If there is a scale between myself and a short route to anywhere, I will take the long route. I am an evader, escapee and fleer of all scales. I refuse to be subjected to the numbers on a scale. Why should one have a scale if you have clothes, or friends? If your slacks from a few months ago now fit like skinny jeans, there’s no mystery as to what could have caused this and if I happen to run into an old friend or co-worker and they say I look ‘different’, while looking at me from my neck down, it speaks a thousand words.
At what one point in life, when I was a young adult, I used to constantly weigh myself, and if the numbers tipped too far to the right, my whole day would be ruined. Eating ice cream, dessert and even low-fat snacks became a guilt trip. I would pester my family about whether they thought I was fat and I would even perform the infamous beneath the chin fat- grabbing as a measure of my weight gain. It was a miserable way to be and it was not my fault, I blame the scale. It was always there; in a friend’s bathroom, the gym, and my own bedroom, ready to ruin my day. So I stopped.
It wasn’t an easy effort, it was the type of quitting that happened like how someone would quit smoking; gradual. I would come across a scale, stare at it, then walk away in silent triumph, other times I succumbed to peer pressure if a lot of my friends were weighing themselves in a group setting- it was like the equivalent of social drinking. And there were times my efforts would fail and stepping the first foot onto a scale would send me into a sort of weighing binge.
Despite all of this, I was vigilant; I realized that weighing myself was more about vanity and less about health. I wanted to live my life, to continue travelling to foreign countries and to stuff my face carefree. I wanted to not ever make weight a topic of my conversations. With the exception of a Doctor’s visit, its been two years since I’ve weighed myself and whatever number he quietly writes down, I never ask. I figure if it’s bad he’ll tell me. It’s a freeing feeling knowing the range of the weight I might be in, but not the exact number. I like it that way because too many factors can tip the scale in either direction that I don’t care to be bothered with.
One thing I can say is that this type of ignorance is truly bliss. I say end the weigh- ins and throw out the scales and you’ll love yourself more for it. If we can get enough people in on the anti-scale movement, maybe we can even start a petition to ban scales in public places- it will make us all more carefree for it.