I Hate My Scale

I hate my scale.

How many women have made that simple statement over and over?  Either out loud to the actual scale on inside their heads?  I’d say plenty.

But yet we still keep dutifully getting on it weekly (sometimes daily) and get frustrated by the number displayed.  How is it that that number can change so dramatically from day to day?  Is it possible to gain 3 pounds in one day?!?! 

How can a simple number make or break your day?

I spent years ignoring the scale.   I went through my 20’s and 30’s and started my 40’s ignoring the scale in our bathroom.  I rarely, if ever, weighed myself paying more attention to how my clothes fit or how I thought they looked on me.  I exercised religiously and did quite a lot of training for triathlons.  I ran, swam, cycled, and kickboxed my way through.   I exercised for hours and hours a week.  And I’ve always been careful about what I eat.  Don’t get me wrong, I have a major sweet tooth, but I’m good at moderation.  I’m ok with eating a few squares of chocolate or 1 cookie (more like 2).

But then I hit 40.  I gave up running because my hip started to hurt, and my heart rate was elevating.  I still exercised 5 days a week, but I definitely toned it down.  I added weights like you are supposed to in order to prevent osteoporosis and I tried to watch what I ate more.  But I started to feel the pressure to get on the scale and this made me so unhappy, so I resisted.

Then mid-40’s hit.  It is such a wonderful age for many, many reasons, but there is one glaring negative….perimenopause.  I don’t remember many people talking about it when I was younger.  I heard about menopause, but not the lead up to it.  I was horrified to hear from my doctor that it could last 10 years!  Seriously?  10 years!  And that one of the most common side effects is weight gain (outside of hot flashes of course, which are also a joy).  My doctor told me to do my best to hold my weight steady, but not to try to lose weight during this time if I was finding it frustrating.  Apparently, our hormones conspire against us (again!) and make this even harder.

The dreaded scale

Now enters the dreaded scale because now my clothes were tight.  I could tell I was gaining weight and for the first time in my life, exercise wasn’t controlling it.  And I was finding that I was unhappy about it.  So much of our self-esteem is tied up in how we look.  I always knew this of course, but gaining a little weight really brought it home for me.

I know plenty of people who have been fighting this feeling their entire lives.  The feeling that if they could just lose a few pounds things would fit better and they would be happier.  I made the promise to myself that I would never buy new clothes because the old ones didn’t fit anymore.  So now I find myself just moving tight clothes to the side promising myself that they will fit again. Or passing them over when I pick something to wear.  That’s depressing too.

I do know abstractly that I will not necessarily be happier if I lose those few pounds.  My husband tells me I’m gorgeous.  My friends tell me I look great and don’t need to lose weight.  But yet, my suit pants are tight and I had trouble zipping up a skirt for court.  How does one reconcile this?

I’ve discovered that despite the fact that I am very disciplined I am a lousy dieter.  I follow low carb or intermittent fasting for a few days, even two months at one time, and then say to myself, “self, you only have one life, go ahead and eat that”.  I don’t want to deprive myself; I’m aiming for moderation in everything.  I don’t want to have to say no to the cupcake every time.  In my mind, that’s not living. 

Moderation is going to have to be the key.

It’s hard learning how to do this at a challenging stage of life with a whole new set of hormones (that’s a whole different blog!).

In the meantime, I’m trying to only weigh myself once a week.  But I’m failing.  Again, how can you gain 3 pounds in one day?!?  I know you’re not supposed to weigh yourself every day or even every other, but I still keep doing it.  Isn’t that the very definition of insanity?  I guess that’s what body image and attempted weight control do to you.

I keep thinking when I see the number go down, I’ll feel like I’m succeeding.  But it really just feels like my body and the scale are conspiring against me.  As are the chocolate chip cookies my son wanted to make with me.  My new mantra needs to be “moderation in everything”.  I’m working on not letting this become an obsession.

So, to all the rest of you out there that hate the scale as much as I do, stay strong, and remember that you are beautiful just the way you are, no matter what that scale says in the morning.