The scale and I have been having a disagreement lately. I get on it in the morning and it gives me a number I don’t like. I give it a look, eat my way through the day, and then get back on it at night. It still gives me a number I don’t like. Rinse and repeat for the past two months. That number really isn’t budging. It’s frustrating. It’s irritating. It’s disappointing, even.
I’ve been slender for my entire life. Before I had Bug, my metabolism was epic. If I gained a couple pounds and was unhappy about it, all I had to do was cut back on my calories for a few days and I’d settle back into my happy zone. I ate what I wanted for the most part. Didn’t have to exercise all that much to maintain a slim, not-too-squishy build. I had a flat stomach! And guess what? I still complained about my weight. I still looked in the mirror and thought “hmm. Not good enough.”
So maybe the problem isn’t my weight. Maybe my real problem is that I am never satisfied with my body. This body, which has carried me through 31 years of life and given me a crazy-amazing kid and kept me healthy, is still a disappointment to me. And I think it’s okay to feel uncomfortable when your weight creeps up to a higher number than you’re used to, or want. But the fact that I weigh myself, on average, 2 to 3 times a day sets off alarm bells in my head. It puts me in the danger zone. It means that I hear words like “thigh gap” and “ideal build” and think that my body, for everything it’s done for me, isn’t good enough. That my body, when it’s not perfect, makes me somehow less than. It’s not true, but it feels true.
I think about how I, a fairly reasonable adult who has the maturity to understand on some intellectual level that my weight and how I look doesn’t define who I am as a human being, struggle with this problem on a daily basis and I’m a little befuddled. I have thighs that jiggle. I’ve got a booty on me (look out, JLo, I’m coming for you). My stomach is soft and I have to hike up my jeans when I sit down so my little pooch doesn’t flap over my waistband. I’m carrying around 10 extra pounds that I’d love to take a hike. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not a rad person. I totally get that, and yet I don’t. I look in the mirror and think “ugh.”
This is not just my struggle. I love and hate that I’m not alone thinking these things. And I’m using Scoot as my diary today because I think that speaking these fearful thoughts out loud gives them less power. Also, I’m not going to turn down a pep talk or a “me, too” from you wonderful, kind readers.
I am working on living a healthier life. I hope that by default that sort of squashes the argument between me and my scale; I hate when we fight. But I know at the end of the day, the argument is really one-sided. It’s just giving me the facts. I’m the one who’s skewing them. I’m the one who’s making them uglier than they need to be.
Anyone else out there who feels the way I do? Or do you have some advice for me? Let’s talk it out in the comments.
“It’s not true, but it feels true.” God, it really does feel true, doesn’t it? I think the most important message here is that whether you are trying to lose 10 pounds or 200 pounds, weight and body image are something SO many people struggle with. Learning to love your post-baby body is HARD. I have not incredible words of wisdom here. Just know that you’re an amazing person, and if you need help finding your ‘healthy spot’, I’m always here for you <3
Every. Damn. Day.
I’m frustrated that I’m more active than I’ve ever been and it’s like moving a mountain to lose 5 pounds. I’m focusing on small wins. In the last month I lost some inches and pounds, although not as fast as I’d like it to go, I’m focusing on the movement in the right direction. I’m learning how to treat myself without going overboard, and that even if its lame, going to bed early so I’m sleeping is critical.
Right here!
When my friends tell me that I’m not “fat” and that I’m “so tiny” all I can think is “you’ve never seen me naked”…One of my resolutions this year was to stop all of my negative self-talk — and I’m not so great at that but I’m not as bad as I used to be. And I’ve also accepted that other people don’t see me as “less than” because maybe I have some muffin-top going on. Probably cause I’m the only one who notices
And it’s tough to break the scale habit – that’s one I’m not doing so bad with. But I’ve gotten pretty good at guesstimating what my weight is then I’ll step on to confirm.
Yep. Totally. Before my kiddo I weighed 10 lbs more than I do now. But, 3 months ago I weighed 4 lbs less than I do now. No matter the size, the weight just never “feels right,” and I always somehow think that I look the same (aka, not awesome). We women are crazy people. All I can do is focus on the positive when I am getting down….my arms are strong and sculpted (thanks, yoga!), my cardio endurance is pretty good (thanks, running!), I “really am” thin-ish, I have an awesome 4.5 year old kid that THIS BODY created! Eating healthy makes me feel better about all of it in general, even when the scale is being an asshole and not moving down. I try not to sabotage, because I can be good at that, too. We all just need to TRY and support one another and work on learning to love ourselves and our bodies no matter the stage they are in. They can do pretty amazing things.
“So maybe the problem isn’t my weight. Maybe my real problem is that I am never satisfied with my body. This body, which has carried me through 31 years of life and given me a crazy-amazing kid and kept me healthy, is still a disappointment to me.” BOOM. There it is. 🙂 I have had a long and arduous journey with my body and my feelings about it… I am in a really healthy place now, and that comes from my being able to appreciate the things about my body that I DO love and enjoy.
It’s hard. I’ve never had an easy time with my weight, but even at my lowest weight I still considered myself not done, not there yet… I hate that weight/fat/appearance is so much what we judge ourselves on, not our creativity, cleverness, kindness… You look healthy and gorgeous and really should stop weighing yourself! Focus on how you feel and how your clothes fit. 🙂
Jess, you and I spoke for awhile before I ever saw a picture of you; you know how much I loved and adored you, right from the get-go (and still do, naturally). Your beauty came from your words. And we’ve had so many conversations about our bodies and our insecurities and and and…
I see a mom who loves her Bug. I see a wife who loves her husband. I see a puppy mom who loves her puppy. And I know a friend who is so gorgeous, so lovely, and so real to me. I don’t see that number. I don’t see your thighs or booty. I see you. <3
I pretty much am going to just reiterate exactly what everyone else has already so eloquently said, but I really struggle with this stuff too, and I can tell you firsthand that it doesn’t lead to a good place. You’re beautiful at any weight, and you’re more than how you look. <3 <3
Um, yeah… I’m up 13 lbs from my ideal and 10 lbs from last year, when I met my boyfriend. It’s annoying. Every so often I think, “You made me fat.” Now, I know that’s so untrue. So, so, so untrue. (I know this. No, really. I lost 60+ lbs a couple years back.) But every so often I think of the runs I haven’t done and the many, many, many dinners out that we shouldn’t have had because I’ve had groceries in the fridge at home. I’ve gotten lazy, and that’s why I’m struggling.
I’m currently trying to get him to commit to helping me cook meals for the both of us on Sundays, which we then can take to our separate apartments and enjoy at work throughout the week. I say “trying” because he complains about lack of time and graduation in a month, after which he’ll focus and do the gym and the whole cooking thing. I don’t want to wait. How about we do it now and save ourselves the work of working off another month of crap-tastic eating? Ugh. It’s just so frustrating.
Still, though, I can’t wait for when he moves in this summer and we don’t have to worry about finding a restaurant to have dinner at because we’re not in the same city. I can’t wait to cook for more than one person so I don’t have to eat the same thing all week long.
Anyway… I’m way off topic. What I mean to say is that I get you. I so get it. I know I should be proud of how far I’ve come, but I’m just not right now.
Let’s work on it together? <3