To Scale or Not To Scale

There’s a certain stigma attached to the weight scale. It tells you that you’re too fat or too thin. It makes you panic and the numbers adjust to what you may or may not weigh. Worst of all, it makes you feel uncomfortable in your own body.

I have lived scale-free for years. When I lived with my dad, he had a scale, but I tried my hardest not to use it. All I feel is paranoia when I step on the scale.

My weight seems to fluctuate around the same mark since I graduated from high school. I’m blessed with good genes and no one in my family is overweight, just big boned thanks to our Chinese heritage (My biceps are abnormally large compared to the rest of my body!). But that scale? I hate it. Kyle’s mom has one and whenever we visit and I always cave and weigh myself.

When I was in high school and played soccer, I weighed around 115lbs. About a year and a half ago I weighed about 127lbs. Sometime around (Canadian) Thanksgiving was the last time I weighed myself, and I think I was somewhere around 123lbs. Today, I have no idea.

Which brings me to the point of this post: Should I buy a scale of my own or should I just “wing” my weight? Part of me says to keep winging it. Part of me says to keep on track and don’t get too crazy since I want to be able to fit my wedding dress properly when I get it altered next week. I also don’t want to exercise and watch what I eat only to have the scale not budge an inch, especially an inch in the wrong direction.

I think the scale only brings more pressure onto ourselves. I believe in the “If it feels good, do it” mantra: I’m going to do what I like and eat what I like, when I feel like it. I also believe that you should take everything in moderation, which is why you won’t catch me doing one-hour workouts at 6:00 a.m. in the morning, or crash dieting on celery, boiled chicken, and egg whites. You will, however, catch me accidentally eating a carb-loaded energy bar after a workout instead of loading up on protein. Live and learn friends, live and learn!

What are your thoughts on weight scales in the house? Are they a demon that glares at you everytime you look their way, or are they a blessing that cheers “Way to go! Only x more pounds to go!”

From now on, I think I’ll answer the question, “How much do you weigh?” with, “Enough to feel good about myself.”

Battling the Enemy

As a woman, I am cursed with society’s view on body hair – Shave your legs, shave your armpits, pluck your eyebrows! Luckily, those things are easy to maintain. They take all of five minutes to do and very rarely are you ever teased about them. Unless, of course, you like your uni-brow and let it grow wild. Anyway…

I am also cursed with lovely upper lip hair. It’s not that thick, and it’s not that dark, but it’s there, and I notice it, and it bothers me. A lot. Growing up, I was teased quite often about it. Yep, Kara’s a boy. Yep, Kara has a moustash. “Moustashio” I was once called. It hurt. A lot. No one likes to be teased, especially about something that you can’t help at the age of seven.

Come high school, I would use Nair to remove it, but I would always burn my skin and it would leave dry patchy rashes.. I tried having it waxed, but that would cause me to break out. Add that to the redness, and it almost made it worse. I eventually gave up and just tried to deal with it. Until today.

Today I went to a local laser treatment clinic, where they do everything from Botox to microdermabrasion. I made an appointment for laser hair removal last week and at 9:30 this morning, I began my treatments to get rid of my horrible upper lip hair once and for all.

Let me tell you – It hurt like hell! There’s still redness from the procedure, but if I don’t break out with little zits and it doesn’t burn up my skin, I’ll deal with it every 6-8 weeks. The technician who did the procedure was super nice and made me feel comfortable about everything, not embarrassed.

I know I should love myself for who I am, and I do, but sometimes you just have to do things that help your insecurities. I look forward to being able to stand in front of someone and have a conversation without wondering if they’re staring at that space between my lip and nose.

And let me tell you this – It took a lot for me to share this with you guys. In real life, only Kyle and my mom know I’m doing this. That’s how self conscious I am about it all.

Eyes, Don’t Fail Me Now

Image via We <3 It

I have had amazing 20/20 or better vision all my life. My eye doctor was always impressed with my amazing ability to see things far away and I must admit, it was fun to brag. Kyle, our (old) roommate and his girlfriend all wear glasses/contacts. I enjoyed not having to whine about my eyes being dry or tired because of the lenses. I would brag about becoming a fighter pilot because of my awesome vision. But …

The other day I was playing my new video game like the nerd I am and had a hard time reading the print on the screen. I figured my eyes were just tired – yup, just tired. It was fairly late in the evening, so I figured I just needed to go to bed. However, the next day, the words on the screen were still a little blurry. Aww, shit. I asked Kyle if they looked blurry to him, and he said no. Double shit. Now I’m contemplating going to the eye doctor to find out if my beautiful 20/20 vision is finally failing me.

Believe me – I didn’t think it would last forever. Both of my parents wear corrective lenses. My mom for distance, my dad all the time, so I knew it would only be a matter of time before I had to get them. I just thought it would last a little longer. I don’t think I look good in glasses. My biggest fear is that the only ones that will look good on me are the black-rimmed ones that all the Asian kids wear. *sigh* We’ll see I guess.