Weight just a minute now...

So, not too long ago, I decided to break up with my scale.

Nada. No more. Hasta la vista. It's done. We're over. I'm through.

It was causing too many problems. I'd step on it a couple times a day, or at least once every day. I'd freak out over fluctuations in my weight and I'd beat myself up, telling myself things like, "Yep, shouldn't have eaten all that pepperoni pizza. You need more salads!" "Well, if you would have gotten off your lazy butt and gone to the gym this probably wouldn't have happened..." And on and on and on.

Weighing myself constantly had quite the little snowball effect on me because every time I got off that scale, I found it necessary to stop and look in the mirror at critique myself from head to toe.

I'd look in the mirror, see a zit - get up closer in the mirror and notice a wrinkle, and another zit, and holy mackerel when was the last time I got my eyebrows waxed?!?!

I'd get dressed in the morning and analyze my lovely stretch marks and stand sideways to see how far my belly stuck out. I'd notice blemishes, sagging (why, WHY?!?!?), and a little extra chub a dub dub here and there.

I'd try on pants I knew were too small, and I'd get upset that I couldn't fit into them anymore. I'd tell myself I looked frumpy and tired and that I was just letting myself go.

It was exhausting, and it was a real bummer.

But, before I go any further, I must admit that this break-up was not my idea. I was inspired by Summer at Le Musings of Moi. Summer shared her own struggles with weight and body image issues, and stressed the importance of all of us women recognizing that we are beautiful, and we shouldn't let our scales tell us otherwise. She talked about getting rid of her scale because it was torturing her, too.

I thought it sounded like a good idea - I friggin' hated my scale, so why not give it a shot, right?

So, I gave up my scale cold turkey, and I haven't stepped on it since.

I can't even begin to tell you what a difference it has made all around. I mean, shoot! I know that weight fluctuates throughout the day - weighing in each day is ridiculous, and really, it doesn't even matter. I am at a healthy weight, so there was no reason to be obsessing over it. I literally had no reason I needed to be setting foot on that scale. It was almost like I just wanted to torture myself. I don't understand it.

When I ditched the scale and decided to do my very best to look for my beauty instead of my flaws, my confidence in myself changed. A lot.

I got new pants. Pants that fit. I'm not the same lady I was before I had my baby. I have fewer brain cells, a tad less of my sanity intact, and my boobs, butt, hips, thighs and everything else will never be the same again. It's the nature of motherhood.

So, instead of trying to fit into the mold of my pre-baby self (and all the pre-baby clothes that fit that particular mold), I am learning to accept this new body - sags, stretch marks, extra fluff and all. Because I'm fine. I'm fine just the way I am.

I only wear clothes that make me feel good. If it's baggy, or if it's too tight and uncomfortable, I don't wear it.

After ditching the scale, I've found myself wanting to take better care of myself. I have fun fixing up my hair and my makeup, and I can look in the mirror and smile back.

If I go a week without exercising, it's okay because I just do what I can when I can, and I do my best to stay fit. Sometimes my best is once in two weeks, and sometimes my best is three times a week. It just depends.

I let myself enjoy decadent, delicious foods that I love. I just do it in moderation, and I make sure I'm choosing healthy things as well. If I'm choosing, for the most part, to eat healthy and throwing in a few things here and there that are a bit more on the high-calorie side (translation: a bit more on the freakin' delicious side), then that's fine, and there's no reason to beat myself up for enjoying cookies, truffles and Cheetos. There are things I love that I am going to enjoy, and I'm not going to deprive myself of them out of the fear of gaining a little weight.

So scale, to be honest - I don't miss you. I don't miss your stupid numbers, your blinking sign telling me to wait, and your stupid error message when I stepped on you too soon.

I don't miss the never-ending self criticism and low confidence that you encouraged in me.

Scale - you are stupid, you are ugly, and your mother dresses you funny. So there.

(This post is a part of Mama Kat's Thursday Writer's Workshop.)