I don't own a scale, but if I did, I'd throw it out of the window. Jay-Z (or someone of the sort) said, “Men lie, women lie, but numbers do not lie.” I beg to differ. I stepped on the scale and those damn three numbers lied like their lives depended on it. While they may actually tell my weight, they don't tell the back story of everything. Those numbers don't tell me that I'm happy with my weight. They don't say that I'm of “normal” proportions. All they do is tell me how heavy I am.
Numbers aren't shit. I'm not ashamed to admit that, since graduating college, I've gained quite a bit of weight. For the past few months, I've worked to reach my college sophomore weight, 125. In all honesty, though I've gained the weight, my body shape hasn't really changed. I still have the same hips, butt and thighs I've had all my life. The numbers have increased (weight and jean size), but nothing else has really changed.
In my post from last year, you may remember my complaining about my grandmothers constantly reminding me of the extra weight I'm carrying. Though I'm not my “ideal weight,” I'm not exactly tripping, but their complaints have definitely hurt my feelings. “Why aren't you the skinny granddaughter I used to have?” “Look how much bigger your jeans are than mine.” Now that I've gotten a gym membership and spend 3 days out of each week there, they seem to be in better spirits. For the past few weeks, I've been busting my ass to get back to 125 just to make them shut up. Why am I busting my ass in the gym trying to pacify their needs? Yes, I want to get back into shape, but reach their ideal weight for me? That's what I'm not gon' do. **Insert ratchet gum popping here**
Today, while power-walking to Beyonce on the gym treadmill facing the mirror, I had an epiphany. My goal isn't going to be a number; it's going to be my happiness. I'm not currently completely dissatisfied with my body, but I'm not exactly where I want to be. As long as I am perfectly fine with seeing myself naked or in a two-piece bikini, who the fuck cares what my weight is? It can be 125 lbs or 150. As long as I'm healthy and happy, I don't care. Hell, there are self-proclaimed “fat” pin-up models who are beautiful. So.... Fuck numbers, be happy.
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