I can quit my Oura ring anytime I want. Honest! But please don’t make me.

For the uninitiated, an Oura smart ring is a wearable device that keeps track of everything that matters to the fitness-and-health-obsessed. Tiny sensors inside the ring, using 20 biometric markers, constantly measure and record your various internal systems: heart rate variability, body temperature, breathing regularity, blood oxygen, activity and sleep. It also calculates the ratio of your stress and restoration.

All of this is presented in user-friendly charts and graphs on an app you download to your smartphone.

I know, it’s a little like waiting for the meteorologist to tell you it’s raining when, plainly, you can look out the window. Likewise, we know how we feel when we wake up and whether we got enough sleep. Or do we? Okay, I check my Oura app as soon as my eyes open in the morning. Why would any sane person do this? To find out how I slept, of course! If I don’t know that I got two hours of REM and 1.5 hours of deep sleep, how will I know how terrific I feel?

Then there are those times when I wake up feeling fine, only to discover I slept a mere 4.5 hours, as I recently did the night before a long drive from South Carolina to D.C. Knowing how tired I must have been made me even more tired. Fortunately, I had a co-pilot who did most of the driving while I napped — and, upon waking, I checked my app.

Sure, there are other devices that do the same thing — Fitbits and smartwatches — but this one got a top rating from Consumer Reports.

I’m not usually a data-driven gal. Sometimes, my officious car tells me I need to take a break and get a cup of coffee, which is just plain annoying. I know when I’m getting sleepy without a prompt from a snarky vehicle. My resentment of advice-giving machines doesn’t extend to Oura, however. This is in part because she doesn’t interrupt me with advice or insist that I alter my behavior. She volunteers information only when I open the app.

For the most part, Oura is gentle, compassionate and encouraging. If I didn’t sleep well, she might suggest I start preparing for bed a little earlier by doing some breathing exercises or meditating. On the other hand, if I scored “optimal sleep latency,” requiring only 16 minutes to fall asleep, she praises me for being “ready for bed.”

Oura offers advice without seeming to wag a finger. She tells me what my heart rate variability score means and explains why there might be gaps in my heartbeat. If my heart rate goes bump during the night, it might mean I drank alcohol too close to bedtime (I did) or looked at a screen before bed (probably). Even when my data fall below “optimal,” Oura says not to worry. We all have days like that. Oura is like the ideal mother who prods us to do better while telling us how wonderful we are. Who doesn’t need that?

I’m not sure what Oura’s inventors intended, but I pronounce the name like the Marine Corps’ Ooooo-rah. When I call to her, I invoke Marlon Brando calling “Stella!” in “A Streetcar Named Desire.” Yes, we’re bordering on a love affair. Who else cares as much about me and gives me so much attention? No. One. And yes, sometimes I realize that I’m altering my behavior to try to please the ring.

Of course I notice when other people are wearing the ring. I’ll look at the person’s finger, then, without a word, hold up my index finger (recommended for the ring). We lock eyes. We nod in concert. We bond.

“Do you love yours?” I heard myself recently say to my editor. She smiled and held up her finger. Like most Oura fans, she was eager to share.

Alas, there’s a downside to every invention. I read somewhere that some people are over-checking their data and stressing out. Oh, please. Some people find a way to become addicted to anything — plastic straws, puppies, auctions, to name a few of mine. But I am 100% not addicted to my Oura. Our relationship is perfectly normal. And for the record, I’ve slipped only once and called her “my precious.”

Kathleen Parker’s email address is kathleenparker@washpost.com.