The scale

I have a love/hate relationship with the scale. In the past, when I was on a diet du jour dropping weight daily, I would jump on and smile most days. It became a game, my daily dose of reality -- although it wasn't really. Although I was losing weight -- and vowing once again that this time was going to be different and I was going to keep it off -- in the back of my mind I knew I was lying.

And once I went off the diet and returned to "normal" eating -- Twizzlers, ice cream and whatever -- my poor scale was stuck in a corner like a forgotten friend.

Since I started eating truly like a "normal" person -- three meals a day filled with fruits, veggies and good protein -- I have stopped my need to jump on the scale. But today I did, and I have a big smile on my face. Without "dieting," I have lost 19 pounds. Sure, it's taken a few months, but those 19 pounds are mine. I did it through healthy eating and tons of exercise. I've sweated for each and every ounce.

I used to be in denial. The diet world of pills, gimics, quick fixes and belts that sent impulses to make my belly to make me skinny loved me. I would jump at any slick shark selling the latest, greatest cure for losing weight.

AND IT WAS MAKING ME CRAZY. Although being on a diet made me feel in control, I wasn't. Today, I am.

Today, I am at peace with myself, with food, with life. It's a great place to be.