Edited by Avleen Grewal
For many of us, stepping on a scale is intensely scary. The pause of the scale calculating before the number appears is fraught with a heavy anticipation, and can feel like forever. That little black number can have so much power, and can cause so much shame. I’ve always had a complicated relationship with my body, and in the past, my weight was a big source of my body image issues. In the last few years, though I’ve grown healthier and more comfortable with my body as it is, I’ve avoided stepping on a scale. I didn’t like the feeling of disappointment that I constantly experienced, and was tired of letting that number dictate how I felt about myself. I now have a better understanding of health, and know that my weight does not always reflect my mental well-being, the exercise I’m doing, or even the foods I feed my body. But that became evident recently when I stepped on a scale.
The number staring back at me was the lowest I’ve seen it in years. I was so surprised, I honestly didn’t believe the scale was accurate, and was certain it was broken. I had wished for that number throughout much of my adolescence, never coming anywhere close, always left feeling dejected and insufficient. And yet, in that moment, I wasn’t filled with pride—I was confused. Because these last couple of months, I have really neglected my health.
This past semester has been very challenging for me—I’m involved in more extracurricular activities, and my course load has been pretty heavy. I’ve also been experiencing more existential angst as graduation draws closer, which certainly isn’t helping my stress levels. I’m upset that I neglected my health these last few months because I know that my healthy habits would probably have alleviated some of my stress and increased my productivity. But this semester, I renewed my appreciation of the Lean Cuisine frozen dinner, and strayed from the produce aisle into the cookie section. These last few weeks, I really had a difficult time remembering when I had last eaten a vegetable. And as opposed to my five-day a week gym routine from last year, I was lucky if I made it once a week. So that number on the scale didn’t seem to make much sense. But after thinking more about my reaction, I understand where much of my confusion stems from.
For so long, I had equated health with a smaller number on the scale, and a smaller number on the scale, with happiness. When I was constantly coming up short, failing to meet my “dream weight,” I was also working out regularly, and eating a balanced diet. There are many other factors involved in weight, including genetics and metabolism, but back then, I wasn’t thinking about that. Reading that number on the scale the other day stunned me because it finally hit me that my weight is not an accurate reflection of health. What’s more important for me is maintaining my gym habits and cooking balanced meals. I constantly strived for a number that sounded better than the one I had, not realizing that I was already building the foundations for a healthy lifestyle that works for me. And I don’t think I’m alone in this. Many people go to great lengths to reduce that number on the scale, without acknowledging the consequences of doing so. Starvation and magic weight loss pills may reduce the number, but they definitely are not healthy. Sure, I may be lighter, but I also know that is due in part to the fact that I likely have less muscle now than I did previously.
I was so resistant to stepping on the scale, but I’m really glad I did. It reminded me of why I’m now prioritizing health over my weight, and proved to myself just how meaningless that number can be. Of course, weight can be an excellent measure of many things, but it isn’t always an accurate reflection of what’s going on inside. I would take health and strength over a lighter weight any day, and now that I’ve had this little wakeup call, I fully intend to.