I think one of the challenges of dieting and maintaining is developing a healthy relationship with the scale. (Yeah, I know it's an inanimate object. Bear with me.) For some people, that means ignoring it and going by how clothes fit, or simply not weighing regularly.
For me, that means weighing regularly but accepting what the scale says in a rational way. A way that doesn't involve screaming, jumping up and down, crying, or otherwise carrying on like a 2-year old.
To give you a sense of what I mean, I've been on a very regimented diet and training program for the last month. Briefly, the diet portion of the program is a cyclical ketogenic diet with a low-cal/low-carb phase (for fat loss) followed by a high carb/maintenance or more phase (for muscle gain). Carb-cycling in this way, when coupled with cycled workouts that are structured to either deplete glycogen or stimulate muscle growth, generates substantial swings in water weight.
Constant tracking has allowed me to pinpoint the source of scale swings, and accept them for what they are. So, for example, I "gained" 2.8 pounds last night, day 2 of a 2-day carbup. I know that I didn't eat 9,000 calories above maintenance yesterday, and that virtually all of the 2.8 pounds is water weight: some to get back to normal hydration levels, some supercompensation. I also know that a couple of days of maintenance-level eating will yield a drop in the scale, not to the lowest pre-carbup weight (because that was taken when my muscles were unusually depleted of glycogen) but roughly half way. I can accept the 2.8 pound "gain" and move on with my day in a healthy mental state.
I'm not suggesting that everyone run out and do a CKD, far from it. My point, though, is that once we really get to know our bodies and how they respond to different stimuli (diet or exercise), it's much easier not to be "afraid" of the scale. And that's a Good Thing.
//b. strong,
Kim