The Weight of the Scale

Hey friend. Let me walk you through a day in my life before….

My eyes open. First thought:  Am I heavier than yesterday? Did I lose weight? Anxiety floods my body as I anticipate what the scale might say. I mentally recount what I ate yesterday, did I manage to go to bed hungry or deny myself the dessert that I served to my family?

If I did well, I’m acceptable. I can have a good day and be at peace.

Or that scale will say I failed. I’m unacceptable. I should be ashamed. The spiral begins.

I hold my breath, step on the scale and wait for the verdict.

+ 1 lb. from yesterday. Sigh.

I cringe. It feels like I’ve been slapped. I dutifully get dressed for my workout.

I have to make this right. I have to do better. I stand in front of the mirror as I maneuver into my sport’s bra. I stare into my reflection in the mirror., My eyes zero in on my stomach and thighs. 

I turn to the side, then the front, then the other side, grab my love handles, then I visually assess if I look bigger than yesterday. I definitely do. I'm such a disappointment, why can’t I get this right. If I could just get my weight under control I could rest, I could just be, but until then, I have to do everything I can to find peace.

My little boy wakes up and follows me into the kitchen. Absentmindedly, I throw some waffles in the toaster. As I plate it, I mentally plan my workout. I’m not present. I’m preparing for my punishment.

I wish I could eat waffles. I love waffles, they remind me of staying at my grandmother's. Her house smelled of cinnamon syrup in the mornings and I can almost hear the sound of the bluegrass music that accompanied the wafting smell of bacon…

No time for that, I can’t eat until after my workout. My little boy wants to snuggle on the couch but I don’t have time, got to get this workout in.

He stands on my workout mat. Doesn’t he see that he’s in my way? He’s making it hard for me. I tell him momma is working out, to please go away for now. I’ll be with him after I’m done. He moves to the side for a few minutes then comes back and starts playing with his toys on the edge of my mat. My agitation grows. I have to get this workout in, it feels like my life depends on it. Why is he making it so hard for me.

I move him away for the 17th time, and then I finally lose it. I scream at him, “CAYSON, get OUT of here, can’t you see momma is busy!” He begins to cry uncontrollably. I feel guilty, I’m just trying to exercise, is that too much to ask? I’ve got to do this. I’m so hungry.

I spend less time with my son than I would have hoped throughout the day because I have to make meals for my family but I also have to make special calorie controlled meals for myself.

Fast forward to dinner, my husband takes us out to a beautiful restaurant with a playground for the kids to play and everything. How many calories will be in my meal? If I don’t know how many calories are in my meal it will probably be way too many and the scale will go up again tomorrow. All my work will amount to nothing, I’ll never lose the weight, get the abs or the smaller size. I want to go play with my kids and enjoy the moment, but all I can think is, “What can I order? What am I allowed to eat?”

I’m on edge, I’m angry. It’s so hard. It’s so hard micromanaging every morsel of food, scheduling my life around my workouts, I’m so tired. I just. want. rest.

Not to just get 8 hours of sleep, but soul rest, to have peace in my spirit, to just be me, and be okay with that. The weight of trying to achieve this smaller body crushes me. I eventually snap under the pressure, I just can’t do it anymore. . .

That was before.

Now…. Now I wake up and I feel free. My mornings are slow, sometimes I wake up before the kids and I spend some quiet time with the Lord curled up in my favorite chair with my hot coffee and watch the sun come up as I bathe in the precious love of my Savior. He, who made my body and called it good, which for so long I confused with my flesh. The flesh is not the body. The flesh is the sinful nature, the body, my body and yes, your body, are good. God has said it. Today, I have waffles (or any food I want!) with my family and I enjoy it, the wonderful taste of food, and I appreciate that gift. I have the time and mental space to sit on the couch and snuggle with my 3 year old. He still gets in my way while I workout, but I’m not aggravated because there’s no pressure. My life doesn’t depend on getting in a workout, I workout when I want to and I do workouts that feel good to me. There is no pressure. I can eat without guilt, my life doesn’t depend on whether I have a flat stomach or not, it feels amazing. My life now feels like a deep exhale, whereas before, my life was held breath. My burden was heavy. Now, before bed, instead of, “did I eat too much today?” I’m asking myself, “Did I love enough today?” and that difference is everything to me. If any of this resonates with you friend, please consider joining us for the 40 Day Journey, we’d love to see you there, it’s cheap, but it’s priceless.