With the season of eating quickly approaching, I got to thinking about the scale. My scale lives up on a shelf in my closet. I stopped regularly using it years ago. I weigh myself now about once a month, but when I used to pop on daily, it was for the following reasons:

1. To see if I had dodged the calorie bullet
2. To see if my meal plan was actually working
3. To bad-girl myself and have a reason to throw a self-pity toddler tantrum.

Yes, there was always the chance that it could announce the grand news that I was down 2 pounds from yesterday, but it could just as easily witch-slap me with the broadcast that I’m up 3 pounds after running two miles (in a row) the previous day.

This is the scale I use now:

Am I making unhealthy choices or healthy choices?

When one of my goals in life is to be kind to myself and others, I just can’t take the chance of meddling with my emotions like that so early in the day. There are so many things that can make me feel like I’m getting sized up, I don’t have to voluntarily jump on one first thing every morning. The scale does help me from living in denial about my choices, but I’m good with a monthly check-in on that. No thanks to the daily reminder.