After careful evaluation of my 2015, I decided that two things were the bane of my existence : my scale, which I step on twice a day to know my weight, and Pinterest.
I love Pinterest. I'm not going to stop scrolling through images of gluten-free dinners under five dollars or best shades of red lipstick for my skin tone. That will continue in 2016. What I'm giving up is the impossible reconstructions of DIY Christmas crafts, 3D children's birthday cakes, and homemade ice cream without a machine. Or things of that nature. I'm giving up trying to recreate things that are way beyond my abilities. I just don't have the sewing skills to turn my old sweaters into skirts and legwarmers. I don't have the patience or desire to learn such skills. And in 2015, I tried and failed a massive amount of Pinterest ideas. And it kinda sucked. And it kinda chipped away at my self-esteem when I couldn't make the Easy 5 Ingredient Recipe of whatever someone else mastered in three minutes and took a beautiful photo that had my mouth watering. So, I'm going to accept defeat and realize that my God given talents are not the same as everyone else. And that's a good thing, because while some people have mastered ten different ways to re-purpose a mason jar, I have my own set of skills. I don't need to feel bad that I can't do what others do with ease.
The other thing I'm giving up is a bit more significant to my overall sanity. I've weighed myself at least twice a day for as long as I can remember. When I lived at home, I used my mom's scale and when I left for college, one of the first things I bought with my own money was a scale. When one scale dies, I quickly replace it with another.
I hate weighing myself. I hate that stupid three digit number that appears in that little rectangular window. I have a whole closet worth of clothes that I've divided, not by size, but by weight. I know what phase of my life I was in when I wore my pink long sleeve sweater, because I know I weighed 150 lbs, and that was after I lost a bunch of baby weight seven months after the birth of my son. I know I bought my green sundress when I weighed 130 lbs, which was my senior year of college. I didn't have the guts to wear that dress back then, because I was in a tshirt and jean phase, and the dress is rather feminine. I left the tag on it, thinking I could always return it. Today, it still hangs in my closet, with the tag, because I never got the guts to wear it before gaining enough weight to no longer fit in it. I keep it, in hopes to one day wear it again. And every piece of clothing I own has a similar story attached to a weight number.
Every morning, that stupid scale that I hate so much determines my mood. Three pounds up, means I'm angry. If I'm the same as the day before, I'm frustrated. One pound lost means I'm in a positive mood that will likely only last until lunch time when I have a cookie for dessert. Then I weigh myself again before bed knowing that I will weigh exactly 2.5 pounds less in the morning. Based on my night number, I either go to bed depressed, annoyed, or ready to tackle the next day with a smile.
So I'm giving up my scale. Because I hate it. And I think it kinda hates me.
This doesn't mean I'm giving up on my battle with food, or to get healthy. It just means I can't spend one more year of my life defined by a stinkin' number. I won't do it anymore.
All of us are more than a number. We're more than three digits aligned on a small rectangular screen that glares up at us.
I can be plus sized and happy. I can live in the moment, enjoying my curves while I continue to exercise and explore a healthy diet. And I can make more of an effort to find plus sized clothing that I'm not just settling for, but that I actually like and think flatters my body. This isn't saying that I don't wish I was thin. I do. It's annoying not to be able to wear certain clothes, or to have to jiggle into my pants, or to always wear a tank top under everything because the "ladies" always want to bust out of my shirts. It's not ideal, but that doesn't mean I can't find some happiness in my current body. It doesn't mean I should let my weight control my emotions.
So those are my resolutions. No more perfection. No more allowing myself to feel like crud because I didn't wake up a size 4 that morning. I'm going to admire Pinterest without putting high expectations on myself to recreate the projects and I'm going to stop using my scale.
What are your resolutions?