There. Now I never have to clean again.

Of course not.

You know what’s coming.

Someone will leave a cup on the counter. Shoes will appear by the door. Mail will pile up. You’ll cook dinner and somehow use every pot you own.

Nobody is necessarily doing anything wrong.

Life is just happening.

And life has a way of making things messy.

The same thing happens with our priorities.

We have these moments when everything feels perfectly organized.

I’m going to prioritize my health.

I’m going to eat foods that make me feel good.

I’m going to stop using food to deal with stress.

I’m going to prepare my meals.

I’m going to stop putting myself last.

Everything has a place.

Then life starts happening.

And little by little, things get moved around.

That’s why keeping your priorities straight requires consistently straightening your priorities.

Priorities Drift

Most people don’t wake up one morning and consciously decide: My health isn’t important anymore.

It happens much more quietly than that.

Work gets busy.

The kids need something.

You’re traveling.

Someone gets sick.

There’s a birthday.

Then a wedding.

Then vacation.

Then football season.

Then Halloween.

Then Thanksgiving.

Then Christmas.

You grab something because it’s convenient.

You skip preparing food because you’re tired.

You start snacking more.

You stop paying attention to hunger.

You haven’t eaten enough protein lately.

You’re drinking your calories again.

One little thing gets out of place.

Then another.

Then another.

Eventually you look around and wonder: How did I get all the way over here?

Probably the same way your kitchen gets messy.

Not because you decided you wanted a disaster.

Because you were living in it and weren’t straightening things as you went.

This Is Where Diet Mentality Gets Us Into Trouble

Diet mentality tends to have two settings: Perfect and I blew it.

The house is either spotless or it’s a disaster.

So when things get a little messy, we don’t straighten them.

We wait.

Monday.

Next month.

After vacation.

After the holidays.

January 1.

Then we announce that we’re going to START OVER.

But imagine treating your house this way.

There’s a dirty coffee cup on the counter, so you say: Well, the kitchen isn’t perfect anymore. I guess I’ll just throw garbage on the floor until Monday.

That would be ridiculous.

You’d pick up the cup.

You don’t need a new kitchen.

You don’t need a 30-day kitchen challenge.

You don’t need to punish yourself for leaving the cup there.

You just need to put the cup away.

Maybe we need to start treating our keto lifestyle the same way.

Straighten, Don’t Start Over

This may be one of the most useful mindset changes you can make.

Stop asking: “How do I get back on track?”

And start asking: “What needs straightening?”

Maybe nothing major happened.

Maybe you’ve just gotten into the habit of eating after dinner again.

Straighten it.

Maybe you’ve noticed that every meal has slowly become cheese, cream, sauces and keto extras with a little protein hiding underneath.

Straighten it.

Maybe you’re eating because food is available rather than because you’re hungry.

Straighten it.

Maybe you’re buying so many keto snacks that your pantry looks like a convenience store.

Straighten it.

Maybe you’re obsessing over the scale again.

Straighten it.

Maybe you’re comparing your progress to somebody on Instagram.

Straighten it.

Maybe you’re trying to fast longer, eat fewer calories, eliminate more foods and exercise harder because the scale went up two pounds.

Straighten it.

Not everything requires demolition.

Sometimes you just need to put a few things back where they belong.

But First You Have to Know What Your Priorities Are

This is where things get interesting.

If I asked you: What are your priorities with keto?

What would you say?

Weight loss?

Health?

Blood sugar?

Energy?

Freedom from food obsession?

Mobility?

Being able to play with your grandchildren?

Getting off the dieting roller coaster?

Feeling comfortable in your own body?

Those priorities matter because sometimes the things we’re doing in the name of keto are actually working against the reason we started keto.

For example: If your priority is freedom from food obsession, but you’re thinking about food every waking minute because you’re tracking seventeen different metrics, something may need straightening.

If your priority is health, but you’re terrified to eat because the scale might go up tomorrow, something may need straightening.

If your priority is sustainability, but your current plan is so restrictive that you’re counting the hours until you can quit, something may need straightening.

If your priority is being present with your family, but you’re spending the entire family dinner anxious about what everyone else is eating, something may need straightening.

Sometimes the problem isn’t that we’ve abandoned our priorities.

We’ve accidentally replaced them.

The Scale Is Especially Good at Rearranging the Furniture

You can have your priorities perfectly organized:

Health.

Strength.

Energy.

Consistency.

Better food choices.

Then you step on the scale.

Up three pounds.

Suddenly WEIGHT LOSS grabs the couch and drags it into the middle of the living room.

Everything else gets shoved against the wall.

Now you’re cutting food.

Skipping meals.

Adding fasting.

Avoiding salt.

Questioning protein.

Wondering whether you should do a three-day fast.

Looking for a new challenge.

All because one number convinced you to rearrange the entire house.

That’s exactly when priorities need straightening.

Ask yourself: What mattered yesterday before I saw that number?

Those things probably still matter today.

Maintenance Requires Maintenance

We seem to understand this everywhere except health.

You maintain your house.

You maintain your car.

You maintain your property.

You maintain equipment.

You maintain relationships.

Why would we expect our habits to require no maintenance?

You are going to drift.

So are we.

Everybody does.

That’s not pessimistic.

That’s life.

The goal isn’t to reach some magical level of keto enlightenment where you’re never tempted, never distracted, never emotional, never busy and never make another decision you regret.

The goal is to become good at noticing when things have moved out of place.

And then putting them back.

Preferably before the whole house is upside down.

Do a Five-Minute Priority Straightening

You don’t necessarily need another challenge.

You may just need a regular check-in.

Every so often, ask yourself:

Why am I doing this?

What are my top three priorities right now?

Does the way I’m eating support those priorities?

What has quietly crept back in?

What have I made more important than it deserves to be?

What useful habit have I stopped doing?

What am I doing simply because someone online told me I should?

And finally: What is one thing I can put back where it belongs today?

Not ten things.

One.

Maybe tonight you don’t snack after dinner.

Maybe tomorrow you start your meal with protein.

Maybe you stop weighing yourself every morning.

Maybe you pack food before leaving the house.

Maybe you stop buying the food you keep telling yourself you “should be able to control.”

Maybe you simply eat a normal keto meal instead of trying to compensate for yesterday.

Put one thing away.

Then another.

A Lived-In Life Is Going to Get Messy

A perfectly clean house usually doesn’t stay perfectly clean when people are actually living in it.

Neither does a perfectly organized eating plan.

We’re going to have birthdays.

Vacations.

Stressful weeks.

Holidays.

Celebrations.

Disappointments.

Unexpected expenses.

Sleepless nights.

Family emergencies.

Tuesday afternoons when everything simply goes sideways.

The answer isn’t constructing a lifestyle so rigid that nothing can ever disturb it.

The answer is learning how to straighten it when something does.

That’s sustainability.

Maybe success isn’t never getting off course.

Maybe success is noticing sooner.

Maybe years ago it took you six months to realize things had gotten out of place.

Then it became a month.

Then a week.

Eventually you notice it at the next meal.

That’s progress.

You Don’t Need a New House

When your priorities get messy, your first instinct may be to throw everything away and find another plan.

Maybe carnivore will fix it.

Maybe fasting will fix it.

Maybe a new macro calculator will fix it.

Maybe a challenge will fix it.

Maybe a supplement will fix it.

And sometimes changing your approach genuinely makes sense.

But before you renovate the entire house, look around.

Does the house actually need rebuilding?

Or does it just need straightening?

Because the fundamentals probably haven’t stopped working.

Eat real food.

Prioritize protein.

Keep carbohydrates where they work for you.

Eat when you’re hungry.

Learn what foods cause you problems.

Stop when you’ve had enough.

Move your body.

Sleep.

Drink water.

Pay attention to how you feel.

Live your life.

And periodically look around and put things back where they belong.

You will never straighten your priorities once and be finished.

Because priorities aren’t something we set.

They’re something we maintain.

So if things feel a little messy right now, don’t burn down the house.

Pick something up.

Put it back where it belongs.

Then keep living.

You know what that means.

Apparently, EVERYTHING MUST NOW TASTE LIKE A PUMPKIN.

Coffee? Pumpkin.

Muffins? Pumpkin.

Cookies? Pumpkin.

Protein bars? Pumpkin.

Cereal? Pumpkin.

Creamer? Pumpkin.

Something that has absolutely no business being anywhere near a pumpkin? PUMPKIN.

Walk into a grocery store in September and you’d think America had just discovered pumpkins.

And if you’re keto, there’s an additional phenomenon that happens every fall.

We don’t just see the pumpkin spice stuff.

We immediately start trying to figure out: “HOW CAN I KETO-FY THAT?”

Friends, we’ve been doing keto long enough to know something: Give the keto community almond flour, cream cheese, a sugar substitute, and access to Pinterest, and we will find a way to recreate absolutely anything.

The question is no longer whether we can.

The question is whether some of this stuff is actually worth the trouble.

Let’s Get One Thing Straight: I Am NOT the Keto Fun Police

If you came here expecting me to tell you to eat ribeye, drink black coffee, and stare angrily at anyone holding a pumpkin muffin, you’re going to be disappointed.

I like fun food.

I like seasonal food.

And I definitely like finding ways to enjoy something without feeling like garbage afterward.

There are some things that are 100% worth keto-fying.

Pumpkin cheesecake? Absolutely.

Pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving? I’m listening.

Pumpkin spice coffee without dumping a day’s worth of sugar into your cup? Yes.

Keto Chow pumpkin ice cream in the CREAMi?You don’t have to ask me twice.

If it’s something you genuinely enjoy, it fits into your life, and having a keto version helps you stay consistent without feeling deprived, I think that’s fantastic.

That’s what keto alternatives are supposed to be.

Tools.

But somewhere along the way, we got really good at turning tools into hobbies.

And occasionally hobbies into full-time jobs.

Did You Even Like This Food Before Keto?

This is where things get funny.

Every September, some new pumpkin spice product shows up.

And suddenly we need a keto version.

But I have a question. Did you even eat that before keto?

Were you sitting around in 2015 saying: “Joe, fall just isn’t fall without pumpkin spice granola clusters”?

Probably not.

But now someone posts a keto version on Instagram and suddenly we’re ordering six ingredients from Amazon.

I’ve learned to ask myself: Do I actually want this—or did somebody just remind me that I’m supposed to want it?

Because those aren’t the same thing.

Food companies are very good at creating urgency around food.

LIMITED TIME!

SEASONAL!

ONLY AVAILABLE THIS FALL!

GET IT BEFORE IT’S GONE!

And our brains immediately hear: YOU ARE ABOUT TO MISS SOMETHING IMPORTANT.

Meanwhile, it’s a cookie.

Sometimes We Keto-Fy the Food but Not the Behavior

This is the part I think deserves more attention.

You can replace the sugar.

You can replace the flour.

You can replace the ingredients.

But sometimes we’re still practicing the exact same behavior.

Before keto: “I saw seasonal cookies at the store, so I bought them.”

After keto: “I saw seasonal cookies at the store, so I went home and spent three hours making a keto version.”

Technically, we changed the food.

But did we change our relationship with food?

That’s worth thinking about.

Because for me, one of the most valuable things about eating this way isn’t discovering that I can make a keto version of practically anything.

It’s discovering: I don’t need everything anymore.

I can see food without eating it.

I can smell something without buying it.

I can watch someone else enjoy something without needing my own version.

I can walk past a seasonal display and think: “That looks good.” And keep walking.

That might not make an impressive Instagram Reel.

But it’s incredibly useful.

Welcome to the $47 Keto Muffin

You know this recipe.

“Easy Keto Pumpkin Muffins!”

Easy?

Okay.

Let’s look at the ingredients.

Almond flour.

Coconut flour.

Powdered sweetener.

Granulated sweetener.

Pumpkin puree.

Pumpkin pie spice.

Cream cheese.

Heavy cream.

Sugar-free chocolate chips.

Xanthan gum.

And some mysterious ingredient available exclusively from a monastery in northern Sweden.

Now we’ve spent $47.

The kitchen looks like a crime scene.

We’ve used nine bowls.

And after 90 minutes of work…WE HAVE SIX MUFFINS.

And one of them somehow tastes like a kitchen sponge.

If baking is your hobby, HAVE FUN.

There is nothing wrong with that.

But if you’re tired, hungry, overwhelmed, and just trying to stay consistent with keto?

You know what’s easier than a pumpkin spice keto muffin? A cheeseburger.

Sometimes useful wins.

Ask What Job the Food Is Doing

This is the question I wish I had asked more often throughout my weight-loss journey. What job is this food doing?

Is it part of a family tradition?

Is it something I genuinely love?

Will making a keto version help me navigate Thanksgiving without feeling deprived?

Will my grandkids enjoy making it with me?

Does it make this lifestyle easier to maintain?

Great.

Keto-fy the heck out of it.

But what if the answer is: “Because it’s September.”

“Because everybody else is making it.”

“Because Costco put it on an endcap.”

“Because Instagram showed it to me 37 times.”

“Because I’m afraid I’m missing out.”

That’s different.

Maybe we don’t actually want the food.

Maybe we’re just responding to the cue.

And those are the moments where I think it’s worth stopping and asking: Is this useful—or is this just seasonal advertising?

Keto Doesn’t Have to Recreate the Standard American Diet

This may be an unpopular opinion.

I don’t think the ultimate goal of keto should be figuring out how to recreate every single food we used to eat.

Keto cereal.

Keto bread.

Keto cookies.

Keto brownies.

Keto chips.

Keto candy.

Keto donuts.

Keto cinnamon rolls.

Keto pumpkin spice whatever.

Again, none of these foods are automatically “bad.”

That’s not the point.

The point is: If we need keto versions of everything we used to eat in order to be happy, did we actually build a new lifestyle—or did we just remodel the old one?

That’s a question only you can answer.

And your answer might change over time.

Something that was incredibly useful during year one of keto might not be useful anymore.

That’s okay.

We’re allowed to grow.

There Is Always Another Food Holiday Coming

This is another thing nobody tells you.

September: pumpkin spice.

October: Halloween candy.

November: Thanksgiving.

December: Christmas cookies.

January: “I need to get back on track.”

February: Valentine’s candy.

March: Easter candy starts appearing approximately 11 minutes after Valentine’s Day.

Summer: ice cream, cookouts, vacations.

Then suddenly…PUMPKIN SPICE IS BACK.

There is no magical part of the calendar where society stops trying to feed us.

If your strategy requires the world to stop offering tempting food, you’re going to be waiting a very long time.

Eventually we have to develop another skill: Being around food without needing to participate in all of it.

That’s freedom.

