Tales of The Pseudo-Skinny
I have never been a super-skinny girl.
Honestly, for a long time I didn't even pay attention to my weight. It wasn't until I was a junior in high school that I realized I was a bit curvy, and that most girls on the dance team with me were half my size. It didn't hinder my high kicks in the least - I was very athletic and had danced my entire life - but it never occurred to me that, while I wasn't fat or even heavy, I was a bit bigger than most of the other girls.
On the contrary, now I feel like I think about my weight every. single. day.
Actually, I am positive that I do. If a day goes by that I'm out of town so I'm unable to step on a scale, I am convinced that I've gained 8 lbs until I get home and can reassure myself with that number again. Or, you know, cry and scream and throw out the Oreos if the number did actually creep up.
I'm tellin' ya, those Cool Mint Oreos will get you every. single. time.
I know that it's borderline obsessive. I'm well aware of this and countless friends have tried to tell me not to get on the scale every day. I don't care, though. It's just my way, and the way that works for me. I don't have an eating disorder by any means (unless having an over-fondness for pasta counts) - actually I'm pretty sure that I like food too much to ever starve myself. Of course, I also am diagnosed as a hypoglycemic - which means if I don't eat I suffer from low blood sugar and feel faint and cranky - so not eating is not an option for me.
The scale just keeps me in check. It reminds me that I did not gain any weight the previous day. It reassures me, gives me confidence. If I've just returned from a vacation, or worse, a weekend with my fiance', then the scale has probably jumped up 1 or 2 lbs. Mentally I am prepared for this, but seeing it on the scale motivates me to get back to my healthy eating habits and make sure that those 2 pounds doesn't quickly turn into 20.
I'm fairly vain and I'm ok admitting it. I whiten my teeth, obsessively slather my body with lotions and anti-aging creams, like to have the perfect glow, healthy skin, perfect makeup, etc. None of those processes wear me down like dealing with my weight, however. Oh I hate it. I hate dealing with it. I'm a little over 5'7" - pushing 5'8", and I'm just way too tall to be a size 2. That doesn't make me happy. When I shop for clothes, even when I leave with items I love, I still feel depressed that I'm buying the size that I am - even though it's in the single digits. It's terrible.
My biggest wish is that I can teach my daughter how to eat in a healthy way without putting all of the pressures of weight-watching on her too. I try very hard to keep my obsessiveness in check around her - I never turn down the treats and things that she offers me - I show her that it's ok to eat those things, just in moderation.
Even at 28 I'm learning. I've come to a place where I'm comfortable with my body when it's at a weight that I find acceptable - which is not super skinny by any means - it's a weight that some would probably cringe at. 5 or 10 pounds over that weight might cause me to panic a bit - but if I can maintain my "happy" weight I find that I've actually started to feel sexy. I feel good in my clothes, and even in a bathing suit. It only took 27ish years! It doesn't mean I don't have a daily struggle, it just means I've made a little bit of peace with my body. I'm fortunate to have people in my life who remind me that I'm beautiful just the way that I am, and that being curvy is sexy and womanly.
Every day is a struggle for me with my weight. I've made it through today, and the scale tells me that I did ok. So now it's time to reboot and prepare for tomorrow. Because, without fail, tomorrow always comes, and the struggle returns. It's how I manage it that matters.