Dear Scale,


After months and months of neglect I finally decided to pull you out of the cabinet and step on you. Oops, your batteries were dead and I could not use you.  It took a little over a week to get new batteries but I finally did it. I went grocery shopping on Sunday and purchased batteries (along with the staples) for you.

Oh Scale.
So simple and so complicated.

The act of buying batteries for you had me stressing out. Not because I would give you those batteries and you would tell me how much I weighed. Honestly, I know you will show me a higher number than the last time. My angst came from actually purchasing said batteries. I know, you’re thinking why would that caused angst?!? My budget is strapped so tight that if its not on the “lists” and its not absolutely necessary, it doesn’t get bought.
(I don’t see the budget problem being solved anytime soon, but this is a topic for another blog post.)

Oh scale.
How I used to dread stepping on you. How I used to hold you as the keeper of my good feelings. If you had a smaller number than the last time, then I must have been good. Larger number, was I bad?!? Once upon a time I did believe both of those statements.
Today (well, Monday), I opened that back of fully juiced up tiny AAA batteries, inserted them inside you, oh dear scale, and I stepped on. As your display box beamed blue dashes and you warmed up, I realized I didn’t feel dread or apprehension or really anything.
I don’t need your numbers to tell me I’ve gained weight. That’s a job for my jeans. I don’t need your numbers to tell me I’ve been eating too much junk and just too much period. And I don’t need your numbers to tell me I’ve been very lazy non-active.
I’m late to the party.
But I am learning that more than needing to lose weight, I need to simply take better care of myself. And to take care of myself I need to work on my physical and mental health. Part of this means acknowledging my weight and how its effecting my physical and mental health. Guess what, scale, none of this has to do with you.

Oh scale, you are simply a tool.

Like a hammer or a screw. I will use you for the job you were intended to do. The only job for you, scale, is to tell me the number of pounds I currently weigh. If I am being a good girl or not is none of your concern.

So Ms. Scale, you will be seeing more of me as I recommit to getting myself to a healthier place.

Love Always,



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