You Can Celebrate Fall Without Eating Fall

This sounds ridiculously obvious when you say it out loud.

But sometimes we need the reminder.

Fall is not a flavor.

You can enjoy football without eating for the entire game.

You can go to a pumpkin patch without consuming a pumpkin.

You can light the pumpkin spice candle.

You can decorate the porch.

You can watch the leaves change.

Or, if you’re in Florida like us, you can watch the palm trees remain exactly the same while sweating through your fall outfit.

You can enjoy September without turning every meal into a seasonal event.

And yes…You can also make pumpkin cheesecake.

Because this isn’t about restriction.

It’s about intention.

So What IS Worth Keto-Fying?

My rule has become pretty simple.

Keto-fy the foods that make your keto life easier, happier, or more sustainable.

Keep the traditions that matter.

Make the dessert you truly love.

Find an alternative that helps you navigate a difficult situation.

Enjoy seasonal flavors because you genuinely enjoy them.

But don’t feel obligated to recreate every food the internet tells you you’re missing.

You aren’t missing anything.

And you definitely don’t need a 14-ingredient muffin just because the calendar says September.

Maybe This Is What Food Freedom Looks Like

When we first start keto, freedom can feel like discovering substitutes.

“Wait! I can still have pizza?”

“I can make ice cream?”

“There’s keto bread?”

That’s exciting.

And sometimes those alternatives are exactly what we need.

But I think there’s another kind of freedom that can come later.

It’s being able to say: “I could make a keto version…but I don’t really care.”

That’s huge.

Not because you’ve become more disciplined.

Not because you’re doing “better keto.”

But because food doesn’t have quite as much power over your attention anymore.

So this pumpkin spice season, enjoy the things you actually enjoy.

Make the pumpkin cheesecake.

Put cinnamon in your coffee.

Make the pumpkin ice cream.

And if someone announces they’ve created a keto pumpkin spice maple pecan caramel cinnamon-roll breakfast cookie…

You are allowed to say: “That sounds delicious.”And then go fry some bacon.

Because the goal isn’t to become better at keto-fying everything.

The goal is to build a life where we don’t feel like we need everything in the first place.

And sometimes the most freeing keto recipe…is the one you don’t bother making.

Think about it.

How many times have you said some version of this?

“I’m exhausted.”

“My back hurts.”

“I’m getting old.”

“I can’t lose weight anymore.”

“My metabolism is shot.”

“I have no energy.”

“I’m hungry all the time.”

“My blood sugar is terrible.”

“I can’t control myself around that food.”

“I’ve gained so much weight.”

“I’m sick.”

And then tomorrow we wake up and rehearse the same lines again.

And again.

And again.

Sometimes we’ve said these things for so long that we don’t even realize we’re saying them anymore.

They’ve just become part of the story we tell about ourselves.

A story that needs a new chapter.

“I’m Sick” or “I’m Getting Well”

Imagine two people dealing with the exact same health problem.

One says: “I’m sick.”

The other says: “I’m getting well.”

Neither person is denying reality.

Neither person is claiming to be magically cured.

They may have the exact same diagnosis.

The exact same symptoms.

The exact same lab results.

The exact same amount of weight to lose.

But they’re describing two completely different directions.

“I’m sick” describes what I have.

“I’m getting well” describes what I want.

And that’s the idea.

Say what you want, not what you got.

How Often Do We Need to Announce the Problem?

This is what I’ve been asking myself.

Because obviously we need to acknowledge problems.

If you’re having a health issue, ignoring it isn’t going to help.

If you’ve gained 30 pounds, pretending your pants shrank isn’t particularly useful.

If your blood sugar is going in the wrong direction, you probably need to know that.

If you’ve slowly let old habits creep back into your life, you need to be willing to recognize it.

But once we’ve identified the problem…how many times do we need to announce it?

At some point, repeating the problem stops being useful information.

It just becomes rehearsal.

“I can’t lose weight.”

“My knees are shot.”

“I have no energy.”

“I can’t stop eating at night.”

“I can’t give up bread.”

“I always regain.”

“I’ve tried everything.”

Okay.

We heard the problem.

Now what do you want?

That’s a completely different conversation.

We Have Been Practicing These Lines for Years

A lot of us didn’t find keto or carnivore because everything was going great.

We came looking for something.

Maybe we wanted to lose weight.

Maybe we wanted better blood sugar.

Maybe we were tired of being tired.

Maybe we wanted to get off the diet roller coaster.

Maybe we wanted to walk up a flight of stairs without feeling like we’d just completed an Olympic event.

Maybe we wanted to bend over and tie our shoes without needing a recovery period afterward.

Maybe we simply wanted to feel comfortable in our own body again.

Whatever brought you here, there’s a good chance you arrived carrying years of stories about yourself.

“I’ve always been overweight.”

“Everyone in my family is diabetic.”

“I have a terrible metabolism.”

“I hate exercise.”

“I have no willpower.”

“I’ve always had a sweet tooth.”

“I always regain.”

“I could never give up _____.”

Maybe those statements accurately describe your past.

But there’s something we need to remember: Your history is a record, not a prophecy.

Be Careful With “Always”

This is one word I’m trying to pay more attention to.

Always.

“I always quit.”

“I always regain.”

“I always mess things up.”

“I always eat when I’m stressed.”

“I always fall apart on vacation.”

“I always gain weight during the holidays.”

Every time we say always, we’re taking something that happened in the past and quietly giving it permission to continue.

So try adding two words: Until now.

I always gave up when the scale stopped moving.

Until now.

I always let one off-plan meal turn into an off-plan weekend.

Until now.

I always ate when I was stressed.

Until now.

I always believed I couldn’t live without sugar.

Until now.

I always treated hunger like something that needed to be fixed immediately.

Until now.

Maybe you’ve done something 1,000 times.

That doesn’t mean you have to do it 1,001.

Keto Didn’t Automatically Change Our Thinking

Here’s something I think our community needs to acknowledge.

You can change everything you’re eating without changing the way you think.

We can take all of the anxiety we had on our old diets and simply keto-fy it.

We used to obsess over calories.

Now we can obsess over ketones.

We used to panic because we ate too much.

Now we panic because the glucose meter showed a number we didn’t like.

We used to say: “I blew my diet.”

Now we say: “I got kicked out of ketosis.”

Then out come the meters.

The apps.

The scale.

The macro calculator.

The ingredient investigation.

Before long, the fact that you ate three extra carbs has turned into an episode of CSI: Ketosis.

And underneath all of it is the same old voice: “I screwed up.”

Maybe a better question is: “What am I doing next?”

Because you can’t change what you ate three hours ago.

But you have complete control over your next decision.

The Scale Gave You a Number

This is one of the easiest places to see what I’m talking about.

You step on the scale.

You’re up four pounds.

What did the scale tell you?

You’re four pounds heavier than the last time you weighed yourself.

That’s all.

But watch how quickly we add to it.

“Here we go again.”

“I knew this would happen.”

“I’m gaining everything back.”

“My metabolism is ruined.”

“Keto isn’t working anymore.”

“I’ll never get this weight off.”

“Why do I even bother?”

The scale gave you a number. You gave it a storyline.

Maybe you’re retaining water.

Maybe you ate more carbohydrates.

Maybe you haven’t gone to the bathroom.

Maybe you haven’t slept well.

Or maybe you’ve genuinely gained some body fat.

Okay.

That’s information.

Use it.

Make an adjustment if you need to.

But don’t turn one piece of information into a prediction about the rest of your life.

Data tells you where you are. It doesn’t tell you where you’re going.

Stop Turning Behaviors Into Identities

There’s another phrase worth listening for:

“I am.”

I am lazy.

I am weak.

I am addicted.

I am unhealthy.

I am terrible at this.

I am a stress eater.

I am a failure.

Those aren’t descriptions of something you did.

They’re statements about who you believe you are.

What if you changed them?

“I have no self-control” becomes: “I’m learning self-control.”

“I can’t stop eating sugar” becomes: “I’m learning that I don’t need sugar.”

“I’m weak” becomes: “I’m getting stronger.”

“I’m unhealthy” becomes: “I’m getting healthier.”

“I can’t stick to anything” becomes: “I’m learning consistency.”

“I failed again” becomes: “I’m not finished.”

Notice what we’re NOT saying.

We’re not saying:

“I’m perfectly healthy.”

“I never struggle.”

“I have incredible willpower.”

“I’ve solved everything.”

We’re simply changing the direction of the sentence.

Speak in the Direction You’re Going

Maybe you aren’t healthy yet.

But you’re getting healthier.

Maybe you aren’t strong.

But you’re getting stronger.

Maybe your blood sugar isn’t where you want it.

But you’re working to improve it.

Maybe you aren’t at your goal weight.

But you’re moving toward it.

Maybe your relationship with food still needs work.

But you’re learning.

Maybe yesterday was a disaster.

But today you’re choosing differently.

That’s not pretending.

That’s direction.

And direction matters.

Then Give the Words Evidence

Here’s where this can go wrong.

You can’t say: “I’m getting healthier!” while doing absolutely nothing to become healthier.

That’s not what we’re talking about.

The words need action behind them.

Say: “I’m getting healthier.”

Then make your next meal support that statement.

Say: “I’m getting stronger.”

Then do something today that challenges your body.

Say: “I’m learning to control my cravings.”

Then practice letting a craving exist without immediately obeying it.

Say: “One bad meal doesn’t derail me.”

Then prove it by making the next meal a good one.

Say: “I’m becoming someone who follows through.”

Then follow through on one small thing today.

That’s where this becomes powerful.

Because now your actions start giving your words evidence.

And eventually you don’t have to convince yourself you’re becoming that person.

You’ve got receipts.

What Are You Rehearsing?

For the next few days, pay attention to your own words.

Not everyone else’s.

Yours.

What do you say when you step on the scale?

What do you say when you look in the mirror?

What do you say when you’re sore?

What do you say when you’re tired?

What do you say when you’re hungry?

What do you say when your glucose is higher than you expected?

What do you say after eating something you wish you hadn’t?

What do you say when progress feels painfully slow?

Listen for:

“I always…”

“I never…”

“I can’t…”

“I am…”

You might be surprised by how often you rehearse a future you don’t even want.

Say What You Want, Not What You Got

Maybe you are struggling today.

You don’t have to pretend you’re not.

But you also don’t have to make struggling your identity.

Maybe: “I’m sick”

becomes: “I’m getting well.”

Maybe: “I’m out of shape”

becomes: “I’m getting stronger.”

Maybe: “I can’t control my eating”

becomes: “I’m learning how to control my choices.”

Maybe: “I always regain the weight”

becomes: “I’m learning how to maintain.”

Maybe: “I screwed everything up”

becomes: “My next choice still belongs to me.”

Maybe: “I can’t do this”

becomes: “I’m figuring this out.”

And maybe: “I failed”

simply becomes: “I’m not finished.”

Because acknowledging where you are is important.

But you don’t have to keep announcing it like it’s your permanent address.

You’ve rehearsed the problem enough.

Start rehearsing the direction you’re going.

“I need chicken breasts this week.”

“I want ribeyes Saturday.”

“We’re having pork chops Tuesday.”

That’s how most of us have been taught to grocery shop. Make the menu. Make the list. Go buy the ingredients.

But when money is tight, there’s another way to do it: Let the grocery store tell you what’s for dinner.

More specifically, let the grocery store’s loss leaders tell you what’s for dinner.

What Is a Loss Leader?

A loss leader is a product a retailer prices extremely aggressively—sometimes at or below cost—to get you through the door.

The store doesn’t necessarily need to make much money on that package of chicken.

They need you to walk into the store to get it.

Because once you’re there, maybe you also buy paper towels, cheese, coffee, laundry detergent and seventeen other things that weren’t on your list.

That’s where the store wins.

But here’s the fun part: You don’t have to play the second half of that game.

You can walk in, buy the aggressively priced meat you came for, and walk back out.

Even better, buy enough to last until that particular deal comes around again.

Instead of being loyal to a particular cut of meat, become loyal to the price.

Meat Has a Calendar

One of the biggest grocery-budget lessons I’ve learned is that meat prices aren’t completely random.

Supermarkets know what we’re planning to eat.

They know Americans want turkey at Thanksgiving.

They know we want ham at Easter.

They know we’re grilling burgers on July 4th.

They know Dad wants steak for Father’s Day.

And they know millions of people are looking for chicken wings before the Super Bowl.

That creates a surprisingly predictable meat-buying calendar.

Once you recognize it, your freezer becomes one of the best money-saving tools in your house.

January: Pork, Chicken and Winter Roasts

January is a good month to watch pork loin, pork chops, pork shoulder, whole chickens, chicken breasts and inexpensive beef roasts.

As the month progresses, start paying attention to chicken wings as stores prepare for football parties.

Don’t just ask: “What’s on sale?”

Ask: “Is this cheap enough to buy three months’ worth?”

There’s a huge difference.

February: Wings—and Steak

The Super Bowl creates enormous demand for chicken wings, so supermarkets compete hard for that shopper.

Watch wings, ground beef, sausage, hot dogs and other party foods.

Then Valentine’s Day gives us a completely different opportunity.

Suddenly stores are competing for the romantic steak dinner.

Watch for ribeye, New York strip, filet/tenderloin and other premium beef promotions.

If ribeye is something you regularly eat, Valentine’s week isn’t necessarily the week to buy two steaks.

It may be the week to buy twenty.

March: Corned Beef

St. Patrick’s Day brings one of the most predictable annual beef promotions: Corned beef brisket.

And don’t stop watching on March 17.

One of my favorite strategies with holiday meat is checking the store after the holiday.

The store wanted 100 packages of corned beef on March 16.

It may desperately want the remaining 30 gone on March 18.

Holiday clearance can sometimes beat the original loss-leader price.

April: Ham, Ham and More Ham

Around Easter, start watching:

• Spiral ham

• Shank-portion ham

• Butt-portion ham

• Whole ham

• Eggs

• Bacon and breakfast meats

Again, check after Easter.

Ham freezes.

You don’t have to eat six hams in April just because you bought six hams in April.

That’s the entire point.

We’re shopping for Future You.

May: Memorial Day Starts Grilling Season

This is when things start getting fun.

Memorial Day grocery competition can mean excellent promotions on: Ground beef, hamburger patties, hot dogs, chicken thighs, drumsticks, leg quarters, pork ribs, pork butt, sausage, steaks and sometimes brisket.

This is also where changing your mindset matters.

Suppose you planned to buy boneless chicken breasts, but the store is practically giving away chicken thighs.

Eat thighs.

Suppose pork butt is $1.49/lb.

