A few months ago, I put a goal weight into my head for our wedding day. I had been exercising and eating moderately well, but still weighted what I thought was about ten pounds too much. I put a number in my head and fixated on it.
That number has been on my scale for about a week now.
Goals are funny things: so often, we think our lives will be better if we only achieve ______. But then we accomplish them, and by that time, we realize that working towards that goal was the thing that made our lives better, not the end result itself. Marathon runners will tell you that – yes, I’m happy I crossed the finish line, but it’s not the medal or the finish line photo that I value, it’s how I learned how to take control over my life over a period of months, and how I now carry that experience with me in everything I do.
So now the number on the scale is a little lower than it was. Big deal – now I breathe through stress and know I can handle it. I’ll take that over an unrealistic body image any day.