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.