Maybe this isn’t chicken week anymore.

We don’t make the sale fit the menu. We make the menu fit the sale.

June: Buy Dad a Steak—and Buy Yourself 12 More

Father’s Day is steak season.

Watch:

• Ribeye

• New York strip

• T-bone

• Porterhouse

• Sirloin

• Beef tenderloin

You’ll also continue seeing aggressive grilling promotions on ground beef, ribs, pork shoulder and chicken.

This is an especially good time to understand your buy price.

A yellow SALE sign doesn’t mean something is cheap.

You need to know what you normally pay.

If ribeye is usually $14.99/lb in your area and suddenly it’s $7.99, that’s meaningful.

If it’s normally $9.99 and the SALE price is $9.49?

Keep walking.

July: Let Everyone Else’s Cookout Stock Your Freezer

July 4th is another major grocery battle.

Watch for: Ground beef, ribs, hot dogs, chicken, pork butt, sausage, brisket and steaks.

And remember: You don’t need to be hosting a Fourth of July party to take advantage of Fourth of July prices.

The grocery store doesn’t care what you’re doing with those 20 pounds of ground beef.

Take it home.

Divide it.

Vacuum seal it.

Freeze it.

Congratulations. Your October hamburgers just cost July prices.

August: Keep Watching the Grill

Summer promotions continue with chicken, pork, ground beef, hot dogs, sausage and ribs.

Then, toward the end of August, stores begin preparing for Labor Day.

That means another opportunity to replenish whatever you’ve used from your Memorial Day and July 4th stock-ups.

Think of these holidays as freezer checkpoints.

Memorial Day.

July 4.

Labor Day.

You don’t necessarily need enough ground beef in May to last until Christmas.

Maybe you only need enough to get you to July.

September: One Last Big Grilling Push

Labor Day brings another round of aggressive promotions on burgers, steaks, chicken, ribs, pork shoulder, sausage and hot dogs.

Then something interesting happens.

Summer ends.

Stores change seasonal priorities.

So watch for markdowns and clearance on grilling meats immediately after Labor Day.

This is also when I start thinking about fall roasts.

October: Welcome Back, Chuck Roast

Cooler-weather cooking returns.

Start watching chuck roast, pork shoulder, pork loin, whole chickens and ground beef.

And toward the end of the month, start clearing freezer space.

Because the Super Bowl of loss-leader meat shopping is coming.

November: TURKEY

If you want to understand loss leaders, watch what grocery stores do with turkeys around Thanksgiving.

Turkey is one of the classic grocery-store traffic drivers.

Some stores offer incredibly cheap turkeys with a minimum grocery purchase. Others use loyalty programs. Some limit the number you can purchase.

Read the fine print.

But if you have freezer space and your family actually eats turkey, consider buying more than one.

A turkey isn’t just Thanksgiving dinner.

It’s roasted turkey.

Turkey legs.

Turkey breast.

Turkey soup.

Turkey stock.

Turkey salad.

And meat in your freezer that you bought when the supermarket was fighting desperately for your Thanksgiving business.

December: Prime Rib and Ham

Christmas brings another opportunity at the opposite end of the beef spectrum.

Watch standing rib roasts and ribeye roasts.

Also watch:

• Beef tenderloin

• Strip roasts

• Spiral ham

• Whole ham

• Turkey

Here’s another trick: A rib roast can become ribeye steaks.

You don’t necessarily have to roast it whole.

If the roast is dramatically cheaper per pound than the steaks sitting six feet away, you’re paying the butcher department for convenience.

Learn to use a knife.

The Secret Isn’t Buying Cheap Meat

Here’s the part people miss.

Buying cheap meat doesn’t save money if half of it ends up freezer-burned and thrown away.

You need a system.

Know what’s in your freezer.

Label everything.

Date everything.

Put newer meat behind older meat.

Freeze things in portions you’ll actually use.

And periodically shop your freezer before shopping the grocery store.

Your freezer isn’t where food goes to die.

It’s your own personal meat department.

Create Your Own “Buy Price”

Prices vary enormously depending on where you live, so I’m hesitant to tell everyone:

“Never pay more than $X for ground beef.”

Instead, start learning your local prices.

Keep a note in your phone:

Ground beef: normal ___ / good ___ / STOCK UP ___

Chicken thighs: normal ___ / good ___ / STOCK UP ___

Pork butt: normal ___ / good ___ / STOCK UP ___

Ribeye: normal ___ / good ___ / STOCK UP ___

Eggs: normal ___ / good ___ / STOCK UP ___

After a few months, you’ll stop being impressed by the word SALE.

You’ll know when something is actually cheap.

Don’t Be Loyal to One Grocery Store

This might be the biggest mindset shift of all.

I don’t necessarily want the grocery store with the cheapest overall prices.

I want the thing that grocery store is willing to lose money—or make very little money—on this week.

Maybe Publix has the beef.

Winn-Dixie has the chicken.

Aldi has the pork.

Sam’s has the everyday price on something else.

That’s okay.

The goal isn’t to win a loyalty award from a supermarket.

The goal is to feed your family well without unnecessarily emptying your bank account.

Don’t Let the Loss Leader Beat You

Remember why the store put that meat on sale.

They want you inside.

Once you’re there, they hope you’ll say: “Ooooh, toothpaste!”

“I need shampoo.”

“Those tomatoes look good.”

“We’re almost out of paper towels.”

And suddenly the $12 you saved on meat resulted in $63 of purchases you hadn’t planned to make.

So use the loss leader exactly the way the store intended—to get you through the door.

Then turn the strategy around on them.

Buy the meat.

Stock the freezer.

And leave.

Stop Asking, “What Do I Want to Eat?”

Try asking: “What’s cheap right now?”

That’s how generations before us often cooked.

They ate what was abundant.

They preserved what was plentiful.

They stocked up when prices were low.

And they used what they had.

We have something they didn’t have:

Huge freezers, vacuum sealers, grocery apps, digital circulars and the ability to compare five stores without leaving the couch.

Maybe saving money on meat doesn’t require finding some magical cheap source of beef.

Maybe it just requires becoming a little more strategic about when we buy it.

Buy what’s cheap.

Buy enough to matter.

Freeze it.

Eat from the freezer until the next deal comes around.

Then do it all over again.

Not macro math.

Money math.

The kind where you have $80 left until payday and you’re mentally subtracting every item you put into the cart.

The kind where you pick up the package of ground beef, look at the price, and put it back because chicken leg quarters are 99 cents a pound.

The kind where you aren’t comparing grass-fed beef to conventional beef.

You’re trying to figure out if you can afford beef at all.

And I think we’ve forgotten that reality in parts of the low-carb and carnivore world.

Because somewhere along the way, we became incredibly comfortable criticizing what other people eat.

Someone posts a plate with hot dogs.

Those ingredients are terrible.

Someone eats lunch meat.

That’s processed.

Someone eats a lot of pork because it’s considerably cheaper than beef.

You really should prioritize ruminant meat.

Someone buys conventional chicken.

Do you know what those chickens are fed?

Someone finds inexpensive frozen hamburger patties that help them stay on plan.

Have you read the ingredient list?

And I find myself wondering: Do we remember what it’s like when the grocery budget gets the final vote?

Some People Aren’t Shopping for “Optimal”

There are people walking through Walmart right now with a calculator open on their phone.

They’re not searching for the perfect diet.

They’re trying to feed their family until Friday.

Their rent went up.

Their insurance went up.

Their electric bill went up.

Their car needs tires.

Their kid needs something for school.

And somehow the grocery budget is supposed to absorb all of it.

Then they discover low carb and think: Maybe I can do this.

They’re told to eat meat and eggs.

Great.

Except pretty quickly they discover there are apparently a whole bunch of additional rules nobody mentioned.

Eat meat.

But not that meat.

Not the cheap hot dogs.

Not the lunch meat.

Not too much pork.

Not conventional chicken.

Not the inexpensive bacon.

Not those hamburger patties.

Not anything with too many ingredients.

Not anything with a preservative.

Not anything that isn’t grass-fed, pasture-raised, locally sourced or minimally processed.

Suddenly a simple message has become an expensive one.

And the person who was excited about changing their health starts wondering: Maybe I can’t afford to eat this way.

That’s a terrible outcome.

Is It Actually Concern?

Sometimes, yes.

Most people aren’t intentionally trying to make someone feel bad.

We’ve learned things about ingredients and food quality, and naturally we want to share what we’ve learned.

There are hot dogs with better ingredient lists than others.

There are lunch meats without added sugar.

There are differences in how animals are raised.

There may be perfectly legitimate reasons why someone personally chooses one product over another.

We should be able to talk about those things.

But there’s a difference between giving someone information and grading their grocery cart.

Concern says: “If it’s within your budget, here’s another brand you might want to look at.”

Judgment says: “I would never put that garbage in my body.”

Concern gives someone another option.

Judgment makes sure everyone knows you would never stoop to their option.

That’s not education.

That’s status.

And social media makes it incredibly easy to do because we’re looking at a picture of someone’s dinner without seeing any of the circumstances surrounding it.

We don’t know their income.

We don’t know how many people they’re feeding.

We don’t know whether their spouse lost a job.

We don’t know whether they’re caring for an aging parent.

We don’t know whether that package of hot dogs was buy-one-get-one-free and made the difference between staying within their grocery budget and not.

We don’t know what they were eating six months ago.

We just know we wouldn’t eat it.

And for some reason, we feel compelled to tell them.

When Did Food Quality Become a Moral Hierarchy?

There’s something else happening that I think is worth examining.

Food quality has gradually become a kind of hierarchy.

Grass-fed beef is better than conventional beef.

Beef is better than pork.

Fresh meat is better than processed meat.

Pasture-raised eggs are better than conventional eggs.

Three ingredients are better than seven.

And without realizing it, “better food” can turn into “better keto.”

Then “better keto” can start sounding suspiciously like: I’m doing this better than you.

That’s where I have a problem.

Because someone eating $4-a-pound meat isn’t less committed to their health than someone eating $20-a-pound meat.

They may simply have less money.

The person eating hot dogs might actually be making the more difficult choice.

You see a cheap hot dog.

They see something they can afford that keeps them from ordering the pizza their family used to eat three nights a week.

Those are two very different perspectives.

We’re Often Comparing Their Dinner to Something They Were Never Going to Buy

This may be the biggest flaw in the entire conversation about “clean” ingredients.

We compare someone’s actual food to a theoretically perfect alternative.

Of course a grass-fed ribeye sounds better than a cheap hot dog.

But what if the ribeye was never an option?

Then it’s an irrelevant comparison.

The real comparison might be:

Hot dogs versus frozen pizza.

Chicken thighs versus boxed mac and cheese.

Lunch meat and cheese versus vending-machine food at work.

Pork shoulder versus abandoning carnivore because beef is too expensive.

Conventional eggs versus sugary cereal.

Frozen hamburger patties versus ramen noodles.

That’s the comparison that matters.

Because health decisions don’t happen in a vacuum.

They happen inside real lives with real budgets, real jobs, real families and real limitations.

The question isn’t always:

“What’s the absolute best thing I could possibly eat?”

Sometimes it’s:

“What’s the best decision I can realistically make today?”

Those are not the same question.

Sometimes We Need Our Extra Effort to Matter

There’s another uncomfortable possibility.

Sometimes another person’s success challenges the rules we’ve built for ourselves.

If I spend significantly more money on my food…

If I drive across town to get particular ingredients…

If I’ve eliminated dozens of things…

If I’ve built increasingly strict rules around what qualifies as “clean”…

…and then I watch someone else lose 100 pounds eating grocery-store hamburger patties, conventional eggs and the occasional hot dog?

That can be uncomfortable.

Because it raises a question: What if some of the things I consider necessary aren’t actually necessary for everyone?

And rather than considering that possibility, sometimes we qualify the other person’s success.

Sure, she lost the weight, but look at what she’s eating.

Sure, his blood sugar improved, but that’s conventional beef.

Sure, she’s maintained for years, but she eats processed meat.

The qualifier allows us to preserve the hierarchy.

Our way is still the better way.

Maybe some of those choices really do offer advantages.

But there’s an enormous difference between saying something is better and saying it is necessary.

We need to stop confusing the two.

Good, Better, Best — and What I Can Afford

Nutrition conversations would be so much healthier if we left room for this.

There can be good choices.

There can be better choices.

There can even be what we consider the best choice.

And then there is another category that deserves just as much respect: What I can afford right now.

Maybe you would prefer the hot dog with the cleaner ingredient list.

Great.

But if it’s $7.99 and another package is $2.99, that five-dollar difference may matter enormously to somebody else.

Maybe you’d rather buy grass-fed ground beef.

Wonderful.

Someone else might need to buy conventional ground beef because they’re feeding four people instead of two.

Maybe beef is your preferred meat.

Someone else may have discovered that pork shoulder, chicken thighs and eggs allow them to eat low carb for half the price.

That’s not failure.

That’s resourcefulness.

Don’t Confuse Optimization With the Starting Line

This is where I think we’ve made a huge mistake in the health world.

We’ve taken things that might help someone optimize their diet and turned them into prerequisites for beginning one.

Those aren’t the same thing.

Maybe someday the person eating the cheapest hot dogs wants to look for a brand with fewer fillers.

Great.

Maybe when their financial situation improves, they decide to buy more beef.

Wonderful.

Maybe eventually they want to source meat from a local farmer.

Fantastic.

But none of those things need to happen before they are allowed to start improving their diet.

You don’t begin at optimization.

You begin where you are.

With the money you have.

With the stores you have access to.

With the family you’re feeding.

With the time you have available.

Then you improve things when and where it makes sense.

That’s sustainable.

We Need More Grace in the Grocery Aisle

Before we point out everything that could be better, maybe we should remember that better has to be attainable before it can be useful.

The goal shouldn’t be to make people ashamed of what they can afford.

The goal should be to help them make the best choices they can within the life they’re actually living.

Because the perfect food you can’t afford doesn’t help you.

The perfect plan you can’t sustain doesn’t help you.

And the perfect standard that makes you give up certainly doesn’t help you.

Sometimes the biggest victory isn’t buying the cleanest food in the store.

Sometimes the victory is walking out with food you can afford that helps you keep going.

And maybe instead of criticizing that, we should celebrate it.

We color the gray. Buy the creams. Squint at ourselves in the mirror and wonder when that wrinkle showed up. We complain about our knees, joke about needing reading glasses, and act personally offended when the music we listened to in high school is suddenly playing in the grocery store.

Somewhere along the way, aging became something we were supposed to fight.

But last night, I was reminded of something: Aging is a privilege.

