Interesting thing happened today. I had to be weighed before a medical procedure.

I fucked out the scales a long time ago. I had a difficult relationship with them as I suspect most women do. We attach worth to the number it displays – the physical weight of your anatomy has somehow become a definition of who you are – it’s bizarre. Sure, it’s handy to know how much you weigh in terms of drawing down medicine or if you have diabetes or are morbidly obese or severely malnourished but this whole thing of your ‘weight’ having any correlation to who you are as a person? Ridiculous. I know now that it’s a blunt instrument and I use other methods to quantify my overall physical wellbeing on the daily. Other things matter – if I’m tired, if I’m hungry, if I’m hormonal – they all have an impact on how I feel about myself. I like to stay within a certain dress size ‘range’ probly somewhere between a 10 and a 14 depending where I shop. I like to work out regularly get the blood pumping and a good sweat on. I like to eat well most of the time but I like pizza too. Balance has become more important now, not weight.

But it wasn’t always like that. I was a slave to the scale. I had a number I needed to be and if I wasn’t that number it was baaad I was a worthless piece of shit, lazy, undisciplined – a failure. If i couldn’t control the scale how could I control anything in my life? And that self abuse would spark off the need for comfort and that comfort came from food, relaxation and booze. See the cycle there? Yep me too.

I did the whole ‘oh I have x amount of lbs to lose so I won’t be going out till I do’ and I did those AWFUL weight watchers/slimming world plans too – ugh low fat everything – the fucking rice cake and tuna diet 🙄 God when I think if it now, all we did in work was sit around the lunch table talking about how fat we were while milling plates of biscuits. I would stand in judgement of my naked body in the bathroom mirror. Miserable. If I could just get the scales to play ball. My poor body – little did I know of the four beautiful children it would give to me and feed in the future, all I wanted was for it to fit into some magazine inspired ‘bracket’

Then one day I copped on. And fucked out the scale and I must say I’ve never missed it. There’s one scale in my house and it’s for measuring luggage and I LOVE getting that scale out because it signifies holiday time!

So today a doctor asked me my weight – I said ‘I don’t know?’ He looked at me with a raised eyebrow and said ‘roughly?’ And I said ‘I genuinely have no idea’ so he offered the scales – why not I thought with a sudden genuine interest in what secrets it held. I’ve just had my 4th baby, he’s 4 months old, I never stood on a scales in pregnancy, before that I was in the shape of my life I got seriously into weightlifting and I was ripped – never weighed myself then either, before that I had baby number 3 no clue what I weighed then either and before that again I was between baby number two and three and I remember I had piled in the lbs I was bigger than i had ever been – so ALOT of body size fluctuations and variations in those years none of which I had recorded. Couldn’t be arsed. I remember how I felt in all of those moments.

Today I was the number on the scale that I had always aspired to be all those years ago. Bang on.

You could have knocked me down with a feather because you know why? It meant nothing. It was only afterwards, on the way out of the examination room I remembered all those times I had wished and wanted all that self harm I had put myself through for something that meant absolutely nothing. In finding a happy way to live, in indulging in a bit of self love, in the process of getting lost in the busyness of life – a full life, I had landed myself by complete accident right in the spot where in another lifetime I had always imagined to be my ‘peak’.

And it is. I am peaking. Life is good, it’s balanced and its relatively stress free. I place little value on how I look and everything on how I feel. And in my humble opinion that is beauty personified.

So in honour of my past self I celebrated my little achievement on the scales because this would have been a big deal I would have been ‘worthy’. And you know how I celebrated? With a big ass motherfucking packet of chocolate biscuits 😜 #keepingitreal

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