Yesterday I had to go to the doctor for my ankle.
I had a sprain a long time ago that never healed properly.
I had to get on the dreaded scale.
For most of my adult life I have been anxious about my weight.
There was a period when I was in college, when I was very slim and I never even thought twice about what I was eating and drinking.
I had enough movement and exercise in my life that my weight was not an issue.
I was a non-traditional student in my thirties and I had to park far, far away from my main college, the performing arts center.
After things settled down and I had some issues with car accidents and such, I put some pounds on.
From then it was terrible and I weighed too much, way more than I do now.
About six months ago, after a great amount of effort working on dropping 10 pounds, I decided to give it up.
I realized that although I wish I were tiny like before, unless I quit eating the way I do, I won’t be skinny.
I was plagued with guilt and self-disgust night and day.
Finally, I said to myself, I need a break from this emotional tumult.
So for the past 6 months I stayed away from the scale.
Yesterday I had to get on the scale at the clinic. It had been 6 months of freedom from worry about weight.
I really thought I’d gained too much weight and that I was way heavier than before.
To my surprise, that was not the case.
It seems all those years of anxiety were futile.
The conclusion I came to was this.
You can either get away with being fat and forget about it, or you can get on with losing weight.
Every day is a new choice and a new beginning.
Go ahead and be active and eat healthy, and try your best.
But let go of the guilt and suffering because it’s not worth it.