Body weight is not an easy thing. We obsess over it, we try to maintain it, we criticize ourselves and sometimes even others for it, and we often gauge at least part of or maybe all of our self-worth because of it. Perhaps this issue seems to be more of a female area, but I’ve known men with said concerns and men with eating disorders, as well.

During a recent visit to the doctor, I was given a stellar report of my health, lauded for my daily exercise and nutrition, advised to consider my plans for children soon because I’m at the age where my fertility is degrading rapidly… and I was weighed. And my weight, a larger number than I expected, did not match any number I imagined I actually am, especially because my clothes have actually gotten looser in the last year and I’ve increased my workouts and have been asked that savored question, “Did you lose weight?” Out of all of the good news from my doctor visit, what stuck with me longest? The number, how much I weigh. The doctor wasn’t concerned, and I admitted that for many reasons, I usually go with how I feel and how my clothes fit and don’t weigh myself, which she supported. But I realized the self-conscious element still exists for me. Even though I know weight is determined by so many things, I was affected.

Within a couple of weeks of my experience, my awareness was heightened around friends chastising themselves (and even another) for matters of weight. I heard a colleague announce that she completely cut out sugar because she heard that’s what gets rid of cellulite, which she noticed more of lately on her legs (by the way, she’s quite thin). I attended a lovely dinner with amazing, beautiful, active, thin women who either lamented that they needed to be conscious of a second helping of a very low-fat, healthy dinner or lose five to 10 pounds. I talked, heart to heart, with a friend who admitted her own self-consciousness about weight, and we both shared our family influences. I was at dinner with someone who pointed to a heavier woman behind us, and I was incredulous and disappointed she’d take note of this woman in that way and was not impressed; my response in the moment was simply no response, but I took this gesture as “great information” about one’s character. Then, talking with my dear, long-time friend who has struggled with eating disorders for all of the time I’ve known her, my heart was again sad to hear of some continued struggles.

All of these experiences really struck a personal chord and remind me of why, overall, I am both very aware and careful with how I view and treat my own body and why I typically accept my body for what it is—and why I want to shush people degrading themselves because of weight. My mother was bulimic for more than 20 years, and we recently again talked about the impacts of her experience on her and our family; she also said it was okay to mention this “family secret” here, with my main intentions for insight and learning. I remember how the bathroom often smelled after Mom had used it, but as a young child never knew what was really happening. In grade school and into high school, when Mom had bouts of intense food-measuring and calorie-counting accompanying her disorder, I was measuring and limiting my food, obsessively. While I wouldn’t say I had an eating disorder myself, I definitely had distorted body image and lost a lot of weight as I entered high school and got a little distracted with my weight. But getting bronchitis at least twice that winter, among other consistent illnesses and feeling tired and like crap, I realized I had to better my eating habits and let go of the unhealthy patterns with the help of a school counselor, who helped me see and cope with many other family dynamics. As anyone who has experienced or witnessed eating disorders will tell you, these patterns are based in the psychological and emotional realms; for our family, there was so little control in almost all aspects of our lives because of my abusive, unstable step-father at the time, and food was one thing my mom could control.

While I’m still human, I truly am more than not—now—accepting of my imperfect body. That recent number threw me a bit, but I’ve shaken it off, and I’m back to trusting all is well, while staying aware of the importance of my continued awareness and practice of regular fitness and good nutrition. In Boulder, in the midst of all kinds of what I call “food stuff” (gluten-free, no-carbs, food combining, vegan, vegetarian, pescetarian, etc.) that admittedly makes having dinner guests more stressful and calculated, I believe in moderation, not deprivation. But each person needs to honor his/her body. Overall, with this blog post, I just felt inspired to call attention to even the “little knocks” we or others say about weight. It’s time to stop. Some people need to be more sensitive, as well, with themselves and others. Sure, there are legitimate times to be concerned with our physical weight, and handling those situations in an educated, healthy way is wonderful.

My request: When we hear those unnecessary comments about weight coming out of someone else’s mouth or our own, let’s see what happens when we call that someone or ourselves out with the words (spoken aloud) “cancel, clear delete” and wave our hand in the air with a quick swipe, erasing that type of remark or any remark that unnecessarily degrades our wonderful, beautiful, unique Self. We know the power of self-talk. Keep it healthy.