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Numbers on the scale DO scare me.

I went to the doctor's office once for a general check up. No specific health related reason Why I was there. My doctor was a weight loss Natzi - in a good way. She was very adamant about everyone being in a healthy weight range. I trusted her because she was a young Black woman and didn't force 135lbs on me but knew that at 301.1lbs, I needed to shed some of this excess. 

I knew "the talk" was coming when she walked into the exam room. I'd had it a hundred times before with her. But with the number 301.1 burned into my mind, I felt like she was coming to bring me news of a fatal illness. As soon as she walked into the room, I broke down and cried. I felt crazy because the woman hadn't even said anything to me yet. She barely looked me in my eyes when I began to cry. 

That was my moment. A turning point for me.  

Those of you who know me, or follow me on Instagram at the least, know that two years ago, I lost 45 lbs. It was the most weight I've ever lost. I'd given up meat, I worked out five times a week and my diet was on point! But, here I am two years later, at the back door of the 300 club. Where I said I'd never be again. Where disease and health conditions stare me in the face and heart attacks threaten me at night. My clothes don't fit anymore and I am simply uncomfortable in my body.  

So, you can imagine my disappointment after a whole week of eating better and working out heavy, I step on the scale and see +2 lbs. Before you give me the "but muscle is heavier than fat" speech or the "but you should see how your clothes fit" speech, consider where we are. I currently weigh 295.2 lbs. Again, diseases linger at this weight. Those 2 lbs mean everything to me. They are literally the difference between life and death. 

So, yes, the scale does scare me. I try my hardest not to be discouraged. But I won't act like the numbers on that scale don't mean something to me. Because they do. They represent the likelihood that I'll carry my babies full term in a healthy pregnancy. They represent the likelihood that I'll live to see my grandchildren grow up and be able to actually play with them. They represent some pretty heavy stuff for me. So please, don't dismiss my feelings about them by telling me that muscle weighs more than fat. I know my own body and I know damn well it isn't muscle that's adding those two pounds back to my life. 

Until next week's weigh-in.  

TGwBH