Halloween is almost here, so this week we're talking about the scary things we create for ourselves and the strange power we give perfectly ordinary things. 🎃
🍽 The Main Course: Wrong Number!
My doctor and I have had a perfectly good arrangement for years.
I don't get weighed at my appointments. She doesn't make a fuss about it. Everybody's happy.
But at a recent visit, she suggested we get an updated weight. Given a recent injury and the possibility of needing medication, she thought it would be useful for dosing.
Fair enough. There are circumstances when a number is needed. I just didn't particularly want to know mine.
So she offered to turn the scale display away from me. Problem solved.
Fast forward to when I opened my patient portal later that day and there it was, right alongside all my other vital signs. My weight.
Well, that was effective. 😂
The surprising part? I saw the number and, well, nothing much happened.
No sinking feeling. No sudden urge to go for a run, or change what I was eating. Just, "Huh. Okay."
Quite a contrast to the days when stepping on the scale could ruin an otherwise perfectly good morning. You know how it goes. Wake up feeling great, looking forward to the day. Weigh yourself, see a number you don't like, and poof. Goodbye, good mood.
We judge whether the number is good or bad. Whether WE'RE good or bad. Whether we're happy or disappointed. Whether we've earned a pat on the back or we need to get our act together.
Over the years, my body has changed a lot. Clothes that used to fit no longer do, and I've seen the changes in photos and mirrors. And I've manage to live a perfectly good and happy life without knowing the precise number of pounds involved.
There was a time when I didn't want to see the number because I knew what I would put myself through afterward. The self blame and punishment. But that's not why I avoid the scale anymore. I just don't see any reason to know.
For me, there’s freedom in that.
Of course the scale isn’t the only place we’ve learned to let arbitrary measurements mess with our heads.
Years ago, when I was still getting used to the idea that my clothing size didn't mean anything about me, I had a funny little reality check.
I was traveling and realized I hadn't packed enough short-sleeved hiking shirts. So I popped into a store, grabbed a shirt from a hanger marked my usual size, and tried it on.
It was a little big.
Well, look at that! Roomier than expected. How delightful.
I bought it anyway, figuring it might shrink.
Back at the hotel, I happened to notice the actual label inside the shirt.
Two full sizes bigger than my usual size.
It had been on the wrong hanger.
HA!
And just like that, the little ego boost evaporated. Some part of me still believed one letter on a clothing tag was better than another.
Same shirt. Same fit. Same body. Different label. For crying out loud. 🙄
And that brings me back to my little patient portal surprise.
I had no big reaction, right? Look at me, all evolved and at peace with my body!
Except… wait.
Would I have been quite so unbothered if the number had been different?
Hmmm.
I'd love to confidently say yes. But I'm not entirely sure I can.
Maybe some of those old judgments still have a little life left in them. Or maybe not. Either way, I'm not about to start weighing myself again just to find out.
When was the last time a number changed how you felt about yourself, even though absolutely nothing else had changed?
🧙♀️ You're the Witch!
Ah, Halloween. Costumes, pumpkins, trick-or-treating, and the annual question: what to do with all that candy?!
Enter the Switch Witch!
Cousin to the Tooth Fairy, the Switch Witch is a magical Halloween visitor who swaps trick-or-treat candy for money, a toy or some other non-edible prize. A pretty clever solution for parents who'd rather not spend the next three weeks negotiating over miniature Snickers.
And it got me thinking about how many of us adults have created our own versions of the Switch Witch.
We take leftover candy to work to get it out of the house. We hide it from ourselves. We throw it away before we can eat any more. We buy candy we don't particularly like so we won't be tempted.
By November 1, we're treating leftover Halloween candy like hazardous material.
I see this with clients all the time. When someone has spent years feeling out of control around certain foods, simply having them in the house can be stressful.
But here’s the irony: Often the very rules and restrictions we create to keep ourselves “in control” are fueling that struggle.
As kids, the Switch Witch shows up to remove the temptation.
As adults, we become our own Switch Witch.
And the underlying message? You can’t be trusted around this food.
What if, instead of coming up with another clever way to get the candy out of the house, we got curious about why having it there feels so threatening?
🐶
Until next time - more dogs, less dogma. Always.
Carol
P. S. If having certain foods in the house feels like a constant battle, or you're tired of the mental gymnastics of trying to control what you eat, this is exactly what I help clients work through. If you'd like to explore what's keeping you stuck, let's talk!
P. P. S. New here? Welcome! Curious about past issues? You can find them, here.
