Scales are scary things. They cut through the crap to a certain sort of quantifiable reality/unreality. What woman hasn't dreaded stepping on the scale? What woman hasn't allowed a seemly innocuous, seemingly accurate number, color her day? To shame her?
Arbitrary and cruel.
While health issues are real and somewhat quantifiable, they are not absolute. They are relative to each organism and irrelevant to the worth of the person.
I submit to this gizmo, with its touted accuracy and digital memory, and its tyranny. I embrace its hold on me. I am not yet ready to give it up. But, I will not, for all its tyranny, allow it to dictate my day, my moment or my week.
Like my six year old self, I will become proud of my body again. These are proud numbers.
I will let the scale draw a trajectory, chip away at any imposed sense of shame, and contribute to an artwork.