Why I stopped standing on the scales

An editor talks about her years of struggle with her scales and has good reasons ready why you should also break up with the device.

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I can still clearly remember when I stood in front of the mirror for the first time and saw not just myself, but above all a body. I must have been 13. I pinched my thighs. So tight until it hurt It formed between the index finger and thumb, the orange peel that always annoyed my mother. At the time, I was taller than most of my classmates and more of the spindly category. My growth spurt gave me protruding hip bones, but also stretch marks and a more feminine bottom - and still no breasts. I was 13 years old and dissatisfied with my body for the first time.

I turned 16 and I was still very slim. I ate everything I could get my hands on. My pubertal metabolism didn't care at all. I can say that today. In retrospect. When I think back to my 25-inch jeans, which I fit easily into. Back then? I felt then fat. The days of the Kardashians with their big asses lay ahead of us. It was the 00s. In the 2000s, breasts mattered. And when I was 16, I didn't have that either.

The logical consequence? Diet. My mother's "Brigitte Diet" book had to be enough to read for this purpose. In plain English, this meant a daily intake of 1,000 calories for me. Because I had read somewhere that after 6 p.m. it was better to go without food at all, it quickly became 800 calories. 800 calories and a number of kilograms, which from now on I wrote myself with kohl on my child's mirror as an incentive. It was at this time that the love-hate relationship with our Libra began.

Weight: a number determines happiness

I now checked my weight several times a day. It was nothing more than sheer compulsion. 200 grams more or less decided about my daily constitution. The tingling sensation that I felt every single time the numbers formed red on the display was not a warning sign for me, but my very own adrenaline rush. 50 kilos - that was the magic number that should make me happier, more beautiful, more popular and more desirable. Spoiler: I didn't get any happier with the few pounds less.

The scales as excess baggage

None of that changed when I moved out of my home after graduating from high school. It only got worse. After all, my metabolism wasn't quite as gracious as it was when I was a teenager. I even took my own scale home to my parents during the semester break because it was more precise than the one in my parents' house. The scales decided. It was she who determined whether I would feel good in my newly bought dress. She determined whether I would dance and have fun as I left. At one point she even decided whether I would go to the interview for a student job. I did not go. I was aware of the absolute ridiculousness of my actions - but I couldn't help myself.

Disturbed eating behavior also occurs in people of normal weight

Incidentally, during all this time I was never overweight - not even close. But not too thin either. Disturbed eating behavior and a disturbed relationship to the body also exist with normal weight. At some point I admitted that to myself. After years of self-hatred, meticulously written down thigh measurements, and soup and drinking days, at some point I stopped feeding my scales a new battery and have not known how much I weigh for seven years. I can't even guess. During the last health check-up, I asked the doctor not to tell me the weight - and closed my eyes on the scales.

Another extreme? Maybe. But it is precisely the last seven years that have taught me to accept my body and even to love a little. We all know: The scales say absolutely nothing about our figure. And our figure, in turn, says absolutely nothing about us. And a little more self-love would make the world a better place. (Incidentally, Kate Winslet also sees the scales that way!)

6 things i know today

1. The scales lie

Muscle is heavier than fat. Period. And because fat takes up much more space than muscle tissue, trousers that have become too tight suddenly fit us again after regular training, although the number on the scales has not changed, or has even increased.

For a long time, my weight was the reason why I gave up weight training and preferred to torture myself on the treadmill. A meaningless number disturbed my perception in such a way that I did not even see the positive changes in my body. Perceive yourself, see how you feel in your body. A scale says little about your health! Do you really want to measure your progress? Okay, then grab the tape measure.

Best example? Kelsey Wells:

2. Numbers in general don't say much

In my closet I have jeans in size 36, dresses in XS, but also trousers in size 40 that keep my thighs tight. And? Further?

3. The scales take away your motivation and joy

Every day that you are good to your body, exercise and eat well is a good one. Why do you allow yourself to be taught a better (worse!) By a soulless part? Libra won't tell you how good you look in your new pants, and it certainly won't give you a shoulder paw if you set a new bench press record.

4. The scales set you wrong goals

Do you train well, eat healthy and nothing is happening on your scales? The temptation is to eat less and do more cardio as a result. This is definitely not healthy behavior and it certainly won't bring you the results you want in the long run.

Listen to your body. He needs fuel to survive, and it is absolutely necessary to eat enough to exercise effectively … or, quite simply, to enjoy life.

5. 10 pounds less doesn't make you happier …

Read this from an editor for a women's magazine: Don't listen to the magazines that tell you that you are only one diet away from happiness. I am currently 50 pounds. Maybe 63 or 58. I honestly don't know. But one thing I know pretty well: At 50 kilos I was NOT happy. I was driven, tense, and hated the way I looked more than I ever could today. Chocolate would certainly have helped back then. But I forbade myself to do that.

6. … and EVERYONE has cellulite

My dents didn't really shrink even at 50 kilos. 90 percent of all women have cellulite. This is simply due to our connective tissue. So we do not "suffer" from it - it is simply normal. Beyoncé, Bella Hadid, my best friend, me, my mom - we all have dents.

It is clear that tabloid articles with titles like "Cellulite Alarm" are not necessarily conducive to loving your body. So do us a favor and set a good example. Show your daughters your dents with pride. Hide Do not wear a caftan at the lake and stand by your body - if not for you, then for the self-confidence of a whole future generation.