This has been a challenging week for me. Aside from being unnaturally jet-lagged and exhausted, I was struggling to get back into a groove after a week off and I made the decision to go to the doctor for an annual checkup. More specifically, I decided to go to the GYN and I dreaded every day up until the appointment and, of course, the day of.
To be completely honest with you, I’ve never enjoyed going to any doctor. No matter how comfortable or content I am feeling or at peace I am with my mind, body and spirit, I feel a strong discomfort and anxiety right before an appointment. I can’t remember a time when I enjoyed going to a doctor, but who truly enjoys the doctor? I mean, really?!
This time was no different. As I sat in the office waiting for my appointment, my mind started to swarm with ideas and possible scenarios. I was uneasy and my leg started to twitch as I waited for them to call my name. Usually, I count the seconds until they call me to weigh me. Oh the agony. It’s dreadful. This time was no different. I waited. And waited. Then took it upon myself to weigh myself (which I have done the last 3 years because, I’m the boss and I don’t need their judgmental eyes looking and asking me questions).
As I have developed a more loving approach to my body, I rarely weigh myself. I go off of how I feel, how my clothes fit, how energized I am because let’s face it, a f*cking number doesn’t determine my wellness. Let’s get that straight! But…the moment I step foot into the office, no matter how great I am doing, no matter how active I am, my heart feels like it’s going to explode up to the moment I see the number on that damn scale.
The last 2 appointments I was excited because I went vegan, I started to do my body some good by really, mindfully eating AND the kicker here was I had lost 17 pounds and I had kept it off! And that was such a fabulous accomplishment. But for a few years prior, I had weighed 137 pounds (almost pushing 140 at 5’1” and 21/22 years old) and when I decided that I was worth it, I lost the weight. My favorite part (not really-eye roll) had to be the comments from my GYN, “you were 116 pounds when you first came here in 2007 (I was 17 btw) and now you’re 137 (I was 21 btw), what’s going on? You have to lose weight.” I was absolutely horrified and heartbroken.
I’m sure you’ve been there. It’s happened to all of us when we fear that number on the scale, as well as the looks and the comments that follow. Talk about a total nightmare.
So here I was at the appointment, just waiting. I got up and snuck over to the scale before the nurse could even think to ask to do it for me. No freaking way I was going to let her judge me and give me that horrifying look when she sees a number she wasn’t expecting.
I stepped onto the scale. I took a deep breath and started to panic. I gained 10 pounds. My entire body filled with rage and disappointment. Then the inner chatter began.
How could I have let myself go? Where did I go wrong? Was I fat? Was it all just muscle and I am making a big deal for nothing? Was I bloated? Should I have subtracted for my clothes and it being in the middle of the day?
I could feel the tears coming. I felt that tickle in my throat. I wanted to explode. Amidst all of these emotions, the nurse asks me, “so…how much do you weigh?” I lied (subtracting 2 pounds from the actual weight, as if that was supposed to make me feel better) and mumbled, “128.”
And then my GYN proceeded to ask me my favorite question, “wow so you gained weight, how did that happen?” He followed this question with some other news (I will share this in another post) that added to my intense emotions. I felt like a wreck.
I took a deep breath and decided to brush it off because I had TWO choices. I could be upset, depressed and cry. OR I could tell the damn scale to go f*ck itself and spend more time loving myself, treating myself to more self-care and understanding. And I decided to tell the damn scale…please go f*ck yourself. You’re not in control of me.
I can’t say that I am happy about gaining 10 pounds, but it really provided me with profound wisdom and perspective. I know that right now, I could be doing more in terms of movement outside of my yoga practice and that I need to purge from my vacation. But ultimately my body knows what the right weight is. My body is brilliant, wise, beautiful and strong. I don’t need a scale to tell me how to feel. I don’t need a doctor to tell me what I already know. I am happy, healthy, blissful and free.
Thank you for allowing me to share my experience with you my darlings.
Peace, love and no beef