Scale Scaries

I have been weighing myself since I was probably 14.

I have not only been weighing myself since I was 14, I have been making the number that the scale reads mean something about me.

If the scale reads something I deem as good, then I am awesome. If the scale reads something not so good, then I suck.

I was literally handing over my emotional well being to a little battery powered device each and every morning.

I used to catch myself mid day, thinking “why am I in such a crappy mood?” and then “oh yeah, you didn’t weigh what you wanted to weigh this morning.”

I was letting a number on scale determine my mood.

Determine if I honked at the guy who cut me off. Determine if I gave my assistant the benefit of the doubt. Determine if I was a little too sharp with my husband.

Determine if I was good enough.

Most people would tell you to get rid of the scale. To through it off the proverbial mountain top.

Not horrible advice. But a good way to miss a HUGE opportunity.

SO. I kept the scale. I get on it almost every morning because I want to know how I am doing in relationship to my goal.

BUT, as of this year, I never let it determine how I feel.

Because you see, I determine how I feel. I get to decide what that number on the scale means.


I decide that is just a number and has nothing to do with my worth or my mood or my body.

So I ALWAYS make it mean something either positive or neutral. ALWAYS.


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