Fretting the numbers: weight loss and its psychological effects

Today we have something a little more heavy than the usual lipsticks, nail polish and outfits.

Do you ever do it? Stand on the scale in the morning and look, nervously, at the number that appears on the display? I do it, sometimes. I used to do it every single day.

Let’s start at the beginning. I’ve never really felt like a confident person, especially when it comes to weight. Growing up I was a really small girl and extremely skinny. Everyone used to say that you could fit me through the mailbox. But that all changed when my body met puberty. I got curves, specifically my hip/butt area. I’ve got a good butt for a white girl, just saying. I thought I could just keep eating like I did when I was younger, that my metabolism still worked at 80 miles per hour and I could eat absolutely everything that tasted good. It’s safe to say that I gained weight. I was never ‘fat’ but I certainly got to a chubby state of being.

As a teenager I dealt with pretty intense confidence issues, I felt really unhappy with myself and my body. And I’m not blaming anyone, but the comments my classmates sometimes made certainly didn’t help. I constantly compared myself to the pretty popular girls who seemed to have everything.

Over the years I changed, I got more accepting towards my body and its curves. I realized that it isn’t just the way you look that makes people like you, or not. But I still wasn’t completely at ease with myself, and I didn’t feel like I could be me for 100%.

At the end of my senior year of high school I met a guy, he wasn’t my first boyfriend, but he was the first guy that I ever felt I really loved intensely. That may seem a little weird, considering we only dated for a month or so. But when that relationship ended rather abruptly I kind of got thrown in a spin.

And even though it definitely wasn’t his fault, the emotional aftermath of the break up made me doubt myself even more. I was really unhappy with myself and I decided that I needed a change. Instead of obsessing about my looks and thinking that my legs were too substantial, or my waist wasn’t small enough and actually do something about it.

Over the summer I lost around 15 to 20 pounds, and for the first time in my teenage life, I felt confident. My attitude changed, especially towards clothes. I started to wear much more color, I started to wear skirts and things that showed off my legs and body a little more. I just felt better about myself.

But the weight loss also had a side effect.

I started fretting the numbers. Every morning I woke up I’d walk up to my scale and stand on it. And whenever the number was higher than the day before I would feel this total complete disappointment crushing me. My entire day would be ruined. Even if it was just 100 grams.

Over time I realized that this was not the way to live. What was the point of losing the weight and feeling so much better when I wasn’t able to enjoy it? I still stand on the scale, and I am definitely not happy when the number goes up. But I can only stand on it once a week, and I can eat a piece of chocolate whenever the hell I want.

I feel much better about myself, and people are noticing it too. I’ve heard from multiple parties in my life that they think I look really healthy, much better than before. Also, I’m in a good happy relationship. With the same guy I mentioned earlier in this post. We realized that we really did want to be together, so we decided to try again.

I guess what I am trying to say with this post is that you should stop fretting the numbers. If age is nothing but a number, shouldn’t the same go up for weight? You’re as happy as you feel you are, not as happy as the scale says.