Today was the day… the dreaded day of weigh in. I don’t remember the last time I’d stepped on the scale (ok that one time at the doctor’s office about six weeks or so ago and we all KNOW those “weigh heavy”).
I have been dreading this day for ages. I bought batteries the first week of January. I put the batteries in yesterday…. and I wasn’t even remotely tempted to step on the scale and see how much damage I’ve done in the past year.
And then this morning I really tried hard to forget about it. I’d showered, gotten half dressed, and was putting product in my hair when I realized I hadn’t weighed in. I nearly decided to put it off another day… until I realized I was making excuses…. LAME excuses. They were gems such as: Well maybe I want to weigh myself naked, and I already have pants on. Maybe I should wait until my period is over. And my personal favorite What if my tampon adds weight? Say what?
So I stepped on the scale and while I have only gained 8 lbs over my all time low of 170, I still cringe a bit at the number 178.
I’ve slid backwards and no matter what way I slice it, it is my fault. I can blame the accident and I can blame the way my body still hurts when I try to run, and I can blame any other thing out there but the truth of the matter is this is my fault. I let this happen.
And that is ok. I will survive and I will recover.
The best thing about today? Weighing myself has given me back my old mentality. I am once again someone who exercises. I am once again someone who has goals. I am once again holding myself accountable. And you know, the last time I did all those things… that was the last time I loved my body. See, it doesn’t matter that I still have a fat roll. It doesn’t matter that my nose is too big or that my thighs have dimples. What matters is that this is the body I’ve worked for. It is not the body that has “happened to me” which is how I felt all through high school, college and my 20s.
It’ll be nice to have that pride back.