And I don’t mean that in the inspirational-quote-on-a-coffee-mug kind of way.

I mean it in the very real sense that getting older allows you to experience things that younger you couldn’t even imagine.

Last night, my high school friend Beth and her husband Noel watched their son Casey marry Greta.

And I got to be there.

How Did We Get Here?

There is something wonderfully strange about looking across a wedding reception at someone you knew in high school.

Because for just a second, you can see both versions of them.

You see the person sitting there today, watching her grown son get married.

But somewhere underneath, you can still see the teenager you knew all those years ago.

And you think:

How in the world did we get from there to here?

When you’re young, you think life is about all the big things you’re going to do someday.

You don’t realize that one of the greatest gifts will simply be getting enough somedays.

Enough years to watch your friends build lives.

Enough years to meet their children.

Enough years to watch those children grow up.

Enough years to sit at their weddings.

Enough years to look at an old friend across the room and realize you’ve known each other through completely different versions of yourselves.

That’s pretty incredible when you stop and think about it.

We Talk About the Wrong Part of Aging

Most conversations about aging focus on what we’re losing.

Our skin isn’t as tight.

Our hair isn’t the same color.

Our metabolism has apparently filed for retirement.

Things hurt for reasons we cannot explain.

We make noises getting out of chairs that we definitely did not make at 25.

And yes, there are hard things about getting older.

But there are also things you can only receive by getting older.

History is one of them.

You can’t manufacture a lifelong friendship.

You can’t order 30 years of memories on Amazon.

You can’t fast-forward through life and somehow arrive with decades of shared experiences.

Those things have to be lived.

Year by year.

Birthday by birthday.

Ordinary Tuesday by ordinary Tuesday.

And eventually you find yourself standing at the wedding of a child you remember when he wasn’t a grown man at all.

Suddenly those years don’t feel like something that happened to you.

They feel like something you were given.

Maybe Another Birthday Isn’t Bad News

We’ve developed such a strange relationship with birthdays.

At a certain age, people stop announcing the number.

“I’m 39 again!”

We joke about turning 29 for the twentieth time.

But I’m beginning to think we’ve got it backward.

Another birthday means you got another year.

Another Christmas.

Another summer.

Another dinner with friends.

Another chance to laugh until your stomach hurts.

Another wedding.

Another baby.

Another ordinary morning with someone you love.

Another opportunity to see what happens next.

Not everyone gets that.

And that realization doesn’t make aging depressing.

It makes aging valuable.

Health Changes the Way You See It, Too

There was another part of last night that didn’t escape me.

I wasn’t simply grateful to be alive to see it.

I was grateful to be well enough to enjoy it.

There’s a difference.

To be able to get dressed up.

To go celebrate.

To laugh.

To stay out later than usual.

To participate instead of watching life from the sidelines.

There was a time when I thought getting healthier was primarily about changing what I saw in the mirror.

Now I understand that the real reward was never a smaller clothing size.

It was buying back participation in my own life.

Health doesn’t guarantee us more years. Nothing does.

But being able to actually live the years we’re given?

That’s worth far more than looking younger while we do it.

You Get to Stay for More of the Story

I think that’s what I loved most about last night.

It wasn’t only a wedding.

It was perspective.

Beth and I were once high school girls who couldn’t possibly have known where life would take us.

Now I get to watch her and Noel celebrate their son’s marriage.

Casey and Greta are standing at the beginning of their own story together, looking toward a future they can’t possibly predict either.

And those of us with a few more years behind us know something they can’t fully understand yet: The ordinary years become extraordinary when you get enough of them.

One day, the people sitting beside you now become the people who remember who you used to be.

The babies become adults.

The friendships collect decades.

The photographs become treasures.

And the things you once thought made you “old” start looking a whole lot more like evidence that you were fortunate enough to keep going.

So maybe I’ll complain a little less about the next wrinkle.

Maybe I’ll be a little more grateful for the next birthday.

Because I don’t actually want to go backward.

There are too many things ahead that I still want to see.

More weddings.

More babies.

More celebrations.

More ridiculous conversations with old friends.

More ordinary days that we won’t realize were special until much later.

Last night, I watched Casey marry Greta and looked at my friend Beth and thought about just how many years had to happen for us to arrive at that moment.

And I’m grateful for every one of them.

Growing older isn’t just accumulating years.

It’s getting to stay for more of the story.

And what a privilege it is to still be here to see what happens next.

You learned how not to eat.

We grew up in an era when dieting wasn’t something you quietly did for a few weeks. It was practically a hobby. Our mothers dieted. Our friends dieted. The women on television dieted. The magazines at the grocery-store checkout told us we should probably be dieting too.

And some of the things we learned were absolutely bonkers.

We drank powdered chocolate water and called it breakfast.

We ate a frozen entrée the size of a deck of cards and pretended we were satisfied.

We sprayed fake butter on air-popped popcorn and congratulated ourselves for finding a loophole.

We ate fat-free cookies because apparently eating twelve cookies with no fat was healthier than eating three real ones.

And then, decades later, some of us found keto or carnivore and discovered something surprising: The hardest part wasn’t giving up carbohydrates.

It was giving up all the diet rules we’d been carrying around since 1987.

Remember When Breakfast Was a Beverage?

SlimFast deserves its own chapter in the Gen X Diet Hall of Fame.

“Shake for breakfast, shake for lunch, then a sensible dinner.”

At the time, that sounded completely reasonable. (Probably because we had already been drinking Carnation instant breakfast as a meal since Kindergarten.)

Think about what we were actually practicing, though.

Ignore hunger.

Replace meals with something engineered to have fewer calories.

Make it until dinner.

Then try desperately not to lose control when actual food finally appears.

We became very good at overriding our bodies.

Hungry at 10:30? Too bad. Lunch isn’t until noon.

Still hungry after your tiny lunch? Drink some water.

Starving at 4:00? Have some gum.

And if you eventually found yourself standing in the kitchen eating crackers directly from the sleeve?

Well, obviously you lacked willpower.

It rarely occurred to us that maybe we were just hungry.

The SnackWell’s Era Was Truly Something

Then came the fat-free revolution.

Fat was the enemy.

Butter? Bad.

Egg yolks? Questionable.

Red meat? Basically a coronary with grill marks.

But a box of fat-free cookies?

Come on in!

If you were there, you remember SnackWell’s.

You remember fat-free yogurt loaded with sweetness.

You remember margarine.

Rice cakes.

Pretzels.

Fat-free salad dressing.

Air-popped popcorn.

And possibly one of the strangest inventions of our generation: butter-flavored spray.

We were afraid to put a pat of butter on our hot canned green beans, but perfectly comfortable dousing them with something that claimed each serving had zero calories.

And yes, we all understood eventually that if you sprayed it long enough, mathematics was going to catch up with you.

Then There Were the 100-Calorie Packs

Who remembers these?

Cookies were apparently dangerous when they came in a normal package.

But put six tiny cookies into a little plastic pouch and suddenly we had mastered nutrition.

The entire philosophy was: You can eat this. Just not very much of it.

So we’d eat our little packet.

Still be hungry.

Drink a Diet Coke.

Chew some gum.

Try to distract ourselves.

And spend the next two hours thinking about food.

We called that discipline.

Looking back, I think a lot of us were simply learning how to make hunger a normal part of everyday life.

We Became Professional Food Negotiators

Gen X dieting taught us an elaborate system of food accounting.

If I eat this now, I can’t eat that later.

If we’re going out tonight, I should skip lunch.

If I ate too much yesterday, I need to eat less today.

If I want dessert, I should order the salad.

If I exercise, I earn more food.

If I don’t exercise, I should eat less.

If I’m really hungry, coffee might make it disappear.

And perhaps the most familiar one: I’ll be good tomorrow.

Food stopped being food.

It became a negotiation.

Every bite had consequences.

Every indulgence created a debt that needed to be repaid.

And Don’t Forget the Scale

Some of us learned another powerful lesson: The scale gets the final vote.

You could feel fantastic.

Your clothes could fit better.

You could have more energy.

You could be stronger.

But if the scale went up two pounds?

EMERGENCY MEETING.

What did I eat?

Was it the salt?

Did I eat too late?

Should I skip breakfast?

Should I cut calories?

Should I add cardio?

We became trained to respond to normal fluctuations with immediate correction.

And that conditioning doesn’t magically disappear because you start eating keto.

In fact, this is where things get interesting.

Keto Comes Along and Says, “Eat the Steak.”

Excuse me?

After decades of:

Choose the smallest portion.

Trim the fat.

Order the chicken breast.

Skip the butter.

Use half the dressing.

Eat before you go to the party.

Drink water to fill your stomach.

Save calories.

Never waste calories.

Keto suddenly says: Eat real food.

Have the eggs.

Cook them in butter.

Eat the steak.

Salt your food.

Don’t be terrified of fat.

Eat enough protein.

And if you’re genuinely not hungry? You don’t have to eat just because the clock says noon.

That sounds incredibly simple.

But psychologically?

For someone who spent decades dieting, it can feel almost reckless.

This Is Why Some of Us Struggle to Go “All-In”

People sometimes assume the difficult part of keto is giving up bread, pasta, potatoes and sugar.

Sometimes it is.

But I think there’s another struggle we don’t talk about enough.

Keto may require us to violate the diet rules that made us feel safe for most of our lives.

Put butter on the steak?

That feels dangerous.

Eat three eggs instead of one egg and three egg whites?

Dangerous.

Choose the fatty cut of meat?

Dangerous.

Eat until comfortably full instead of stopping because you’ve reached an arbitrary calorie number?

Really dangerous.

And God forbid the scale goes up tomorrow.

Suddenly that 1994 Weight Watchers voice wakes up inside your head: See? You ate too much.

So we start trying to turn keto into another version of the diets we already know.

Low carb.

Low calorie.

Low fat.

Tiny portions.

Long fasting windows.

Extra exercise.

Skip breakfast.

Maybe skip lunch.

Don’t eat after 6.

And before long, we’re trying to survive on chicken breast, lettuce and determination.

Then we wonder why we’re thinking about food constantly or feel like we need medication to stop thinking about food at all.

We Didn’t Invent This Stuff

This is the part where I think we should have a little compassion for our younger selves.

We didn’t wake up one morning and independently decide that rice cakes were delicious.

We were taught this.

The culture around us celebrated restriction.

Magazine covers promised we’d “drop a dress size” before vacation.

Commercials showed women gleefully eating tiny portions of diet food.

Foods were labeled “guilt-free.”

Think about that phrase: Guilt-free.

Meaning some foods presumably came with guilt included.

We learned to attach morality to eating.

Good foods.

Bad foods.

Good days.

Bad days.

Cheat meals.

Being “good” all week.

Blowing the diet.

Starting over Monday.

That language gets inside your head.

And it can stay there for decades.

Keto Didn’t Create Our Food Issues

This is important because keto sometimes gets blamed for making people “too restrictive.”

And yes, any eating approach can become unhealthy when fear, obsession and punishment take over.

But for many of us, keto didn’t introduce restriction into our lives.

Restriction was already there.

Keto simply walked into a brain that had spent 30 or 40 years collecting diet rules.

That’s why two people can eat exactly the same keto meal and experience it completely differently.

One person sees: Steak, eggs and butter.

Another sees:

Too many calories.

Too much fat.

Too much food.

I shouldn’t be eating this.

I’m going to gain weight.

Maybe I’ll skip dinner.

Same plate. Completely different mental experience.

Maybe Going “All-In” Isn’t About Becoming Stricter

This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot.

When we talk about going all-in on keto or carnivore, it’s easy to imagine that means more rules.

More tracking.

More restriction.

More perfection.

Maybe for some of us, going all-in actually means letting go.

Letting go of the belief that hunger is something to conquer.

Letting go of the idea that eating less always deserves a gold star.

Letting go of the fear of dietary fat.

Letting go of earning food through exercise.

Letting go of compensating tomorrow for what we ate today.

Letting go of turning every scale fluctuation into a five-alarm fire.

And maybe even letting go of the idea that suffering is evidence that a diet is working.

Because that’s another lesson our generation learned very well: If dieting feels miserable, you must be doing it right.

The Rice Cake Didn’t Save Us

Neither did the cabbage soup.

Or the grapefruit.

Or the fat-free cookies.

Or the frozen 220-calorie dinner with three sad pieces of broccoli.

Or the little packets of cookies.

Or skipping meals because dinner was going to be big.

Or drinking coffee instead of eating.

Or chewing gum through hunger.

We spent years searching for ways to eat as little as possible while still functioning.

Maybe it’s not surprising that learning to properly nourish ourselves feels uncomfortable.

Sometimes the Old Diet Voice Still Shows Up

Mine does.

Maybe yours does too.

It says:

That’s a lot of food.

Do you really need that much?

Maybe you should cut back tomorrow.

You’ve been eating too much lately.

You’d lose faster if you just…

And sometimes I have to recognize that voice for what it is.

It’s not necessarily wisdom.

Sometimes it’s just an old cassette tape that’s been playing since the days when we were wearing stirrup pants and slouch socks.

We don’t have to obey every thought simply because we’ve been thinking it for 35 years.

We Can Keep the Lessons and Lose the Baggage

I’m not interested in spending the rest of my life finding new ways to diet harder.

I’ve done that.

Many of us have.

What interests me now is learning how to eat in a way that supports the life I’m trying to live.

That means protein matters.

Nourishment matters.

Hunger matters.

Satiety matters.

How I feel matters.

My metabolic health matters.

And yes, body composition can matter too.

But I don’t want the pursuit of a smaller body to require a smaller life.

That’s a lesson I wish someone had taught our generation when we were younger.

Instead, they gave us rice cakes.

So if you’re Gen X and sometimes find yourself struggling to fully trust keto—even after seeing how much better you feel eating this way—maybe the problem isn’t that you don’t understand keto.

Maybe you’re trying to undo decades of training.

We’re learning something our generation was rarely taught:

Food isn’t something we have to earn.

Hunger isn’t a character flaw.

Eating enough isn’t failure.

And health isn’t measured by how little food we can get away with eating.

Turns out, going all-in might not mean becoming more disciplined.

For some of us, it might mean finally putting down 40 years of diet baggage.

920 PPB OF ARSENIC.

Put it in a graphic. Add a warning. Mention cancer. Talk about contaminated lakebeds. Point out that another product had 29 times less.

And suddenly something you drank yesterday without a second thought sounds like it belongs in a hazmat container.

That’s the problem I have with the recent Lead Safe Mama article about SALTT.

I’m not arguing that the laboratory didn’t detect arsenic.

I’m arguing that detecting something and demonstrating danger are two very different things.

