An Open Letter to the Scale

Dear Scale,

I remember the first day we met, it was love at first sight, or so I thought. As a young college student, my idea of love was the same as infatuation and obsession and while I didn’t know that, you took advantage of it. It started out as any true love relationship does, slowly. I’d see you every few days; a few times we hung out. There was nothing wrong with it. From the outside everyone around me loved what you were doing for me. You were helping me to find my better self. You showed me the good and bad within myself, and you showed me how hard work can begin to pay off. We established an unbreakable bond, and I loved this newfound relationship. I thought you were making me better, into the person I had always wanted to be. With every meeting, you helped me shed the insecurity off of my body. You allowed me to jump higher and run further, be better than the old me. You were my motivator, you were my best friend, you were the one thing that could keep me going, you gave me control and you gave me happiness like only one’s true love can give. But then something happened.

You became abusive. Or maybe, I did.

I started to become obsessed with the numbers you put up, watching them slowly getting smaller.  The rewards you gave me were all I wanted.  The world outside didn’t matter as much.  I hurt people so they wouldn’t think anything, I lied, and I missed out on life for “us”. Then when you would show me the ugly side of myself, that pound gained because of a piece of chocolate, I would fall apart.  And with your blessing I would punish myself. First you convinced me to workout. Hidden workouts, the secret workouts in my room, where no one could see what I did or the level of exertion you drove me to.  Everyone knew I went to the gym, but it was what I wore, and how many times I went. When that wasn’t enough to get your love and rewards, I started taking food away. Less and less, even at times purging it away. And at my lowest, you helped to convince me that I should hurt myself. Take the control back that brought us together in the worst form.  But you liked that, and you rewarded me with every smaller number displayed. You loved it when I started writing the numbers on my mirror, to stare at my highs and lows every day.  You praised me standing in the mirror and picking out the good and bad that was my body. But it was our secret.  I loved it; having such a big secret that I knew would make me better in time.  You were helping me to find perfection.

Our relationship was completely reliant on each other. I didn’t know how to function without you, and you went with me wherever I went. You made me feel control, or what I idealistically thought control was, and you made me feel happiness. You were my best friend, my love, you were all I cared about, and the worst part was, no one knew. They saw the changes in my body, “you are looking so good” and “that looks great on you.” But they didn’t know it was because of what would finally be realized as an unhealthy, terrible, and abusive relationship.  At the bottom, we had our first fight. I hit you, and then ate everything in sight.  I was fighting back. But you won, and I purged it away.  That moment was the moment where it all changed. The fatigue of doing everyday tasks, the lies beginning to mount, the people looking up to me and me knowing I was a terrible role model, the hurt I knew I was causing myself and the people I love; those feelings won. I decided to break up with you.

Breaking up with you was not and is still not easy.  As time went on though, I realized hating you was not fair, and this is my apology. My apology for taking as much advantage of you as you did of me. For blaming you for problems that were much deeper than the rewards you gave me.  For relying on you unfairly. And most importantly for using you for something that wasn’t your intention.  But I also want to say this to you: you no longer own me and we are no longer in a relationship. We will always be friends, have that relationship where we hang out every once in a while. But your “rewards” and your “control” will no longer be a part of my life.

You set standards at times that are unrealistic, even though they are backed by the social media that constantly surrounds our society. You put up numbers that seem to define who we are, but you’re numbers should be no more than that, just numbers, not any type of definition. As time has gone on, I now look at those numbers as my strength, as goals, and as health, not as control and hate. Not the things that our relationship taught me to look at them as. Our relationship is now redefined and I hope that it brings you the peace it has brought to me. It isn’t always easy, and I miss you and our past relationship sometimes, but I will never let myself go back to any type of relationship like that.

You have left me with scars and a permanent battle I cannot forget, but you also have given me something else: my strength. So to you, the scale that once owned me, thank you for breaking me and for helping me to see the faults within myself, because it has allowed me to find my strength. And I truly hope that one day your relationships with everyone else are healthy and happy. But from me, for now, goodbye.