I didn’t care about something the other day, and it made me so happy.
I realized the battery in our bathroom scale had been broken for about 2 months. And I didn’t. Even. Care.
I’ve been through periods in my life where I’ve been more than obsessed, and some where I would just use those stupid little digital numbers to make or break my day. None of that felt good. I don’t know what the transition was or how it came. I’m certain some, or a lot of it, came from becoming a mom…all the sudden I saw myself as strong, food as nourishment (i.e.- necessity) and stretch marks as reminders of a pregnancy that brought me my precious, amazing Sullivan. Part of it is probably growing up (which on my opinion doesn’t happen until your 30s). Oh and PS for me, a perk of feeling strong: I’ve fallen in love with running again and become even stronger because of it.
Whatever it is, I’m beyond thankful. I have a general idea of how much I weigh, but I don’t really care :). Liberation!