And somewhere between the laboratory report and the dramatic presentation of that number, I think that distinction deserves considerably more attention.

First, What Did the Test Actually Find?

Tamara Rubin reports approximately 920 ppb of total arsenic.

That sounds enormous.

But “ppb” is a concentration. It doesn’t tell you how much arsenic you’re actually consuming until you account for the amount of product being consumed.

A SALTT Clean Slate packet is approximately 4.6 grams.

Do the math and 920 ppb works out to approximately: 4.2 micrograms of total arsenic per packet.

That’s the same laboratory result.

Nothing has been changed.

But somehow 4.2 micrograms per serving doesn’t produce quite the same emotional reaction as 920 PPB OF ARSENIC!

And that is precisely why context matters.

Here’s Another Important Detail: This Wasn’t a Secret

If the impression you’re getting is that an independent investigator uncovered arsenic that SALTT had never disclosed, there’s a problem with that interpretation.

SALTT had already publicly reported arsenic in its products.

Its published testing showed Clean Slate at approximately 3.06 micrograms of total arsenic per serving, with other flavors also showing measurable amounts.

Rubin’s reported result works out to approximately 4.2 micrograms per serving.

Those aren’t identical results. But they aren’t in different universes, either.

Both found measurable total arsenic in the low-single-digit microgram range per serving.

So now we have to decide what that actually means.

And that’s where things get much more complicated than a scary graphic.

There’s Arsenic…and Then There’s ARSENIC

This may be the most important part of the entire discussion.

The test reports total arsenic.

It does not tell us how much is inorganic arsenic.

That’s an important distinction.

According to the FDA, arsenic occurs in both inorganic and organic forms, and inorganic arsenic is generally considered more toxic. That doesn’t mean every organic arsenic compound is harmless, but it does mean the different forms aren’t scientifically interchangeable.

That’s also why some regulatory benchmarks specifically address inorganic arsenic, rather than simply treating every arsenic-containing compound as identical.

For example, the California Proposition 65 arsenic level frequently mentioned in this discussion applies specifically to inorganic arsenic compounds.

But Rubin’s reported measurement is TOTAL arsenic.

Those aren’t interchangeable measurements.

You cannot scientifically transform “4.2 micrograms of total arsenic” into “4.2 micrograms of inorganic arsenic” without speciation testing showing that to be the case.

We don’t currently know how much of that total is inorganic.

And “we don’t know” is a perfectly acceptable scientific answer.

29 TIMES MORE!

This is another phrase guaranteed to get your attention.

SALTT reportedly contained approximately 29 times more arsenic than the next-highest electrolyte Rubin tested.

Let’s assume that comparison is completely accurate.

What does it prove?

It proves SALTT contained substantially more total arsenic than that particular product.

That’s it.

It does not, by itself, establish that the amount in SALTT is dangerous.

If Product A contains 0.1 microgram of something and Product B contains 2.9 micrograms, I can truthfully announce: PRODUCT B HAS 29 TIMES MORE!

But without knowing the level at which the substance poses a meaningful risk, the multiple doesn’t answer the question consumers actually care about.

Relative numbers are wonderful for grabbing attention.

Absolute exposure is considerably more useful for understanding risk.

Then We Get the Great Salt Lake Horror Story

This is where the narrative becomes especially dramatic.

Arsenic.

Contaminated sediment.

Toxic dust.

Environmental concerns surrounding the Great Salt Lake.

Those may all be legitimate environmental issues in their appropriate context.

But there’s a leap between: “Arsenic exists in this environment.”

and: “Therefore this finished product represents a dangerous arsenic exposure.”

Fortunately, we don’t have to speculate about whether measurable arsenic makes it into the finished product.

It does.

We have testing.

One set of testing reports roughly three micrograms of total arsenic per serving. Another reports roughly four.

That information is far more useful for evaluating the product than frightening facts about substances that may exist around its geographic source.

Environmental contamination can absolutely be a reason to test a product.

It isn’t a substitute for evaluating the finished product, the amount consumed, the chemical form of the contaminant, and the resulting exposure.

This Isn’t Tamara Rubin’s First Rodeo

It’s also worth understanding who is presenting this information.

Tamara Rubin isn’t someone who happened to buy an electrolyte packet, became curious about it and sent it to a lab.

Consumer-product testing and advocacy are central to the Lead Safe Mama operation. Rubin has spent years testing products for lead, arsenic and other toxicants and publishing those results.

That doesn’t make her laboratory results false.

In fact, some of her advocacy has raised legitimate issues, and some of her work has preceded actual recalls.

That’s important to acknowledge.

But it should also make us distinguish between the laboratory result and the presentation and interpretation of that result.

Those aren’t necessarily the same thing.

Looking across Lead Safe Mama reports, I see a recurring presentation style: identify a contaminant, emphasize the concentration, compare it with lower-testing products, discuss serious health consequences associated with the contaminant, and prominently identify the product and manufacturer.

Whether intentional or not, that style can make a laboratory detection feel like a demonstrated health risk before the actual exposure question has been resolved.

And that’s exactly why context matters.

Remember the KitchenAid Panic?

Rubin was heavily involved in the controversy over lead in KitchenAid mixer attachments and created a petition calling for a recall.

The controversy eventually became tangled up with a separate false social-media claim that KitchenAid had actually recalled the attachments.

To be clear: Rubin herself did not claim a recall had occurred. She was calling for one. That distinction matters.

But the episode also illustrates something fascinating about internet health scares.

“Someone found lead.”

can quickly become:

“KitchenAid has lead.”

which becomes:

“KitchenAid attachments are dangerous.”

which eventually becomes:

“Weren’t those recalled?”

The original person doesn’t necessarily have to make every claim for the internet to progressively strip away the nuance.

Fear travels much faster than context.

KitchenAid, for its part, has acknowledged that trace amounts of lead can be present in certain aluminum alloys while maintaining that its attachments comply with applicable requirements.

And that brings us right back to the question at the heart of this article: Is the important question simply whether an element can be detected—or whether consumers are meaningfully exposed to it?

Then Came Stanley

Remember the Stanley tumbler panic?

Rubin was one of the people publicizing the fact that Stanley used a lead-containing component in its vacuum-insulation sealing process.

And yes, there really was lead in that component.

That was a legitimate fact.

But the important consumer question wasn’t merely: Does lead exist somewhere in the construction of this cup?

It was: Under normal use, is the consumer actually exposed to that lead?

Those are completely different questions.

In fact, Rubin’s own original testing of an intact Stanley reported no lead in accessible components.

The concern centered on lead-containing material underneath the bottom barrier and what could happen if that barrier became compromised.

That’s an important conversation.

But it’s also a perfect illustration of why hazard and exposure aren’t the same thing.

“LEAD IN STANLEY CUPS” is a much more powerful internet story than a lengthy discussion of manufacturing processes, protective barriers and exposure pathways.

Again, detection can become the story before exposure is fully understood.

Then Toothpaste. Snacks. Supplements. Sunscreen. Candy…

Lead Safe Mama’s testing has expanded far beyond household lead testing.

Rubin has published testing and warnings involving toothpaste and tooth powders, children’s snacks, supplements, cookware, baby products, cosmetics, sunscreens and foods.

More recently she has been involved in a very public dispute involving sunscreen company Sky & Sol.

And there’s another example I find particularly interesting.

When the State of Florida released alarming arsenic results involving certain candies, Rubin herself questioned those results and pursued independent testing because she believed methodology or contamination could potentially explain the numbers.

Think about that.

A government test produced scary arsenic numbers and Rubin essentially applied the brakes: Let’s make sure these numbers actually mean what people think they mean.

GOOD.

That’s exactly what should happen.

Question the methodology.

Replicate the result.

Examine what was actually measured.

Put it into context.

Don’t panic simply because somebody published a frightening number.

That’s the exact same standard consumers should apply to everyone’s reports—including hers.

There’s Nothing Wrong With Being a Watchdog

I actually think consumer watchdogs are important.

Companies shouldn’t get automatic trust simply because we like their products.

If somebody finds something concerning, publish it.

Show us the laboratory report.

Ask questions.

That’s useful.

But consumer-safety advocacy becomes less useful when a detected substance is presented through an alarming lens without equal attention to dose, exposure, chemical form and the appropriate benchmark.

Modern laboratory equipment can detect incredibly tiny quantities of substances.

“Detected” doesn’t mean “poisonous.”

“Contains arsenic” doesn’t tell you the dose.

“29 times higher” doesn’t tell you whether either amount is dangerous.

And “920 ppb” doesn’t magically become more toxic because 920 looks scarier than 4.2.

But Who Paid for This Particular Watchdog Investigation?

There’s another part of Rubin’s own disclosure that deserves scrutiny.

According to her disclosure, the testing and reporting were financially supported by a representative associated with a company developing its own electrolyte powder.

That fact does not invalidate the laboratory result.

It doesn’t prove the laboratory did anything wrong.

And it doesn’t prove that anyone paid for a predetermined conclusion.

But it does create questions about potential commercial conflicts that I think readers are entitled to ask.

If a sponsor has a commercial interest in the same product category being investigated, I want to understand the relationship.

Did the sponsor merely reimburse the laboratory invoice?

Was Lead Safe Mama also compensated for coordinating the testing?

Did the sponsorship cover Rubin’s time?

Administration?

Writing?

Graphics?

Reporting?

Overhead?

What was the total amount of the sponsorship, and what expenses or services did it cover?

Rubin’s own disclosure refers to support for both “testing and reporting,” and she has discussed working with companies in a consulting capacity.

So I think asking what that financial relationship actually looked like is entirely reasonable.

And there’s another question I think is even more important: What came first—the investigation or the sponsorship?

Did Rubin independently decide that SALTT warranted investigation and subsequently seek funding for testing?

Or did a sponsor with a commercial interest in the electrolyte category approach Lead Safe Mama with funding for testing products in that category?

Those are different scenarios.

Neither one automatically makes the laboratory result wrong.

But the distinction matters when evaluating the resulting coverage.

If a sponsor with a potential commercial interest funded not only laboratory testing but some portion of the reporting surrounding competing products, I would want that relationship explained as clearly as possible.

To understand why, imagine a purely hypothetical situation in which Coca-Cola funded an investigative organization to test Pepsi and also helped fund the resulting reporting.

Every laboratory number could be completely accurate.

The financial relationship could even be disclosed.

But wouldn’t you still want to know who chose Pepsi for testing, how the investigation originated, how much Coca-Cola contributed, and exactly what Coca-Cola’s money paid for?

Disclosure is important. But disclosure doesn’t make a potential conflict of interest irrelevant.

So I’d like to know:

Who provided the funding?

Who selected the products for testing?

What was the total amount provided?

What expenses and services did that money cover?

Did the sponsor have any role in deciding which products would be tested?

And what commercial interest does the sponsor have in the electrolyte category?

Those answers matter when evaluating any sponsored consumer investigation.

And Then There’s the “Cleanest” Comment

There’s another statement that stopped me in my tracks.

Rubin describes the sponsor’s developing electrolyte as:

“a cleaner (and possibly the cleanest? Only time will tell!) electrolyte powder.”

Okay.

Then let’s let time—and testing—tell.

Has that product undergone the same independent testing?

Has it been subjected to the same scrutiny?

Have its results been compared against the same standards?

Because calling a future competing product potentially “the cleanest” seems premature if comprehensive testing hasn’t established that yet.

The same rule should apply to everybody: Test first. Characterize later.

SALTT shouldn’t get a pass because people like the company.

But a sponsor’s future product shouldn’t get a halo because it’s funding testing, either.

A Note About What I Am—and Am Not—Saying

Because these discussions can become heated very quickly, I want to make something explicit.

I am not claiming that Tamara Rubin fabricated these laboratory results.

I am not claiming the laboratory testing was fraudulent.

I am not claiming that Rubin was secretly paid to produce a predetermined result.

I have seen no evidence establishing any of those things.

My criticism is about something different.

How are laboratory results contextualized?

How is risk communicated?

Are concentration and actual dose being clearly distinguished?

Are total arsenic and inorganic arsenic being treated appropriately?

And do readers have enough information about sponsorship relationships to evaluate potential conflicts for themselves?

Those are fair questions to ask of SALTT.

They’re fair questions to ask of the sponsor.

And they’re fair questions to ask of Lead Safe Mama.

The Most Interesting Contradiction

Rubin herself publishes lists of products that contain detectable trace amounts of arsenic while acknowledging that those amounts may nevertheless fall within the criteria she uses for identifying safer choices.

That’s important.

Because it acknowledges the very principle I’m talking about: The presence of a substance does not, by itself, establish dangerous exposure.

Exactly. So let’s apply that principle consistently.

Not just when we’re recommending one product.

Not just when we’re criticizing another.

Every time.

And No, This Doesn’t Mean SALTT Gets a Free Pass

This isn’t really about defending SALTT.

It’s about defending context.

If someone produces credible evidence showing that consuming SALTT at normal amounts creates a meaningful health risk, I’ll look at that evidence.

But that’s different from saying: “We detected arsenic.”

We already knew measurable arsenic was present.

And it’s different from saying: “We detected 920 ppb!”

Okay.

At the stated serving size, that’s roughly four micrograms of total arsenic per packet.

And it’s different from saying: “It’s 29 times higher!”

Okay.

Higher than another product doesn’t automatically mean dangerous.

And it’s definitely different from invoking a benchmark for inorganic arsenic while discussing a laboratory measurement of total arsenic without knowing the speciation.

These distinctions matter.

Fear Travels Faster Than Context

Here’s perhaps the most important lesson: You don’t have to say something factually false to leave people with an exaggerated perception of risk.

Accurate facts can be presented without enough context for readers to understand what those facts actually mean.

920 ppb can be accurate.

29 times higher can be accurate.

Arsenic can cause cancer can be accurate.

The Great Salt Lake has environmental arsenic concerns can be accurate.

Put all four together and readers may understandably walk away thinking: “OH MY GOSH. I’M POISONING MYSELF!”

But none of those statements, individually or collectively, establishes by itself that drinking a SALTT packet creates a dangerous arsenic exposure.

That’s the difference between communicating hazard and communicating risk.

And it’s a distinction the internet desperately needs.

The Question I Ask Whenever I See One of These Stories

I’ve learned to stop asking: “Did they find something scary?”

Instead I ask: “What does this mean at the amount I’m actually consuming?”

How much is there?

How much am I exposed to?

What chemical form is it?

What’s the appropriate comparison?

Does the benchmark being cited actually measure the same thing the laboratory measured?

What assumptions are required to get from the laboratory result to the health claim?

