Over the last two or three generations, in the western world, at least, what we weigh as measured by a scale has come to dominate our self-image. Granted, carrying around excess "baggage" is something upon which others may judge us. It seems that every twenty pounds of extra body fat translate into a ten-point reduction in IQ. And at some point, we've started to incorporate this bias into our attitudes about ourselves. "Failure" and "lacking willpower" and "loser" become self-descriptors. These thoughts morph into "unworthy," "unlovable," and "unfit." We somehow convince ourselves that we're no longer qualified to participate in our lives. All of this often is triggered after stepping onto a bathroom appliance.

Let's think about that. Allowing a day to be ruined - or made, for that matter - by a number on a scale is, excuse the bluntness, ludicrous. Does it make sense that the difference of two-tenths of a pound one way or another is sufficient to make us question our value? Are we somehow ineligible to walk amongst those lucky, those superior, people who gazed upon the number shown between their feet and gleefully hopped off, embarked upon their day, confident and deserving of happiness and success due to weighing one-half a pound less than last Monday? They're a success, and we're a doltish buffoon, incapable of "achieving" that measly fraction of a pound, kilo, or stone reduction.

Of course, we're not worthy. It's obvious, right? The scale tells us all we need to know about ourselves. We want to weigh X, and the scale reads Q: not even an adjacent letter but one way off. The scale may be a jerk, but we're the ones giving it credence. We transfer our power as sentient creatures to an inanimate object. One we paid for, for God's sake. Let's think about that; something we own—a device for which we paid, and that is our property—is ruining our day. Worse, it may destroy an entire week or month, depending on how often we step on the thing as if we have no choice in the matter.

"I must weigh myself. How else will I know what kind of day lays in store for me? How else will I know to feel?"

It's as if only Mr. Health O Meter, Ms. Tanita, Taylor, or Aria know the measure of our value.

Full disclosure: I write this as someone who has weighed and documented my weight virtually every day since December 18, 2000. And for most of the years since then—before I started the ketogenic protocol— I was the masochist described above. I would emerge from the bathroom demoralized or elated. Fractions of a pound of weight loss or increase determined my mood. (I had long given up hope for dramatic weight shifts. Most years, I started January hoping that December would find me ten pounds lower. Just ten. "That's all I ask, Universe!" I never lost those ten pounds and was more likely to have gained five.) I had no ideal weight in mind. It just needed to be a number lower than whatever glared at me from the scale.

Things started to change when I laid off the carbs, however. Although losing weight wasn't my motivation for starting the ketogenic (low carb) diet, having given up on that years prior, I did indeed lose. After about forty pounds gone, I felt so much better I would often tell My Lovely Mate that I didn't care if I didn't shift another ounce because the improvements in the way I felt were enough for me. Over time, though, I lost another fifty pounds or so, getting to that "ideal weight" neighborhood. I hadn't even been in the same time zone of an ideal weight, let alone its neighborhood. I don't share my weight but suffice to say that I'm pleased. I no longer frame my identity based on how much less or more I weigh than any chart, app, or actuarial table. And my weight has nothing to do with what another person should weigh. Humans are too varied and complex to be boiled down to a single formula regarding height, gender, age, and activity level. I dare say a healthy weight is whatever one weighs then they feel healthy. We know when we feel unwell. Even if some of us have grown so accustomed to the malaise that we can't quite put our fingers on it, we know things are just not quite right.

Fortunately, feeling better can be at hand. Laying off the carbs helps almost immediately. The most important thing is to feel healthier and happier. The trick is not to let real successes be overshadowed by a number on a bathroom scale not reading what we want. I have heard from people who share half a dozen improvements in their life after emerging from the carb-coma: no more joint pain, coming off medications, increased energy, mood regulation. But they then go back to their former eating habits because they "only" lost X number of pounds.

Wha???

It is a perverse corner into which we've painted ourselves. I've written before about the outsized role the scale plays in our lives and how we should pare it down to size, so to speak.But it bears repeating that in the grand scheme of things, trying to meet an arbitrary number that someone came up with somewhere, some time, for some arcane reason, is not what we should be about. We need to take care of our health.

The rest is, you should pardon the expression, icing on the cake. (Let's make that gravy: cream gravy. Yeh, that's the ticket.)

Disclaimer: I’m not a medical doctor, researcher, or Ph.D., but instead, I’ve been fortunate to have had the time and resources to research the ketogenic diet, also known as LCHF (low carb/high fat). The information I share is based solely on my understanding of that research. We are all responsible for our own choices, including what we put in our mouths, and there’s no substitute for each of us checking things out ourselves. And I’m not a medical professional in any way. Go Keto With Casey is not a medical site. “Duh,” you might say. But best to make it clear to all. I welcome questions, comments, and even civil criticism. I’m still learning. So, if you have something to add, go for it. Links in this post and all others may direct you to affiliate links, where I will receive a small amount of the purchase price of any items you buy through those links. Thanks!