Out of all the advice my mother has given over the period of my life, I can confidently say that I will always remember her saying, ?Stacey, never own a scale.? Since, I always do as mother says I don?t own a scale. At the time when she told me this I assumed I was being drilled yet once again about the lurking dangers of eating disorders. My mother gave me this advice in my early teens and she had a complete phobia that I would develop an eating disorder. Well, my mother was successful, I always eat three times a day and would never consider going on fad diets, compulsive binges or psychotic exercise routines.
However, now that I think more about her advice, I don?t think she was telling me to never own a scale to avoid an eating disorder. Her advice was more to be happy with the way I look in the mirror and with myself than with a lying number that appears on a scale.
To start off my assignment I decided to weigh myself, seeing that it wouldn?t be fair if I only weighed my friends. First, I had to borrow my neighbor?s scale and before I stepped on I guessed that I weighed approximately 135 pounds, my last weight at the doctor?s office. I then stepped on the scale knowing that number would read what I had assumed and jumped back off as quickly as I got on when it read 142 pounds. Not exactly the number I was hoping for. I didn?t understand how I couldn?t have noticed the weight gain. Then I did what anyone would do when they think there is no way that they could have gained weight, I borrowed another scale. This time I was much more hesitant when stepping up to the scale. This time it read 145 pounds, I then preceded to return the scale immediately and inform my friend that it is wrong and she ways three pounds less than she does.
I was going to ask my friend to guess her weight and to step on, but for some reason, I had a sudden urge to go to the gym instead. While working out I started contemplating why I was there, before I began my assignment I always tried to get a workout in a few times a week but never made it a big issue. I began to think back to my mother?s advice, ?Never own a scale.? After thinking about her advice I realized that she was completely right. I was completely content with my body before I stepped on the scale, and the evil scale made me question my own beliefs. After I came to that conclusion I decided that I couldn?t let my friends question their body images.
So, instead of weighing my friends, I decided to observe the difference between men and women at the gym. Once, I began to look around the room in a gender perspective I just about died laughing. The gym I work out at is one big gigantic room, all the free weights are at one side of the room, then there are the machine weights, then there is all the cardio machines, where I am currently at. I noticed that on the side I am at there are thirteen other women either on treadmills, bikes or stair-steppers and there is a elderly gentleman walking up a sweat and one middle age man with a bear belly biking. Then I look over to the men pumping steel. Every single man is about my age to about thirty.
When I joined the gym I feared that everyone would watch me but it only took one workout to realize that isn?t true. All the guys at the far end of the gym watch themselves in the mirrors instead of the girls. After watching the boys watch themselves, I began to wonder if after their workout would they go into the locker room and weigh themselves. Would males be more excited if the number was higher or if it was lower?
Although, it was interesting doing this assignment, the part I did, borrowing a scale. I decided to go with what my mother taught me and don?t base your image on a number.