Your Weight And Your Health Are Not The Same Thing

At one point in 2015, I was nearly 90kg. I was so unhappy and eating my feelings. I had a fucked up relationship with food and my body. Then, I found boxing, and learnt that weight is just a number, it’s something that I’m open about and my coaches would talk about it like it was nothing. I lost any shame for the numbers on the scale, I hovered around 80kg. I was happy and healthy. Then I got sick, and my weight plummeted to 65kg. I was so unwell, my kidneys were failing, I was lethargic, I was anemic, I was slowly dying. But some people would say how ‘great’ I looked. What they meant was thin/skinny. My body composition looked good to them because I’d always been a bit chubby. But I was in the worst health of my life. And then I got a little better. I started training and my weight increased bit by bit. My muscle mass came back. My weight crept back up. I got less compliments from people on my body. I felt better, stronger, but crickets from the people offering their insight into how I looked when emaciated. Now I’m hovering around 75kg. And some days I think I’ve failed - I shouldn’t have let the weight creep back on.I feel like I’ve been conditioned to think that reaching 80kg on the scales is a failure. Lighter = better. Even the doctors told me I needed to keep the weight off, to protect my kidneys. But what impact does 5kg have on my organs and overall health? It has far more impact on my mental health than it does my physical. Some days I think I’ve failed, having let the weight return. But other days I remind myself that the 80kg Cait would have loved to be 75kg. And 80kg Cait was strong, fit and happy, and most importantly, healthy. What I’m saying is, it’s just a fucking number. And it’s one that messes with our heads. But if we think about when we were happiest, strongest, fittest - what measure is weight in those memories?