And most importantly: Does the evidence demonstrate danger—or merely tell us that something was detected?

Because I don’t want companies deciding what I should believe about their products.

But I don’t want consumer advocates deciding what I should fear without giving me enough context to evaluate the risk for myself, either.

Give me the numbers.

Give me the context.

Give me the science.

Give me the financial disclosures.

And let me decide.

Because sometimes 920 PPB! is the headline.

And about four micrograms of total arsenic per serving is the rest of the story.

“For I know whom I have believed.” — 2 Timothy 1:12

Paul didn’t write those words from a comfortable place.

He had experienced rejection. People had walked away from him. He had been criticized for what he believed and how he lived. He desperately wanted people to understand something that had completely changed his life—and not everyone wanted to hear it.

And yet there were also people he never expected who showed up.

The more I read 2 Timothy 1, the more I thought:

Wow. There is a lot here for those of us who have been in the keto and carnivore community for a long time.

Obviously, keto isn’t the gospel.

What we eat isn’t our faith.

But the human experience Paul describes—change, conviction, criticism, disappointment, perseverance and learning that we cannot force another person to see what we see—is incredibly familiar.

Especially when something has dramatically changed your life.

When Something Changes Your Life, You Want Everyone to Know

If keto helped you lose five pounds before vacation, that’s great.

But when you’ve experienced tremendous change, it’s different.

Maybe you lost 100 pounds.

Maybe you came off medications with your doctor’s supervision.

Maybe your blood sugar normalized.

Maybe you can walk without hurting.

Maybe you stopped thinking about food every waking moment.

Maybe for the first time in decades you feel like you’re actually living instead of merely existing.

When something gives you your life back, you naturally want to grab the people you love and say:

“LOOK! I FOUND SOMETHING THAT HELPED ME!”

And then you learn one of the hardest lessons of this entire journey: Not everyone wants to be helped.

At least not right now.

And that’s painful.

Because you’re standing there thinking:

But I KNOW how you feel.

I was there.

I know how hopeless it feels.

Just let me show you what worked for me.

And sometimes they still don’t want it.

You Can’t Want It More Than They Do

This has probably been one of the hardest lessons for me.

You can give someone information.

You can cook for them.

You can encourage them.

You can answer their questions.

You can tell them your story.

You can send them podcasts, books, studies, recipes and enough YouTube videos to keep them occupied until approximately 2047.

But you cannot make someone change.

And trying harder doesn’t necessarily make them more receptive.

Sometimes it does the opposite.

There’s a point where helping becomes pushing.

And I’ve had to learn that loving someone sometimes means leaving the door open without dragging them through it.

That’s difficult when you’ve experienced something transformative.

You want them to have what you have.

But their journey isn’t yours.

Maybe they’ll never choose it.

Maybe they’ll choose something completely different.

Or maybe five years from now they’ll suddenly remember something you said.

Your job isn’t necessarily to convince them.

Sometimes your job is simply to plant the seed.

And Then the Person You Never Expected Is Listening

Here’s the strange part.

While you’re desperately trying to reach the person standing right in front of you…someone you don’t even know is paying attention.

Someone watches a video we almost didn’t make.

Someone hears something we said casually.

Someone reads a post I wrote when I wondered whether anyone cared.

And six months later we receive a message:

“You changed my life.”

We don’t always get to choose where the seeds grow.

We spend so much time staring at the ground where we planted one particular seed that we can completely miss what’s growing somewhere else.

Maybe the person you desperately want to help isn’t ready.

But somebody else is.

Keep sharing.

Some People Will Walk Away

This part isn’t fun to talk about.

When your life changes dramatically, sometimes your relationships change too.

Some people will cheer for you.

Some people will tolerate it.

Some will think you’ve become weird.

And some people you thought would be standing beside you for the entire journey simply won’t be there anymore.

Sometimes it’s because you’ve changed.

Sometimes they’ve changed.

Sometimes there’s no villain.

Life just moved people in different directions.

But sometimes it genuinely hurts.

Paul understood that.

In 2 Timothy 1, he talks about people who had turned away from him.

Then almost immediately he talks about Onesiphorus—the person who showed up.

That contrast hit me.

Because isn’t that what we tend to do?

Ten people love us.

One person walks away.

And who do we think about at 2:00 in the morning? Number eleven.

We can become so consumed with who left that we fail to appreciate who stayed.

Or even more importantly…who showed up unexpectedly.

“You’re Doing Keto Wrong”

If you’ve been in this community for more than about two minutes, somebody has probably informed you that you’re doing it wrong.

Too much protein.

Not enough protein.

Too much fat.

Not enough fat.

Total carbs.

Net carbs.

Vegetables are necessary.

Vegetables are trying to murder you.

Measure ketones.

Stop measuring ketones.

Track everything.

Never track anything.

Eat when you’re hungry.

Fast for three days.

Don’t fast.

Eat bacon.

Bacon is processed.

Carnivore.

Ketovore.

Clean keto.

Dirty keto.

And somewhere in the comments someone is typing: “Well, actually…

After years of this, I’ve realized something.

We should absolutely remain teachable.

If new evidence shows us that something we believed was wrong, we should be willing to change our minds.

But being teachable doesn’t mean being tossed around by every opinion on the internet.

There comes a point where you have to know your own body.

You have to understand why you’re doing what you’re doing.

You have to look at your results.

And you have to stop allowing someone else’s rules to become your prison.

Stir Up the Gift

Paul tells Timothy: “Stir up the gift of God.”

I love the picture behind that phrase.

It’s like tending a fire.

Anyone who has kept a fire going knows what happens.

At first it’s roaring.

Then eventually the flames die down.

But underneath?

There are still hot coals.

Sometimes they just need to be stirred.

I think that happens in keto too.

The beginning is exciting.

The scale is moving.

You’re learning everything.

You’re cleaning out the pantry.

You’re discovering chaffles and wondering where they have been your entire life.

You’re telling everyone who will listen about insulin.

And then…years pass.

Life happens.

The excitement isn’t quite the same.

That doesn’t necessarily mean keto stopped working.

Maybe you don’t need a new diet.

Maybe you need to stir the fire.

Remember why you started.

Look at old pictures.

Remember what everyday life used to feel like.

Remember what you couldn’t do.

Remember the person who desperately wanted the life you’re living now.

God Hasn’t Given Us a Spirit of Fear

Then comes one of the most famous verses in Scripture:

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” — 2 Timothy 1:7

I’ve been thinking about that differently lately.

Because fear doesn’t always look like hiding under the covers.

Sometimes fear sounds like:

What if people don’t like what I say?

What if they criticize me?

What if people unsubscribe?

What if someone thinks I’m doing keto wrong?

What if I change my mind about something I taught three years ago?

What if this community changes?

What if people we love leave?

What if what’s coming next looks nothing like what came before?

Paul doesn’t say we’ll never experience fear.

He tells us what should lead instead: Power. Love. A sound mind.

That means I don’t need to respond to criticism with anger.

I don’t need to change my convictions because someone is loud.

And I don’t need to panic about the future.

I can listen.

I can learn.

I can adjust.

I can love people who disagree with me.

And I can continue moving forward.

Maybe the Next Season Is Supposed to Look Different

This is something I’ve been thinking about more lately.

When you’ve been doing something for years, it’s tempting to believe the next chapter should simply be a bigger version of the last one.

More followers.

More views.

More people.

More content.

More everything.

But what if growth isn’t always more?

What if sometimes growth is deeper?

What if the next season isn’t about reaching everybody?

What if it’s about reaching the people who are ready?

What if it’s less about convincing people and more about serving them?

What if we’re supposed to spend less energy defending ourselves and more energy actually living the life we’re talking about?

And what if some of the people we’re going to impact haven’t even found us yet?

I don’t know exactly what the future looks like.

And strangely, I’m becoming more okay with that.

I Know Whom I Have Believed

Paul didn’t say:

“I know exactly what’s going to happen.”

He said:

“I know whom I have believed.”

That’s where this gets bigger than keto.

Because keto can change.

Our bodies change.

Research changes.

Platforms change.

Businesses change.

Communities change.

People change.

We change.

And eventually every one of us will encounter a situation where the strategy that worked yesterday doesn’t tell us what to do tomorrow.

That’s where faith comes in.

I don’t have to know every detail of the next chapter.

I don’t have to know who will stay.

I don’t have to chase the people who leave.

I don’t have to convince the person who isn’t ready.

I don’t have to defend every decision to every stranger on the internet.

I don’t even have to know exactly what this whole keto/carnivore world will look like five years from now.

I can keep learning.

Keep sharing.

Keep loving people.

Keep telling the truth about my experience.

Keep the door open for the person who isn’t ready yet.

And keep showing up for the person I don’t even know is watching.

Because after everything that has changed—and everything that undoubtedly still will—

I don’t necessarily know what comes next.

But I know Whom I have believed.

And that’s enough to take the next step.

You haven’t eaten since breakfast.

It’s 4:37 p.m.

And somehow… you’re fine.

No emergency cheese.

No digging through your purse hoping a rogue almond has survived in there since 2019.

No standing in front of the refrigerator thinking, If I don’t eat something in the next four minutes, I’m going to perish.

The scale is dropping. Your appetite has packed its bags. You have energy. Your rings are getting loose. You’re peeing approximately 47 times a day.

THIS IS AMAZING.

Then, several months later, something changes.

You’re still eating keto, but you’re hungry more often.

Your ketones aren’t as impressive.

You can eat more fat without losing weight.

The scale has slowed down—or stopped altogether.

And suddenly you wonder: Did keto stop working?

Probably not.

You may simply have left the honeymoon phase.

And this is where keto actually gets interesting.

Keto Adaptation and Fat Adaptation Aren’t Exactly the Same Thing

When you drastically reduce carbohydrates, your body has to make some fairly significant adjustments.

At first, you’re primarily changing fuel availability.

Glucose and glycogen become less readily available, insulin levels generally fall, stored glycogen gets depleted, and your liver begins producing more ketones.

That’s why you can enter nutritional ketosis relatively quickly.

But producing ketones doesn’t automatically mean your entire metabolism has become highly efficient at using fat.

That takes longer.

Over the following weeks and months, your muscles, liver, mitochondria, hormones, and enzymes become increasingly accustomed to operating in an environment where fat is a major fuel source.

That’s fat adaptation.

Think of ketosis as getting the keys to the car.

Fat adaptation is learning how to drive it. (And eventually parallel park without crying.)

The Beginning of Keto Is Weirdly Exciting

Early keto often comes with dramatic feedback.

You might lose five, eight, or even ten pounds surprisingly quickly.

Unfortunately, your body did not incinerate ten pounds of body fat while you slept.

A significant portion of that early loss is usually water.

Stored carbohydrate—glycogen—holds water. When glycogen drops, much of that associated water leaves with it.

Which explains the early keto experience:

Day 3: “I’ve lost six pounds!”

Day 5: “My ankles have returned!”

Day 7: “I HAVE DISCOVERED THE SECRET OF LIFE.”

Enjoy it.

Just understand what’s happening.

Because eventually the water-loss fireworks end.

Then we’re playing the longer game.

Your Appetite May Change Dramatically

One of the most noticeable early effects of keto for many people is appetite suppression.

Suddenly the person who once needed breakfast, second breakfast, lunch, a little treat, dinner, dessert, and “something crunchy” at 9:14 p.m. realizes: I’m not thinking about food constantly.

There are several possible contributors.

More stable blood glucose can reduce the roller coaster of hunger for some people. Higher protein intake improves satiety. Ketones themselves may influence appetite. And removing highly palatable combinations of refined carbohydrates and fat can make food considerably less compelling.

But here’s something people aren’t always prepared for: Your appetite may eventually come back.

And that doesn’t necessarily mean anything has gone wrong.

Your body isn’t obligated to remain in the almost bizarre appetite-suppressed state some people experience during early keto.

Hunger is allowed.

The goal was never: Become a person who never wants food again.

The goal is developing a healthier relationship with hunger where it becomes useful information instead of a five-alarm emergency.

Your Ketone Numbers May Become Less Exciting

This one scares people.

At the beginning: Blood ketones: 2.1 mmol/L

You take a picture.

You consider framing the meter.

Six months later: 0.6 mmol/L

PANIC.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO MY KETONES?”

Maybe nothing bad.

As your body becomes better at using ketones, circulating levels don’t necessarily need to remain extraordinarily high.

Think about gasoline.

Having 40 gallons sitting around doesn’t necessarily mean your car is functioning better than someone with 10 gallons.

What’s important is whether the fuel is being effectively used.

Ketones are fuel, not keto merit badges.

Unless you’re pursuing therapeutic ketosis for a medical reason under appropriate guidance, chasing the highest possible ketone reading usually isn’t necessary.

You don’t win keto because your meter says 3.7.

Fat Adaptation Doesn’t Mean Unlimited Dietary Fat

This may be the most important lesson after the honeymoon phase.

Early keto taught many of us: Fat is your friend.

And compared with decades of fearing egg yolks, butter, steak and avocado, that was an important correction.

But somewhere along the way, some people heard: Since fat is my friend, the more fat I eat, the more fat I will burn.

Those are not the same statement.

Your body can burn:

dietary fat
or
stored body fat.

Both are fat.

If you’re eating enough dietary energy to meet all of your body’s needs, your body has considerably less reason to reach into its savings account.

Imagine you’re trying to empty a freezer. But every morning a delivery truck arrives and puts another 30 pounds of meat inside.

You can proudly announce:

“LOOK HOW MUCH MEAT I’M TAKING OUT OF THIS FREEZER!”

Wonderful.

But we’re trying to empty the freezer.

Stop restocking it faster than you’re emptying it.

That’s the dietary-fat conversation in a nutshell.

This Is Why “Eat Fat to Satiety” Can Change Over Time

For someone transitioning from a high-carbohydrate diet, adding adequate dietary fat can be incredibly helpful.

It makes meals satisfying.

It makes keto sustainable.

It can help someone stop fearing food.

And it can make carbohydrate restriction dramatically easier.

But as your body adapts—and especially as you lose body fat—your energy needs and appetite can change.

The amount of dietary fat that worked beautifully at 250 pounds may not produce the same results at 175 pounds.

This isn’t keto failing. Your body changed. The strategy may need to change with it.

Protein Becomes Increasingly Important

If there is one macronutrient I would rather see people prioritize as keto progresses, it’s protein.

Protein provides amino acids needed to maintain and repair lean tissue. It also tends to be highly satiating and has a higher thermic effect than carbohydrate or fat.

And maintaining muscle becomes increasingly important as we age.

