I was in my early 30s the first time I really worried about the number on the scale.
I had just come through a difficult period of depression—the year I turned 29—and had gained a significant amount of weight. Once the depression was under control, my focus shifted to the weight, because that is what I was told by the doctors to focus on.
Eventually, the weight came off. And that’s when my relationship with the scale really began.
For years after that, the number on the scale had the power to make or break my mood. Even when I gained weight, I could usually lose it again. But then perimenopause and menopause hit—and things changed. What had always felt manageable suddenly didn’t.
For a while, I kept weighing myself, and that number continued to shape how I felt about myself… and, if I’m being honest, how I showed up in the world.
At some point, I stopped stepping on the scale altogether. And that worked—for a little while. But the truth was, I still didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin.
Recently, I found my way back to strength training after a few years away. And something shifted.
I started to realize that the number on the scale isn’t what matters most to me anymore.
What matters is feeling strong. Capable. Powerful.
Today, I deadlifted 165 pounds and bench pressed 65 pounds. These aren’t my personal bests—but they feel like something even better: progress. Momentum. A return to myself.
Of course, I know there are other numbers that matter—blood pressure, cholesterol, blood sugar. Those are important pieces of the bigger picture.
But the number on the scale? That’s no longer the one I look to for a true measure of my health.
These days, I want to lift heavy barbells.
And more importantly, I want to be able to scoop up my granddaughter when she asks, lift her high in the air, swing her around—and hear those giggles.
The scale may still exist.
But it no longer gets a vote.
.
Coach Kareen 