Hey Beauties.
This week has been a zoo. Serious packing, endless goodbyes and bags of clothes to donate. I’m going to miss this city; the opportunities never end, and the people never stop surprising you. While cleaning out every corner of my apartment, I found my scale under my bed. The all-ruling scale. I hate that thing. I love that thing. I DON’T NEED THAT THING. I stepped on the scale yesterday and saw a ‘high’ number…a really ‘high’ number. It sucked. It made my feel like I had failed. I felt great about myself before that set of numbers. That is when I realized, I don’t need a piece of metal to tell me my worth. I’m awesome, every ounce. So, that stainless steel square is staying in the city and I’m not going to miss it one bit.
The Compost Cook 
yeah…this is a long awaited breakthrough. keep repeating it.
Thanks! …and that’s the plan TONIGHT I even listened to my body and cancelled a workout. Whoa, I’ve come a long way!
I love this, I love this, I LOVE YOU FOR POSTING THIS. Nothing means less than the number on a scale. Good luck living in pack city 🙂
Amazing post! I totally agree – scales are the worst. I never feel good after stepping on one so I’ve stopped weighing myself. If you eat well, exercise and feel good, there’s no reason to see a number because it has no meaning!