“Just” A Number.

“Just” A Number. 

I pull down my pants 

I look down at my toes

I rest my elbows on the ends of my filled in legs

My chin in my hands. 

My eyes make its way to below the sink

The square object lies beneath the sink calling out my name. 

I roll my eyes back and look away.

I lift my chest up so I can zipper up my pants. 

I let my chest go and relax my breath

My pants feel tight.

Maybe I need new pants.

Do I need new pants? 

I start washing my hands 

The water feels cold.

My hands don’t feel like they’re getting any cleaner. 

I let my eyes meet the eyes in the mirror.

I don’t know who I am looking at. 

I fix my hair. 

I roll my eyes as my body effortlessly reaches down below the sink

 

I am just curious. 

What is the harm? 

It’s Just A Number

It makes a loud noise as I drag it out from under the sink. 

I tap the square object with the ball of my foot. 

                               Zero. 

Right foot                                   Left foot.

My feet look kind of swollen.

 

           I look up at the ceiling 

I am just curious 

What is the harm? 

It’s Just A Number.

 

           I look down at the square 

My smile grows big

 

I was just curious, 

There is no harm. 

It’s Just A Number.

2 pounds down from last time. 

Yes! 

Yes.. Yes! Yes!! Yess!! YESSSS!

I walk back to my room. I look in the mirror and smile. 

The Number dances around my room in bright colors. The Number looks in the mirror. The Number sits on my bed. The Number picks up my phone. The Number has a mind of its own. 

 

Good work. Keep it up. The Number says out loud. 

And in that moment I realized that something so meaningless 

A Number. 

That essentially measures up to nothing. 

 A Number. 

Can make me feel so happy and validated. 

A Number. 

So then what could it do to me if it didn’t say what I wanted?

And that's when I realized. 

Am I Just A Number? 

-Ali Marriott

 

I thought if the scale made me happy then that’s a good thing, I was doing good, and my progress was showing. As long as it didn’t say a number I didn’t like...

I stepped on the scale and I was happy, confident, and proud of myself. This was the first time I lost weight in a non-toxic way ( i.e F.A.D diets) . I figured I was allowed to be happy this time around about the number on the scale because it was earned in a non-toxic way. Not even realizing that the act of weighing myself was just as toxic as the dieting in my past. 

This poem is supposed to resemble the moment I realized I wasn’t fully healed from my body image related insecurities and that the number on the scale still mattered to me. Even though I became a more confident person through fitness and working on myself, the number on the scale was not “just” a number to me. And I realized that as happy as that number could make me was as much power it held to make me feel the opposite. 

This is a reminder that progress is not shown through numbers. It is shown through habits, daily routine, acts of self love, energy, mood, and so much more. A Number will NEVER be the determination of your progress. And NEVER amount yourself and entire being down to a number. 

 

Don’t give The Number power.