For most of my life, I’ve avoided the scale. I did not want to know. It was easier to be blissfully ignorant of that number.
I most certainly did not want anyone else to know my weight. I’ve always felt like the number I see on the scale is higher than what you would expect just by looking at me. But this is probably just a remnant of the distorted idea I had when I was younger that unless you were 125 pounds, you were fat. 200 pounds sounded simply massive. It wasn’t until later that I realized tall women could be thin at 170 pounds. Not model thin, but healthy thin.
I thought I was enormous in high school. I was not. I was a little chubbier than my friends, but not enormous by any means. By senior year I wore a size 16. But I felt fat and unattractive long before that. When I see photos, I realize I was nowhere near as big as I thought I was.
Of course, I did get really big later.
I did not want to know that number. The first time I found it out during this most recent bout of obesity was at the doctor’s office. Hadn’t been in several years, but I went and he told me my weight: 270 pounds. I can’t say I was surprised, but I’d just avoided ever thinking about it. It took me another year and more weight before I did anything about it.
I did not want my boyfriend to know the number. Or my dad, my brother, my friends, or anyone really! I didn’t even want the doctor to know it. I thought if no one knew the number, no one would know how fat I really was.
How silly that is in hindsight. When I finally made the choice to lose weight, I joined a gym and I weighed myself. 287 pounds. Again, not really surprised and a little relieved that I hadn’t made it to 300. And I NEVER will.
I made a decision not to be ashamed of this, so I told everybody. I told my boyfriend first and when he didn’t seem surprised, something clicked for me. Everybody already knew I was fat. They knew I was VERY fat. There’s no hiding it. They aren’t blind. And my boyfriend, knowing I was really fat, loved me anyway. He loved be really big and he’s been so supportive of my weight loss. But he never pushed me to do it. I’m more than just a fat girl to him.
I am not ashamed of the number anymore. I’m not ashamed to tell people what I used to weigh or how much I weigh now.
I will proudly proclaim: I am a 5’8″ tall 32 year old woman who used to weigh 2-8-7 pounds and who now weighs 2-1-5. I am immensely proud of this.
Rather than obsessing over the weight I still want to lose, I am proud of the weight I have lost already. I’ve waited long enough to accept myself and be happy, I’m not waiting any longer. I accept myself at 215 pounds and I will accept myself at 180. After all, I am so much more than just a number on a scale.
There is no shame in the number anymore. I am free!