This is why a useful way to build a keto meal is: Protein first. Then, add enough fat to make the meal satisfying. Carbohydrates remain low enough to support your goals.

This is very different from: “How can I get another 70 grams of fat into this meal?”

You don’t need to butter your butter.

Your Energy May Feel Different Too

Early keto energy can sometimes feel almost euphoric.

LET’S CLEAN THE GARAGE!

LET’S ORGANIZE THE PANTRY!

WHY HAVE I NEVER PRESSURE-WASHED THE ROOF?!

Eventually that often settles.

What replaces it may be less dramatic but more useful: steady energy.

You can miss a meal without becoming shaky and desperate.

You can go several hours without thinking about food.

Exercise doesn’t automatically create an immediate carbohydrate emergency.

Your energy feels less dependent on what you ate two hours ago.

That is metabolic flexibility beginning to show itself.

And boring, reliable energy is actually pretty fantastic.

Eventually, Keto Gets Less Exciting

And this might actually be the goal.

At first keto is a project.

You’re testing ketones.

Tracking everything.

Reading labels like you’re investigating financial fraud.

“WHY IS THERE MALTODEXTRIN IN THIS?”

You’re taking pictures of your meals.

You’re calculating macros.

Eventually? You just eat.

You know which foods work for you.

You understand hunger better.

You know how much protein you need.

You recognize when dietary fat has quietly crept upward.

You know that gaining three pounds overnight doesn’t mean you gained three pounds of body fat.

You don’t panic because your ketones are 0.5.

Food becomes less of a science experiment.

That’s progress.

The Honeymoon Ending Isn’t Failure

The beginning of keto gives us lots of external reinforcement.

Scale drops.

Ketone readings.

Reduced hunger.

Water loss.

Energy bursts.

Compliments.

Smaller clothes.

Eventually those rewards become less frequent.

And that’s where some people start chasing the honeymoon.

They fast longer.

Cut carbs lower.

Push fat higher.

Cut calories harder.

Eliminate more foods.

Test more often.

Add increasingly complicated rules.

All because they’re trying to recreate the feeling of the first six weeks.

But your goal isn’t to stay a keto beginner forever.

Your goal is to build a metabolism—and a way of eating—that works when keto isn’t exciting anymore.

What Should You Pay Attention to Instead?

After the honeymoon phase, your scoreboard probably needs to expand.

Instead of asking only: “How high are my ketones?”

Ask:

Am I getting enough protein?

Can I comfortably go several hours between meals?

Is my energy relatively stable?

Am I maintaining or building muscle?

Are my clothes fitting differently?

Are my metabolic health markers improving?

Am I sleeping well?

Am I recovering from exercise?

Is my eating pattern sustainable?

Can I recognize true hunger?

Am I eating dietary fat because I need it—or because I think keto requires me to?

And perhaps most importantly:

Can I live this way without constantly thinking about living this way?

Because that’s a massively underrated measure of success.

Fat Adaptation Isn’t the Finish Line

There’s no morning when you wake up, hear trumpets, and receive a notification:

CONGRATULATIONS! FAT ADAPTATION COMPLETE.

It’s a continuum.

Your metabolism is constantly responding to your food intake, activity, sleep, body composition, stress, hormones and environment.

Keto isn’t about permanently locking yourself into one metabolic state.

Ideally, you’re becoming more metabolically flexible.

Your body can use glucose when glucose is available.

It can use fat when fat is available.

It can access stored energy between meals.

And you don’t have to micromanage every hour of the process.

Welcome to the Boring Part

The honeymoon phase is fun.

Everything is new.

Everything is dramatic.

Everything feels like evidence that you’ve finally figured it out.

But long-term success usually isn’t dramatic. It’s Tuesday.

You ate some eggs and meat.

You weren’t hungry for five hours.

You went about your life.

Dinner was protein, vegetables and enough fat to make it delicious.

You didn’t test anything.

You didn’t earn anything.

You didn’t “crush” keto.

You just ate.

And tomorrow you’ll probably do something similar.

That may not make a particularly exciting before-and-after Instagram Reel.

But if your goal is to build an eating pattern you can actually live with the boring part might be where keto finally starts working exactly the way it was supposed to.

You could have ignored the Oreos in the pantry for three weeks.

But announce that Monday is DAY ONE, and suddenly those Oreos are a loose end that needs to be tied up.

Well, I can’t have them tomorrow.

Better eat them tonight.

There’s half a pint of ice cream in the freezer?

Handle it.

Leftover pizza?

We can’t leave innocent civilians behind.

Some stale tortilla chips and queso of questionable age?

Apparently they, too, must be evacuated.

By Sunday night, we’re eating foods we weren’t even thinking about Friday because tomorrow we’re “getting serious.”

We call this getting it out of the house.

Which is technically true.

It’s just taking a detour through our digestive system.

And underneath this completely ridiculous ritual is something surprisingly deep: Sometimes we’re more afraid of wanting food and not eating it than we are of overeating it.

We’ll tolerate being stuffed.

We’ll tolerate reflux.

We’ll tolerate waking up thirsty, bloated and wondering why our wedding ring suddenly requires WD-40.

We’ll tolerate the inevitable: Why did I eat all that?

But wanting cheesecake and deciding not to eat cheesecake?

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

I’m not living a life of deprivation.

But are we actually deprived?

Or have we simply become deeply uncomfortable with hearing the word no — even when we’re the one saying it?

Apparently, Wanting Something Is Now an Emergency

Think about how strange this is.

We want things all day long that we don’t immediately have.

I want a beach house.

Yet somehow I continue living without one.

I want someone to clean my house.

Nobody has appeared.

I want to fly first class.

Delta remains unmoved by my suffering.

I want to tell certain people exactly what I think.

Through tremendous spiritual growth and fear of screenshots, I occasionally refrain.

We understand perfectly well that desire doesn’t create an obligation everywhere else.

But put a warm chocolate chip cookie in front of us and suddenly: BUT I WANT IT.

Okay.

You want it.

That’s allowed.

Wanting something isn’t a medical emergency.

You don’t have to immediately make the wanting go away.

And yet, for many of us, that’s exactly what we’ve trained ourselves to do.

Want food.

Eat food.

Desire gone.

Problem solved.

Which means we’ve had very little practice discovering what happens if we simply…want it.

“I Better Eat It While I Can”

There may be no sentence more responsible for unnecessary eating than: “I won’t be able to have this tomorrow.”

Starting keto Monday?

Better order pizza Sunday.

Giving up sugar?

Better hit Dairy Queen.

Going back “on plan” after vacation?

Apparently every restaurant between here and home needs a farewell visit.

Starting a 30-day challenge on the first?

The 30th becomes Mardi Gras.

And God help us if the month has a 31st.

We tell ourselves we’re enjoying our “last chance.”

But half the time we’re not even enjoying it anymore.

We’re full.

The food isn’t that good.

We’ve already had plenty.

Yet we keep going because some primitive little Costco employee in our brain is screaming: STOCK UP. THERE WON’T BE ANY TOMORROW.

That’s not hunger.

That’s scarcity.

Forbidden Food Gets Hotter

Nothing improves the attractiveness of mediocre food quite like deciding you can’t have it.

Yesterday:

Eh. Doughnuts.

Today:

I have begun a new lifestyle in which doughnuts are forbidden.

Suddenly:

My God. Look at her.

Glazed.

Perfectly round.

Probably has a wonderful personality.

You hadn’t thought about a doughnut in two weeks.

Now you’re mentally writing poetry about one because you’ve declared it off-limits.

That’s what scarcity does.

It increases perceived value.

Tell yourself: “I could have that another time if I genuinely decide I want it.”

and your brain can relax.

Tell yourself: “NEVER AGAIN.”

and your brain starts putting together a hostage negotiation.

The Last Supper Has Gotten Out of Hand

Many of us have been doing some version of this for decades.

Monday morning:

THIS IS IT.

I’m serious this time.

No cheating.

No excuses.

No sugar.

No snacks.

No eating after 7.

No fun.

No happiness.

No reason to continue living.

Okay, maybe we don’t say the last three.

But sometimes that’s how our brain hears it.

So Sunday Night You starts protecting herself from Monday Morning You.

Sunday says: This woman is clearly unstable. Eat everything.

Monday says: Look what you did! Obviously I need stricter rules.

Friday says: I HAVE BEEN OPPRESSED LONG ENOUGH.

And the cycle starts again.

Restriction.

Rebellion.

Guilt.

Stricter restriction.

Bigger rebellion.

Then we stand in the wreckage holding an empty bag of chips and conclude: I have no willpower.

Maybe that’s not the whole story.

Maybe you’ve spent years creating an internal food dictatorship and then acting shocked when the citizens riot.

There’s a Difference Between Deprivation and Disappointment

This one matters.

Actual deprivation exists.

Being hungry all the time isn’t a sustainable health plan.

Living on six foods you hate isn’t freedom.

Skipping every celebration, fearing restaurants and bringing a Tupperware container of dry chicken breast to your daughter’s wedding because they’re having a wedding cake isn’t necessarily the pinnacle of wellness.

But neither is this: “I wanted a cupcake and didn’t eat a cupcake.”

Sometimes you’re not deprived.

Sometimes you’re just…disappointed.

And disappointment will not kill us.

This is actually one of adulthood’s least advertised features.

Sometimes you want something and decide not to have it.

Deprivation says: I’m never allowed to enjoy food.

Disappointment says: Man, I’d really enjoy that. But I’m choosing not to have it tonight.

One feels powerless.

The other is a decision.

And we’ve got to stop calling every moment of unsatisfied desire “restriction.”

Sometimes you just didn’t eat the cookie.

The cookie will recover.

So will you.

“But I Deserve It”

This is where things get interesting.

Long day?

I deserve something good.

Kids drove you crazy?

I deserve ice cream.

Boss annoyed you?

Pizza.

Husband breathed too loudly?

Apparently nachos.

We don’t just eat food because we’re hungry.

We use it as compensation.

Life took something from me today, therefore I am owed something.

And food is incredibly convenient.

It doesn’t require reservations.

It doesn’t need childcare.

It doesn’t ask how you’re feeling.

It doesn’t tell you it has a headache.

It just sits there being delicious.

But maybe when we hear ourselves say: “I deserve this,”

we should occasionally ask:

What do I actually deserve?

Rest?

Fun?

Comfort?

Five minutes where nobody asks me where something is when they haven’t actually looked for it?

Someone else doing the dishes?

A hobby?

A boundary?

A life containing enough pleasure that food doesn’t have to carry the entire entertainment department?

Because if food is the only reliable reward in your life, of course changing how you eat feels terrifying.

We’re trying to remove the only employee who’s been showing up consistently.

Maybe the answer isn’t becoming better at deprivation.

Maybe we need more things in our lives that feel good.

We’re Terrified There Won’t Be More

This is the real heart of it.

Fear of deprivation says: Take it now.

This might be your last chance.

There might not be enough later.

You may regret passing this up.

So we eat when we’re not hungry.

We finish because it’s there.

We have seconds because everyone else is.

We eat dessert because we’re “starting tomorrow.”

We keep eating after something stops tasting amazing because leaving it feels somehow wrong.

We turn one enjoyable experience into three uncomfortable ones because apparently if one slice of cake is pleasurable, four slices must be four times as pleasurable.

Anyone who has tested this theory knows the math is deeply flawed.

Slice one:

This is incredible.

Slice two:

Still pretty great.

Slice three:

I have made an error.

Slice four:

Please notify my family.

More isn’t always more pleasurable.

Sometimes more is just more.

What If You Knew There Would Be More?

This might be one of the most powerful things we can teach ourselves around food: There will be more.

Another restaurant.

Another vacation.

Another birthday.

Another Friday night.

Another dessert.

Another piece of pizza.

Another opportunity to eat something delicious.

You don’t have to consume every opportunity because you’re afraid another one won’t come.

That’s abundance.

And ironically, abundance may sometimes look like leaving food on the plate.

Because you’re no longer thinking: I have to get everything I can right now.

You’re thinking: I’m good. There will be more.

That’s a radically different relationship with food.

You Can Want Something Without Solving the Want

Try this sometime.

You see something you want.

Instead of immediately deciding whether you’re “allowed” to eat it, just notice:

I want that.

And stop there.

No courtroom.

No prosecution.

No defense attorney.

No closing arguments about whether one brownie will ruin your entire metabolic future.

Just: That looks really good.

Maybe you eat it.

Maybe you don’t.

But if you don’t, notice what happens next.

Your brain may get dramatic.

But I WANT it.

Yes.

But I could eat it RIGHT NOW.

Also true.

But what if I still want it in an hour?

Then I suppose we’ll alert the media when that next hour arrives.

Let the urge exist.

Because here’s something many of us never learned: You don’t have to make desire disappear.

It will rise.

It may nag you.

It may hang around for a while.

And then eventually you’ll answer a text, fold laundry, feed the animals, watch something on television or become distracted by the fact that nobody in your house knows how to replace an empty toilet paper roll.

And you’ll realize: Oh. I forgot about it.

That’s powerful.

Because every time that happens, your brain learns: Wanting something isn’t dangerous.

Food Freedom Has to Include the Freedom to Say No

We talk a lot about food freedom.

And we should.

But sometimes we’ve accidentally defined freedom as: I eat whatever I want whenever I want it because nobody gets to tell me no.

That’s not freedom.

If I have to eat something because I want it, I’m still being controlled.

Just by the wanting.

Real freedom has two doors.

Yes.

And

No.

I can eat the cheesecake because I’ve decided it’s worth it.

I can skip the cheesecake because I’ve decided something else matters more.

Neither decision makes me virtuous.

Neither makes me a failure.

Neither needs to become a personality trait.

It’s just a choice.

Stop Making Tomorrow Pay for Tonight

This may be the biggest change of all.

Stop creating a tomorrow so miserable that tonight feels obligated to prepare for it.

If Monday’s plan makes Sunday You want to eat an entire cheesecake in self-defense, perhaps Monday’s plan needs another look.

Your healthy life cannot constantly feel like punishment is about to begin.

You shouldn’t need a farewell tour every Sunday night.

Maybe instead of: “Tomorrow I have to get back on track,”

try: “Tomorrow I’m going to take care of myself.”

That’s different.

Taking care of yourself isn’t punishment for what you ate yesterday.

And eating something enjoyable isn’t rebellion against taking care of yourself.

Those things can coexist.

The Goal Isn’t to Become Someone Who Never Wants the Cookie

You probably will want the cookie sometimes.

It’s a cookie.

They’ve put considerable research into making sure you do.

Success isn’t staring at warm chocolate chip cookies with the emotional response of someone examining drywall.

