The traditional form of slavery has been over for my people, African-Americans, for years and years and years now, but I still have a master that I serve. You may think I am speaking of God. I know Christians should have only one master and that is our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ but I must confess I have another master. I serve him daily. I think about him constantly. I usually start my day with him and end my day with him. I feel happy if he shows me something good and I get sad when he shows me something bad. What this master tells me determines what kind of day I am going to have at times. I have tried to break free from the bondage of his hell for years but for some reason I keep going back.
Others judge me on by what my master says about me. My own doctor listens to the master and if the master does not produce the magic number she gives me a label. Her label is called, morbidly obese. Now I am not pretending to be a scholar when it comes to words but doesn’t morbid mean death. I have been given a death sentence based on a number. No test, no examine, and no conversation, just a number. This number that my master produces can even affect my health insurances, jobs, or even relationships. So now not only am I a slave to my master but my master now controls what others think of me as well.
This form of slavery is tricky because I am to blame for it. No one forced me to become its slave or is holding me here as a slave but I just can’t shake him. I have tried to throw him away and lock him up but it never works. I need for him to show me the number. My life has become surrounded by a number. Even when I declare my new healthy life style I always come back to my master to measure my success. A 20 dollar deal at Wally World has become ruler of my life. How sad is this. No matter how much progress I make, my master can erase all of it with one quick flash of a number. That is power. No person should have that much power over your life so why do I continue to allow my master, the scale, to do so.
Now for those who read this and think that I am going through a self hatred stage in my life please read it again. I am just being honest about one of the other masters I serve. For those who have never had this relationship with the scale then I can see how you may misinterpret my post. But mostly everyone has another master they serve. It may be alcohol, sex, cleaning, drama, work, or even a person. When was the last time you took an honest look at your master?
Fat Diva Rule #6: Find other ways besides a scale to measure your healthy living successes! Can you walk up the stairs now without being out of breath? Can you touch your toes? Can you cross your legs? Can you fit your seatbelt around you? Can you get into that size 16 dress you bought when you knew you were a size 20 thinking it was cut big?
Lesson Learned: Never be a slave to anyone or anything!
Smwah!! Enjoy the Journey!
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