Well, today I’m confessing.   

I’ve been struggling.  

Stepping on the scale after every visit to my bathroom in hopes of some kind of validation of all my hard word work is CRAZZZY , and if I’m being fully transparent…it is EXACTLY what my trainer has asked me NOT to do.  
But I’ve done it anyway, trying to surprise myself with a surprise moment of victory.  
The scale is an insidious object.   I’ve been a mad woman, obsessing and feeling sorry for myself because of it.    A dangerous mental attitude for me to allow when that is the very thing that spiraled me into depression and caused this whole mess in the first place.  It creates the perfect climate and conditions for setting myself up for a binge eating episode.  The kind of binge where my eyes turn black like a shark, and all clarity is thrown from the windows.  Vast amounts of calories are consumed in a shameful and violent fury, like wild animals captured on tv pouncing on prey. 
 Self pity can seduce me into a wide range of poor decisions.  
No.  I cannot allow one more day of obsessing over what the scale says, being disappointed and feeling sorry for myself.   
I’ve been teetering between the same 10 pounds, up and down, and never breaking past my loss of 48.  
Wanting SO BADLY to cross over that threshold to share this list that I’ve been compiling on the notepad of my phone for weeks.  A list of all the ways my life has changed.  Instead of celebrating these things, I’ve been BUMMING OUT.  
Doubting myself. 
So this morning I ask myself,”Why do I have to wait for an “official”  -50 pounds to share how much my life has changed in the past 6 months?” 
Why am I letting the scale have this much power over me?  Why am I NOT listening to my trainer who obviously knows what she is talking about? (LOL 😝) 
Is that number on the scale representing all of the days I’ve honored my commitment to myself and shown up at the gym?  Does that number represent all the good choices I’ve made with my eating? All the days I’ve spent meal prepping and faithfully logging macros on MFP?  Does the number on the scale define my worth as a wife, mother, or woman? Can it capture my value as a human being created by a loving God and display THAT on its screen? 
That number doesn’t represent anything other than how much my body, filled with muscles, fat, water and waste weighs.  It doesn’t measure my hustle or heart.  
So, in honor of myself and the hard work that I deserve to celebrate…here is my list of the top 16 ways my life has changed for the better in the past 6 months:  
*I am on top of all the busy work in my house.  Cleaning, laundry, meals…my energy seems to be soaring and I’m able to once again take care of business around here without feeling overwhelmed. 
*Touched my toes for the first time since probably high school? So cool.  
*I can wrap a towel all the way around me.  A large beach towel…but it goes all the way around now.  
*I can use any bathroom stall…not have to wait for the large, handicapped one. 
*I can shave my legs without fear of a near death experience every time.  
*I’m not desperate for the closest parking spot when I go grocery shopping.  Everyday activities and demands have gotten so much easier.  
*I can paint my toenails again. 
*Sit closer to steering wheel! 
*I can wear jeans again.  Albeit the largest pair in my closet, but for the past two years those didn’t fit me at all.  Now they do. 
*I can play with (WANT TO) play with my kids and dog in the afternoons.
*I am able to straiten my hair and/or wear makeup if I chose to because I am no longer sweating profusely just from having a heart beat.  I used to sweat just from the act of using a straitener…the heat mixed with my size turned into a humid frizzy mess. Avoided almost exclusively. 
*I am able to run up my stairs to grab something without fear of cardiac arrest. 
*Married life activities have stepped up a notch.  Yeah, I said it.  It’s always been spicy…😉 but it’s like a whole new, uncharted world over here!  (Sorry Dad!) 
*I was able to sit at a booth with my family at a restaurant.  A BOOTH.  I squeezed into a booth.  If you have ever been fat, you know the terror of being seated in a booth.  
*I’m sleeping better. 
Dear GOD IN HEAVEN, I’m sleeping so much better!
*And the best one, I am doing things in the gym that I NEVER would have believed I’d ever be able to do.  My strength and endurance is gaining daily and I am so proud of myself.  I’ve put in hard work and if it isn’t showing itself on the scale, it certainly shows itself during my workouts.  
There you have it.  
My life has been transformed in the past 6-7 months and I almost missed out on the celebration because of the dumb scale.  
My hubs has been threatening to hide it from me and today I think I might actually let him!