Scales Don't Lie

I could barely wait to get home and get on the scale. After a week of eating fried everything, I was certain I'd gained back every pound I'd lost.

I had lost 40 lbs in about 8 weeks. Very unhealthy way, so I knew I'd gain some back rapidly.

Before we left, I had gain 5 lbs back. My appetite had stabilized and I wasn't puking all the time.

So tonight I got on the scale. Total, it looked like I'd gained back an additional 5 lbs on our trip. However, I weighed at the end of the day and fully clothed...not my usual time. So I'm guessing it's not that bad.

Irregardless, I should feel good about 30-35 lbs lost since the first of September. I'm bloated up because of all the inadvertent times of eating dairy, so I'm feeling super fat and my newer clothes feel tight.

I shouldn't feel bad, but I do. That's what a day with my husband's family will do to me.

Remember, I very much see myself the way my dad has always described me. Fat! Not very often do I let my size bother me, although I've been eating healthier for a while. Eating healthier was what helped me lose 10 lbs before we moved.

But his family. Ugh!

Let me start by not pointing a finger but simply pointing out a few things. His youngest brother, dad and sister easily weigh 200 lbs each. His dad made a big deal of his mom gaining weight and being at 220 lbs now. His sister in law is short and still has "baby weight" 4 years later. She also has a "giant ass," her words not mine. His niece and her husband are over 250 lbs and she wears the exact same size shirts I do. So, I am by no means tipping the scales all by myself here.

Yet they treat both of us like we are giants. They purposely create narrow walk ways and only scoot aside for each other. They make comments like "you obviously eat well in Ohio." And "did you guys outgrow your car?"

How stinking rude? Especially coming from some fatties.

I'm so used to being teased about my size, that it takes a lot to get to me. When it's family, it doesn't take much at all.

I'd hoped this year would be different. I was there 35 lbs lighter than the last time they saw me. I certainly wouldn't expect a compliment, but I thought I'd escape the taunting. Not so much.

If I'm really honest, I hate how I look. I want better for myself. I want healthy. If I dare to dream, I want to run.

I used to walk down our road until I got sick. I finally feel like I'm well enough to do that again. Of course it's freezing cold now and I'm fearful of the freaky guys who followed me last time.

My husband has started working out with the fitness ministry at church. I'm so proud of him. He's an emotional eater, so he's gained weight this year. I know if he can stick it out, his aches and pains will lessen. I'm proud of him cause I could never do that. Years of being mad fun of in gym class and every single time I've been to a gym, make it impossible to get the nerve to work out in front of anyone.

There is deep desire in me to lose weight for health. Then there's a very real, shallow part of me that wants to lose weight so I can rub it in their fat faces. Then there's just the reality that losing weight will increase my chances of having a child. So there is some motivation, but a lack of follow through.

Damn it! I want people to stop seeing a fat girl and see me for who I am. I'm more than the fat on my body. Why do we have to all wear a label of fat or skinny?

I wish there was a scale that instead a number would tell me to keep going. Don't lie, just don't give me the agonizing bad news that makes me wear the label.