I live in a circle of health-conscious friends. I live in a city where restaurants boast options for gluten-free, soy-free, keto, paleo, vegan, etc. I am constantly surrounded by people discussing what’s working or not working for them. How they felt so awful when they ate this way and how they feel so much better eating that way…until a few weeks, months, or years go by…and then I hear them relay how their eating plan has shifted.
“Well, at first I felt amazing eating [insert lifestyle diet here], but then I realized how bloated, lethargic, foggy I actually was. Now eating [insert other lifestyle diet here] feels so much better.”
And so on and so on. I see ketos scoff at raw fruterians. I see vegans shake their heads at paleos. I see raw dairy-ans raise eyebrows at dairy-frees. And when I look to a single friend, and observe their entire food journey up to this point, I notice a lot of frustration, confusion, and general anxiety. That’s the biggest thing. Anxiety over food choices.
My story is not so different. Growing up, I ate a mix of home-cooked meals and processed foods. Yes, there was mom’s meatloaf, pasta, lentil soup, arroz con pollo, salad--alongside hot pockets, pop tarts, pizza bites, chips, candy bars, sodas…you get the idea. I remember feeling gastrointestinal discomfort all the time. I thought it was normal–just a part of being human.
Fast forward to my college years. I started doing one of those workout programs you see on infomercials, and it came with a nutrition plan. I started eating differently and noticed I felt a little better. I also experimented with eliminating dairy from my diet, since I realized I might be lactose-intolerant, and wa-lah, my stomach pains dissipated. What magic is this? Food actually matters?! And so began my obsession with finding the perfect, healthy diet.
Over the following ten years, I gradually incorporated more whole foods into my diet, and I experimented with various lifestyle diets: vegan, paleo, keto, GAPS, gluten-free, sugar-free, juice-based, etc. I noticed a similar pattern. I’d feel better at first, which often led me to share my findings with others, and then I’d feel not-so-good. So I’d move on to the next thing. This led to a lot of confusion. I started feeling overwhelmed by all the seemingly conflicting nutrition information out there. For each diet type, there was a new categorization of good foods and bad foods. Going out to restaurants felt like delicately stepping over a minefield. Even seeing the bad foods on somebody else’s plate would stress me out. “Don’t they know they’re killing themselves?!” I’d think to myself.
I felt like I was in this constant struggle to find out what worked for me, but nothing worked well perpetually, and food became a point of contention and intense anxiety. I also felt frustrated with my body.
Fast forward to when I overcame my sugar addiction (which you can read about in "Healing Chronic Illness and Sugar Addiction"). Once my chronic UTIs disappeared, I continued to avoid sugar like the plague. I was convinced sugar was the root cause of everything awful in my life, and I wanted nothing to do with it. Then, I had an experience that turned everything upside down.
I had been lifting weights for several weeks, progressing quickly. My trainer had told me to add a certain amount of sugar to my protein shakes, but I thought that was a bunch of rubbish. Sugar had caused my UTI plight after all. I would hesitantly dribble the tiniest bit of honey into my plant protein shakes. As the weeks progressed, I felt stronger and stronger, but also felt generally famished and faint. I kept this to myself. Finally, one day, after my body had had enough, I showed up for training and couldn’t lift a weight that had been easy for me 2 weeks prior. My trainer looked at me concerned. “What have you eaten today?” I confessed my meager meal of nuts and eggs. “I’m going to make you a shake.” He came back with a protein shake loaded with coconut nectar. I nervously took a sip and HOLY CRAP, I FELT RE-BORN. I felt like Mario punching a mushroom and growing three times bigger. Every cell inside my body instantly felt revitalized, and I felt so incredibly nourished. I almost cried.
I realized then that avoiding sugar so stringently no longer served me. Turns out, a sugar spike is exactly what my body needed in that moment to be completely nourished. I began to consider a more nuanced approach to food: perhaps any food can be beneficial at the appropriate time, in the appropriate amount.
So I started a new experiment. What if I assumed there were no good foods and bad foods? What if I trusted that my body knew exactly what it needed to nourish itself in any given moment? What if I allowed my body’s needs to change over time, without holding it to a specific agenda?
There was but one rule to follow: eat what you crave.
