One of our first experiences is to be placed on the scale, sometimes before we are even held by loving arms. Measured, weighed and compared statistically to our peers, for the sake of science right? I’m presuming this is why we do this. Most of us continue to step onto the scale at least once a year for the rest of our lives during that brief 15-minute checkup where you’re inevitably told to go on a diet or start working out when in reality you have done both for the better part of two decades.
From a very early age many girls learn to dread the scale, myself included. I now dread it because it feels like a completely arbitrary way to measure my health all while causing a level of shame akin to the kind I felt when I barfed on my crush’s backpack in third grade. I know grown women who compete in bikini competitions who will hate the scale even when their bodies look the way most of us would die for. Some people do die because of the scale, eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of mental illness* and if you think a number on a scale didn’t have anything to do with most people’s illness at one point or another you’re in denial.
It’s crazy this inanimate object holds such power over our emotions and the consequent actions we take because of the number it says. It is as easy to become obsessive with the scale as it is to ignore it- both instances create loud inner voices that taunt you. “Come on, just take a peak, it won’t hurt…” or “Stop ignoring me, I’m good for you (says 1950s doctors who believe in lobotomies).” I go through phases where I will weigh myself daily, multiple times a day, even going to the bathroom first to jiggle out all the extra pee so I don’t get any water weight before I step on the dreaded scale. Sometimes I take laxatives to ensure the number goes down. Then there are times I will go months without stepping on the scale, like currently it is hidden away under my dresser. Sadly it will be pulled out soon because my annual check-up is this Friday and I know my doctor will surely comment on my weight because when do they not and I will begin to obsess.
In the past when I’ve tried to lose weight, it’s been helpful to see the number drop, AT FIRST, but it soon becomes depressing when the loss slows to 0.5 lb. increments which is the healthy way to lose weight. I’ve found in more recent years that when I don’t weigh myself as I am trying to lose I tend to be more successful because I focus on my clothing, how my face looks and how my body feels. Weight is so weird- we don’t think of our bones or organs or blood when we step on the scale only of the fat we wish wasn’t there. The BMI measurement is probably the worst aspect of weight measurement; many athletes have overweight or obese BMI levels due to muscle mass while still being some of the healthiest individuals on the planet.
I wonder what life was like before scales became a part of the everyday, before you knew off the top of your head how many pounds or stones you were or should be. The scale rules some people’s worlds- it’s all they think about with every item they eat or drink and often times diet is just a fraction of what effects your weight. People discount the importance of sleep, consistency in exercise, specifically strength training (not cardio!) as well as mass water intake when it comes to losing weight. Did you know you’re supposed to drink half your weight in ounces to help flush you out? In other words a 300 lb. individual would need to be drinking 150 ounces consistently! Is that even healthy or for that matter possible? Many people I know have day to day fluctuations seeing a gain of 2-3 lbs. followed by a loss of 4 and then a gain of 5. So many factors contribute to that number which almost inevitably makes us feel like shit 90% of the time.
You are so much more than the number on a scale. And it’s probably not even the correct number you’re using to put yourself down. Stepping on it does not make your worth any less than it was the moment before. I get it, I feel that shame, which is why there are currently dust-bunnies around my scale. But on Friday I’m going to have to jokingly tell the nurse I can’t look at the number and she will laugh as I squeeze my eyes shut and say “I feel you girl”, because you know what, she does! We all feel this shame.
Can we just say fuck the scale already and release ourselves from this oppressive thought process of identifying with that arbitrary number? I was number 69 in my class at highschool, do you think I go around telling people that (other than for the crude jokes I can make) ? Do you go around talking about your credit score or bank account or GPA? Not unless you’re tool. Those things don’t define my worth, nor do they define yours.
*Cited from ANAD.ORG (National Associate of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders)
too fat to be italian 