Weight, Weight Don't Tell Me Part 2: Eating Humble Pie

This is not really a post that excites me.  Who gets excited about eating humble pie?  Pumpkin pie, why yes, humble pie, no thank you.  You may recall me committing to giving up my scale for 30 days.  I was able to go 21 days, but could not make it the entire 30.  I had a freak out moment last week and begged, yes begged, my husband for the scale back.  When I said I would follow up about my experience, I truly thought I would a) make it to the 30 day mark, and b) gain some wisdom or at least some insights.  I did not accomplish a, but maybe there is hope for b.  We can always learn from our experiences, right?

The first few days of my experiment my morning routine felt very strange.  After all, each morning of my life for over 30 years has begun with stepping on the scales for better or worse.  By the third or fourth day I began to feel a freedom: my mood was no longer subject to the numbers on the scale.   We went on vacation to the coast.  It was definitely liberating to come home from a week of indulgence and not face the music of the scale. With the freedom came fear, though.  I found myself worrying that, if I’m not weighing daily, the weight will creep on

I really did try to listen to my body.  I let my clothes tell me how I was doing.  The first few days after vacation my jeans were tight.  This prompted me to eat cleaner and drink less.  I found myself happier not knowing my weight: ignorance is bliss.  Something shifted last week.  I overindulged over the long Labor Day weekend and started panicking that I was gaining a boat load of weight.  I considered going to the gym to weigh on their scale, but decided to beg the hubs to give me my scale back instead.  He acquiesced: happy wife, happy life, etc. 

I was afraid if I waited 7 more days, the agreed upon finished line, I would gain even more weight.  In psychological terms, this is called a cognitive distortion, believing something that is not true, usually to reinforce negative beliefs or emotions.  Mistaken belief: if I don’t weigh myself every day, I will gain weight.  Thus, my fear of my weight running amok caused me to give up on my challenge a week early.

In fact, when I weighed myself after 3 weeks I was up 2 lbs., but even I don’t consider that running amok, especially when one of those weeks was  vacation. 

I’m disappointed in myself, for sure.  I don’t want to fail at any challenge, particularly a self-imposed one.  It is time for some self-compassion.  Instead of beating myself up and berating myself, I pretend I’m talking to one of my friends who did not meet a challenge or who is unhappy with their weight, although the latter is much harder to pretend since most of my friends are skinny minis.  Just saying.  Anyway, here’s what I would say to a friend: “You tried, and that is what matters.”  “You are adorable just the way you are, darling.” “Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart.” I’m working on saying those words of endearment and encouragement to myself. 

I am not ready to give up the scale entirely.  I still need it to keep me in check.  I need to work on listening to my body.  It is good about telling me it wants to eat clean, if I listen more closely.  This weight/body image thing is complex.  I’ve got a long way to go.  I didn’t get here, this place of obsession over my weight, overnight, and it is unlikely I will move on overnight or in 30 days.  The struggle is very real.    

One last insight, humble pie, unlike pumpkin, has zero calories.  J

Love,

Rebecca