I reclaimed the word craving as my friend. In society, we always hear about cravings as something to defeat. CUT CRAVINGS. But as a neuroscientist, I was aware of the scientific literature on food choice in animals; we crave what we are nutritionally deficient in and seek out appropriate foods. That’s why, for example, people in survival situations begin to crave fish organs, even though typically they’d be repulsed by the idea of eating raw fish liver. We forget that the body is smart. And so we battle with ourselves.
Over the last few years, I have been letting intuition guide my food choices more and more. The process was uncomfortable at first; I had to unravel the categorizations and rules I’d built up in my mind over the years around food and eating. I realized how much resistance I had to believing that certain foods could be good for you sometimes. A brownie? No way. But then I’d have an experience of eating a brownie I had been craving, and feeling completely nourished afterwards, with no ill effects. And so I started to trust my body wisdom more and more. As time went on, I realized more subtle limiting beliefs I had been operating under, and continued to dissolve all I that I knew. My new creed became ‘no good foods or bad foods.’ Just the foods my body feels most nourished by in this moment now. Subject to change. Ironically, once I gave myself permission to eat what I once categorized as ‘junky foods,’ I began craving them less.
I find myself wondering if intuitive eating would have worked for me when I was deep in sugar addiction. Parsing out my body wisdom seemed more difficult, since I had a hijacked dopamine reward system and compromised gut flora. I craved sugar all the time. And yet, I felt physically ill after bingeing on sugar. So even in that addicted space, I knew what felt nourishing and what didn’t. My body wisdom was still intact and accessible. Even in the throes of sugar addiction, I received the sudden intuitive insight that I should cut sugar out of my diet (for a time) if I wished to heal. That was my body wisdom peaking through. I realized in retrospect, that the ‘cravings’ I’d been feeling for sugar were more a result of mental conditioning. Mental cravings, if you will. Not body cravings. My mind craved sugar. My body felt sick.
When I started eating intuitively, I gradually learned to discern between these mental cravings and authentic body cravings. How? Well, I’d follow through on a craving and then see how my body felt afterwards. Did I feel satiated? Did I feel nourished? Did I feel, well, good? If so, great. Authentic body craving. If not, oh well. Try again later. Over time, my accuracy has improved and now I rarely eat something that makes me feel crappy afterwards.
Years later, I feel so much more at peace with food. There is nothing to analyze. Nothing to pick apart. Nothing to critique. Nothing to keep track of. No more chastising. No more guilt.
I feel at home in my body. I honor my body’s intelligence, and it relishes in my honoring. We trust each other.
I don’t feel triggered by other people’s food choices. What works for me right now may not work for them, and that’s okay. I listen to my friends’ food journeys more compassionately because I have no side that I’m fighting for or against. There is nothing to prove.
People often ask me how I eat because they perceive me as healthy–my skin and eyes are clear; I maintain a healthy weight regardless of my physical activity level; and I haven’t been sick in over three years.
“I eat what my body craves.”
What that has looked like over the last few years has been a diet rich in fruits, vegetables, nuts/seeds, whole grains, eggs, and occasional meats. I notice my patterns shift with the seasons, such as craving raw greens in the summertime and hearty stews in the winter. I naturally crave variety–I’ll rotate through different sorts of foods. Lots of eggs one week. Lots of root vegetables another. Lots of leafy greens the next. Six months ago, I was craving meat much more frequently than I do now. I only wanted chicken or fish. Then later on, I craved grass-fed beef. For the last several months, my body’s wanted meat maybe once a month, if that. I rarely eat dairy, but a few months ago, I craved a cheesy quiche from a bakery. I ate it and felt good, which surprised me since I’d thought I was very lactose-intolerant. Everything’s always shifting. The one constant is that I do generally eat whole, unprocessed foods. But hey, maybe I’ll crave a McGriddle soon. Hasn’t happened yet. But if my body craved it, I’d eat it.
I trust my body wisdom, wholly.
I wish for people to live in greater harmony with their bodies. To communicate with their bodies. To love their bodies. I wish for food to be a celebration. Each of our journeys is unique, and only you know what is best for you. For me, eating intuitively has enriched my life with peace and simplicity. May you discover whatever brings you peace, joy, harmony, and ease–now and forever. And so it is.
With all my love,
Gaia Sophia
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