It’s the dirty little secret among women. There is nothing more painful than stepping on that scale. And yet, when you see a lower number than you thought, it’s so pleasurable. The joy of the slow descent of poundage tickles the senses, awakens your fantasies, and makes you contemplate things you never thought you would consider—like wearing a halter dress.
But it’s oh so unpredictable. One week you’ve had 23 salads, no chocolate, and nary a bite of pizza and you’re up .6 pounds. The next week, you’ve chased a steak dinner with pecan pie and whipped cream and you’re down 2. You begin to wish you could attend your weekly weigh-in dressed in nothing more than panties. Or blindfolded, so you can’t see your shame.
What shade of weight-crazy are you? Do you hop from scale to scale to find the “good” one? Do you secretly hang your foot off the side to lighten up? Do you hold on to a desk, a wall, or a chair to defy gravity? I’m sure you remove all your jewelry and dry your hair. And you remove your eyeglasses, and your keys, and your earrings. What else? Of course you empty out in the loo. At least twice. Do you wear your thinnest tank top and the barely there slacks? You’ve managed to pull all the tricks and now what? You are shackled to this weigh-in ritual, week after week after week.
You’re an intelligent, educated, self-respecting human being. So, why are you chained to the number on the scale? Get over it. Focus on what matters. Stop flogging yourself. Unless of course you’re into that.
Note: In case you are not aware, Fifty Shades of Grey is a New York Times #1 bestselling erotic novel by E. L. James. Spoiler Alert: The hottest part of the fantasy in the book is this: the heroine is thin and never hungry, and the guy is constantly making her pancakes and eggs and pushing her to eat, eat, eat. It’s enough to make a gal pant.
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