Hi Gorgeous,

I want to tell you about my favorite break-up story that actually has a happy ending.  And it all started with a client asking about the scale.

“Don’t you want to weigh me?” asked a client of mine this week.
Ummm…no. Not at all.

We all know what we look like naked at every weight we’ve ever been. (If you’ve ever been a scale junkie, you know exactly what I’m talking about, here.) You know what clothes fit you at 120lbs, 140lbs, 160lbs. You don’t need a scale to tell you that. You know exactly how bloated you look at 130lbs, and how a 5-7lb weight gain can puff out your saddlebags so your pants stop hanging the way they used to. You know that you feel sluggish and have less energy and hate squeezing the fat rolls that spill over your pants.

So imagine torturing yourself further by hopping on the scale and confirming your biggest fears of seeing your weight at that high number you thought you were at, or worse–seeing your weight way above that number.

Unless you’re someone who is able to be super objective about the numbers on the scale, weighing yourself is an exercise in torture, shame, and self-punishment. It is the polar opposite of self-love.

And at the end of the day, what do the numbers really mean? I have entire notebooks filled with hundreds of conversations I’ve had with women about how they felt about being overweight. And almost every single one of those women equated the higher numbers with feeling unworthy, unattractive, unhappy, depressed, feeling like they were watching their life pass them by, and felt frustrated, angry, and unempowered. Not only that but being overweight was all they spent their time thinking about.

These stories were familiar to me because I used to be that girl in my twenties. The one who weighed herself every day and decided what kind of day I would have based on what the numbers told me that day on the scale. If the number was 124lbs, I could eat more that day and go out drinking. If the number was 128lbs, it was an hour at the gym 5 days that week and cutting out all fat from my diet. I felt depressed that I couldn’t do a better job keeping my weight down and felt unworthy of eating enough calories because I hadn’t worked hard enough to deserve it.

And I spent every day thinking about it, all day long.

And although my weight hasn’t been that low since before childbirth, I stopped beating myself up about it many years ago. I let go of the numbers on the scale so I could be in the space of helping other women let go of theirs, too. It wasn’t easy to break the habit, but I knew it was no longer serving me and was taking up way too much emotional energy. And I wanted to be in a place of higher vibrations and happiness. So I put down that big bag of bricks and picked up my life.
It’s amazing what happened when I broke up with the scale. My mood lifted, I became kinder, gentler, and more patient with my body. My self-talk changed from harsh and critical words to a loving and supportive voice. And I finally exhaled in a state of peace, ownership, and joy.
No number will ever dictate the type of mother, wife, friend, daughter, or nutritionist that I am. No number will ever decide my worthiness. No scale will ever fracture my focus on being wickedly present in my own life. It never should have in the first place. And it never will again.
I hope the same holds true for you, dear one–and I welcome you to share your story with me anytime.

Live Gorgeously,
Esther