Step Away From the Scale
Words by Deidra Manning
Eighteen.
I hate that number.
It rests on the tag in the back of my pants; it follows me everywhere. Truthfully, it leads me; it precedes me, defines me, and sometimes controls me. It laughs and mocks and says cruel things.
I like to say I don’t care, that I’m more than that number, that digits can’t truly assess value, that what really matters can’t be defined with figures, but that’s a lie. To me, numbers do matter—more than they should.
Another number I hate even more? The one on the scale.
That’s why I never weigh myself—I can’t. It’s one of the many things I choose not to do as a result of my long battle with eating disorders. For me, the number on the scale tells more than my weight. In my mind, it is the sum total of my worth. And because I cannot not become obsessed with its judgment, I make the choice to stay away completely.
It seems silly, I know, but the scale used to dictate my life. The number it revealed mattered more to me than anything else. Its red finger pointed only to weakness, not strength; it always revealed my shortcomings, never my virtues. Everything I did or did not do was determined by that flat piece of plastic. It was the sole measure of my progress; it alone held my self-esteem.
I didn’t realize until much later in my recovery process what a restrictive force my scale had become. I allowed its numbers to control me. Every choice I made was based on what it said. Sadly, my whole identity was centered around the findings of its flawed, inaccurate assessment. Scales don’t care about your height or build; they don’t take into account muscle mass or water content. Scales measure all things equally when in fact, not all things are equal. Scales only measure quantity, not quality.
My entire life—every thought, every action, every moment— was structured around a scale that in actuality, was evaluating my weight—my substance, my value, my significance, my worth, my being—incorrectly.
I was a slave to a number calculated in error.
The same thing can happen in other areas of our lives as well. If we aren’t careful, we can become slaves to comparison. We can begin to measure our substance and value and significance and worth against the erroneous calculations of perception—our assumption of someone else’s health or beauty or importance or status. But the scales of comparison are never accurate. The number revealed outside is never a truthful representation of the value inside.
We step onto the flat plastic of appraisal hoping to find a true measure of ourselves. We forget that the scales are unbalanced. We expect it to measure all things equally when not all things are equal. And because scales can only measure quantity, not quality, the results are always skewed. We become slaves to a number calculated in error; we become victims of unbalanced scales.
Comparison is a scale that is never accurate, and its number often leads us to a life of extremes. Don’t be a slave to perceptions and assumptions; don’t be fooled by the imprecise total. Never estimate the worth of your inside based on what someone else presents on the outside.
You are loved. You are valuable. What you do and say matters. What you believe about yourself matters. You are so much more than a number. You are more than the digits in the back of your jeans; you are more than the numerals on the scale. You are more than the number of calories burned or consumed. You are more than your failures and mistakes. You are worth more than you feel. You are worth more than other people say you are. No one else can do what you can, the way you can. You are unique and gifted and special, and there’s no scale that can measure the significance you hold.
Step away from the scale of comparison. Stop trying to measure what can never be weighed. The scale is a liar and a thief, and every moment you spend on it obsessing, evaluating, and hating is a moment of opportunity lost—a moment the world misses out on the wonder that is you.
“Wanting to be someone you are not is a waste of the person you are.”
About the Author:
Deidra is a wife, mother, introvert, empty-nester, feelings-eater, dog-lover, truth-seeker, grace-needer, writer, sister, daughter, friend, and current blogger at themiddleages.me.
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