The goal isn’t: I don’t want it.

The goal might simply be: I can want it without being afraid of wanting it.

I can want it without believing this is my last opportunity.

I can want it without needing three.

I can want it without promising I’ll never eat one again.

I can want it and eat it intentionally.

I can want it and leave it.

I can even be disappointed.

And I’ll be okay.

Because maybe the opposite of deprivation isn’t unlimited permission.

Maybe it’s security.

Security says: There will be more.

I am not about to enter a famine.

Monday is not punishment.

Food isn’t disappearing.

Pleasure isn’t disappearing.

I am allowed to enjoy my life.

And I don’t have to cram all of that enjoyment into tonight because tomorrow I’m “being good.”

There will be another cookie.

Another dinner.

Another celebration.

Another vacation.

Another opportunity.

Another choice.

You don’t have to eat tomorrow’s joy tonight.

And maybe that’s what actual food freedom looks like: Not always saying yes. Not always saying no.

But finally realizing that wanting something doesn’t mean you’re deprived if you don’t have it.

Sometimes you just want it.

And amazingly enough…you can survive that.

Meanwhile, somebody who desperately wants to lose 70 pounds is looking at her transformation photo thinking: If I looked like THAT, I’d finally be happy.

Somewhere else, a woman who is at goal weight and who has had skin removal surgery is zooming in on a picture of herself wondering why one eye looks smaller than the other.

We are an exhausting species.

We can find something wrong with ourselves under fluorescent lighting in under eight seconds.

And maybe that’s because somewhere along the way, we learned to confuse looking good with being good.

Thin became disciplined.

Fit became successful.

Attractive became valuable.

Weight gain became laziness.

Aging became something to “fight.”

And dietary perfection became evidence that we finally had our lives together.

So we started trying to solve an internal problem with an external renovation.

Maybe if I lose 30 pounds.

Maybe if I get into a size 8.

Maybe if I get my teeth fixed.

Maybe if my arms looked better.

Maybe if I could get rid of this stomach.

Maybe then I’d walk into a room without wondering whether everyone was judging me.

Maybe then I’d finally feel like enough.

Except there’s an inconvenient problem:

People with low self-worth are remarkably good at moving goalposts.

You can spend years remodeling the house without ever addressing the foundation.

Where Did We Get the Idea That Looking Better Would Make Us Better?

Honestly? Everywhere.

You don’t have to be particularly shallow to become appearance-conscious.

You just have to grow up on Earth.

Pretty people get complimented.

Thin people get praised for “taking care of themselves.”

People who lose weight hear: “You look AMAZING!”

Which is wonderful.

Except sometimes a tiny part of your brain hears the unspoken second sentence: Apparently I didn’t before.

Maybe you were the heavy kid.

Maybe your mother constantly criticized her own body and you learned that this is simply what women do.

Maybe somebody teased you.

Maybe you were compared to a prettier sibling.

Maybe you got rejected.

Maybe you were cheated on.

Maybe you spent years feeling invisible.

Maybe you gained weight during a difficult season and every photograph from that period became something you wanted deleted.

Maybe nobody ever said anything directly.

You just noticed.

People responded differently when you looked better.

You got compliments when you lost weight.

You got attention when you dressed up.

You felt more visible when you were smaller.

And humans are excellent students of whatever gets rewarded.

So your brain connected the dots: Looking better = being more valuable.

That’s a dangerous equation.

Because bodies change.

They age.

They gain.

They lose.

They wrinkle.

They scar.

They get sick.

They go through pregnancies, menopause, injuries, stressful years and Tuesday.

If your worth is attached to maintaining a particular exterior, you’re building your house on beachfront property during hurricane season.

Eventually something is going to move.

Sometimes Low Self-Worth Started Long Before the Diet

We talk about low self-esteem as though someone woke up one morning and randomly decided: You know what sounds fun? Disliking myself.

Usually there’s a history.

Maybe you grew up believing approval had to be earned.

Be good.

Don’t cause trouble.

Get good grades.

Make people happy.

Don’t embarrass us.

Be useful.

Be agreeable.

Don’t be needy.

Maybe praise came primarily when you accomplished something.

So you learned: Performance earns love.

Then adulthood simply gave you new performance categories.

Career.

Marriage.

Parenting.

Money.

House.

Body.

Weight.

Diet.

Now instead of bringing home an A on your report card, you’re bringing home a lower number from the bathroom scale.

Same system.

Different report card.

And keto can slide beautifully into that system.

Twenty carbs?

Gold star.

Stayed on plan?

Good girl.

Ate the cookie?

Well, obviously we’re a complete disappointment and should probably eat six more while we’re here.

That’s when nutrition stops being something you do and starts becoming evidence about who you are.

Here’s the Weird Part: We Admire People Who Don’t Do This

Think about someone you know who seems genuinely comfortable with themselves.

Not arrogant.

Not attention-seeking.

Not constantly announcing how fabulous they are.

Just… settled.

They can laugh at themselves.

They don’t need everybody to agree with them.

They can walk into a room without auditioning.

They don’t crumble when somebody doesn’t like them.

They’ll wear the bathing suit.

They’ll order what they want.

They can say, “I was wrong.”

They can also say, “No.”

They aren’t constantly explaining themselves.

They don’t seem to need permission to occupy space.

We LOVE people like that.

We call them confident.

Grounded.

Authentic.

Secure.

We want to be around them.

Yet strangely, when it comes to ourselves, we often don’t practice any of the behaviors that create those qualities.

We wait for confidence to arrive.

After I lose the weight.

After I fix my teeth.

After I get better clothes.

After I’m more successful.

After I stop being awkward.

After people approve of me.

But the person you admire didn’t necessarily receive confidence because life finally declared them acceptable.

Often they built it.

One small act of self-respect at a time.

Self-Respect Is Much Less Glamorous Than We Think

Self-respect is simply becoming someone you can trust.

It’s saying you’re going to do something and increasingly doing it.

Not perfectly.

Consistently.

It’s going to bed instead of scrolling for another two hours.

It’s keeping the doctor’s appointment.

It’s eating the meal that supports your goals even though nobody is watching.

It’s also eating enough instead of trying to punish yesterday’s overeating with today’s starvation.

It’s saying no without writing a 14-paragraph legal defense.

It’s leaving relationships where you’re repeatedly treated badly.

It’s apologizing when you’re wrong without deciding that being wrong makes you worthless.

It’s wearing clothes that fit your current body instead of keeping yourself uncomfortable as punishment for not being smaller.

It’s taking the picture.

It’s going to the party.

It’s learning something new even though you might look stupid at first.

It’s allowing someone not to like you without immediately launching a full investigation into what is wrong with your personality.

Self-respect grows when your behavior repeatedly tells your brain: I will take care of you.

You Need Evidence

This is the part we often miss.

You can’t always think your way into confidence.

Sometimes you have to collect evidence.

You want to believe you’re capable?

Do difficult things.

You want to believe you’re trustworthy?

Keep small promises to yourself.

You want to believe you’re brave?

Do things while you’re nervous.

You want to believe you’re interesting?

Develop interests.

You want friendships?

Risk being the person who sends the text first.

You want to feel like you’re living instead of merely existing?

Put things on the calendar.

You want to believe your life is good?

Start recording the good things that happen instead of allowing your brain to archive every awkward moment since 1997 while immediately deleting anything pleasant.

That’s how self-respect grows.

Not through one dramatic revelation.

Through evidence.

I said I’d walk three times this week. I did.

Evidence.

I had a terrible food day and got right back to normal at breakfast instead of turning it into a four-day binge.

Evidence.

I went somewhere alone even though I felt awkward.

Evidence.

I set a boundary and survived someone’s disappointment.

Evidence.

I wore the shorts. Nobody died.

Evidence.

Little by little, you’re building a case for yourself.

Stop Waiting to Feel Confident First

This may be one of the biggest traps of all.

We think: When I feel confident, I’ll do confident things.

Usually it’s backward.

You do the thing.

You survive the awkwardness.

Your brain goes: Huh. Apparently we can do that.

Then confidence grows.

That’s why hiding until you feel better about yourself rarely works.

Hiding reinforces the belief that you should hide.

Avoiding pictures reinforces the belief that you shouldn’t be seen.

Never initiating friendships reinforces the belief that people probably don’t want you around.

Refusing to wear the swimsuit reinforces the belief that your body isn’t allowed at the pool yet.

Sometimes self-worth grows because you stop requiring yourself to feel completely comfortable before you’re allowed to participate in your own life.

This Changes the Health Journey Too

There’s nothing wrong with wanting weight loss.

There’s nothing wrong with keto.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look better.

I’d like my hair to cooperate, my skin to look good and my pants to fit.

We don’t need to pretend we’re spiritually above vanity.

The problem begins when appearance becomes the primary evidence we’re using to determine whether we’re doing okay as human beings.

Because then every fluctuation becomes personal.

Scale down?

I am crushing life.

Scale up?

Apparently I’m a dumpster fire.

Stayed keto?

Disciplined.

Ate something off plan?

Weak.

And suddenly breakfast has become a psychological evaluation.

Food doesn’t deserve that much authority.

Neither does the scale.

Build a Bigger Life Than Your Body

Maybe one of the greatest protections against obsessing over appearance is having more things about yourself that you value.

Become useful.

Become curious.

Become funny.

Become dependable.

Become generous.

Learn things.

Grow things.

Build things.

Help somebody.

Become the person who remembers birthdays.

Become the person who shows up.

Develop a skill.

Join something.

Invite people over even if your house isn’t perfect.

Take the trip.

Volunteer.

Start the project.

Learn to cook something difficult.

Raise chickens.

Paint terribly.

Take dance lessons.

Read books.

Lift weights.

Grow tomatoes that inevitably become a personal vendetta against insects.

Have opinions.

Change some of them.

Become someone whose identity is too large to fit inside a pair of jeans.

Because here’s something worth considering:

Maybe appearance becomes overwhelmingly important when we haven’t cultivated enough other things about ourselves that we’re proud of.

If “thin” is your biggest accomplishment, gaining weight feels devastating.

But if you’re also a good friend, a loving spouse, a dependable parent, a person of faith, a hard worker, a gardener, a business owner, a volunteer, a reader, a creator, a neighbor who shows up, someone who’s brave enough to try new things and someone who keeps getting back up—the scale gets demoted.

It becomes one piece of information about one part of your life.

Exactly where it belongs.

Maybe You Don’t Need More Self-Esteem

Maybe you need more self-respect.

Self-esteem asks:

How do I feel about myself today?

That answer can change depending on the lighting in a Target dressing room.

Self-respect asks:

How am I treating myself?

That’s something you can actually work on.

Today.

You can eat in a way that supports your health.

You can keep one promise.

You can stop speaking to yourself like someone you hate.

You can establish one boundary.

You can send one text.

You can do one uncomfortable thing.

You can stop postponing one thing you’ve been waiting to be thinner, prettier, richer or more confident to do.

And tomorrow, you can do another.

Eventually something interesting happens.

You start trusting yourself.

Then you start respecting yourself.

Then maybe you don’t need quite as much reassurance from the mirror.

You Can Still Want the Weight Loss

Lose the weight.

Improve your blood sugar.

Get stronger.

Eat better food.

Build muscle.

Wear the smaller jeans.

Enjoy the transformation pictures.

Celebrate every single victory.

Just don’t arrive at your goal weight expecting to meet a completely different person there.

You’re bringing yourself with you.

So work on her, too.

Work on becoming someone who keeps promises.

Someone who can handle disappointment.

Someone who doesn’t need universal approval.

Someone who can be awkward and survive.

Someone who doesn’t abandon herself after a mistake.

Someone who participates in life before everything is perfect.

Someone whose confidence has roots deeper than a compliment.

Because one day your weight will change.

Your face will change.

Your body will change.

That’s the deal we all got.

But if you’ve spent those years building character, relationships, courage, competence, faith, humor, curiosity, resilience and self-respect, something wonderful happens:

You don’t disappear when your appearance changes.

You’re still there.

And maybe that’s what we were actually looking for all those years we were chasing the perfect number on the scale.

Not proof that we were finally thin enough.

Proof that we had become someone we could respect.

Nobody put you on keto.

Nobody followed you through the grocery store slapping bread out of your hands.

Nobody called the restaurant ahead of time and told them not to give you the fries.

You researched it.

You decided to try it.

You bought the meat.

You threw out the cookies.

You told everybody how much better you felt.

And then one random Saturday night, you’re staring at a piece of cake thinking:

“I am a grown woman. Nobody is going to tell me what I can and cannot eat.”

Correct.

But there’s just one tiny problem.

The person telling you not to eat it… is also you.

Welcome to one of the weirdest parts of changing your relationship with food: Rebelling against yourself.

When “I Don’t Want It” Becomes “I Can’t Have It”

In the beginning, dietary boundaries can feel empowering.

You’re doing something.

You’re taking control.

You’re seeing progress.

Maybe your hunger is improving. Your clothes are fitting differently. Your energy is coming back. You’re proud of yourself.

Passing up the bread basket doesn’t feel like deprivation.

It feels like victory.

But eventually the honeymoon ends.

Keto becomes normal.

The compliments slow down.

The scale isn’t giving you a standing ovation every Tuesday morning.

And somewhere along the way, something changes.

“I don’t want that” quietly becomes: “I’m not allowed to have that.”

And those words hit differently.

Suddenly everybody at the table has something you “can’t” have.

Everybody else gets dessert.

Everybody else gets popcorn at the movies.

Everybody else gets pizza.

Everybody else gets to be normal.

And now you don’t necessarily want the food.

You want your freedom back.

Sometimes It’s Not a Craving. It’s a Protest.

This is something worth learning about yourself.

Sometimes you genuinely want the cookie.

And sometimes you barely cared about the cookie until you decided you couldn’t have it.

Now that cookie represents human rights.

You weren’t even thinking about the chips until someone said: “Oh, you can’t have those on keto.”

Excuse me?

Suddenly you’re mentally drafting the Declaration of Independence in the snack aisle.

I can eat whatever I want.

Yes, you can.

One meal isn’t going to ruin my life.

Probably not.

I deserve to enjoy myself.

Of course you do.

I’m tired of food controlling me.

Okay.

But here’s the question that gets uncomfortable: If you have to eat something just to prove that you’re allowed to eat it, is that actually freedom?

“It’s Not Fair”

There may be no sentence more dangerous to a health journey than: “It’s not fair.”

It’s not fair that she can eat pizza and stay thin.

It’s not fair that he can have dessert every night.

It’s not fair that everyone else can eat whatever they want.

It’s not fair that I have to think about this.

Maybe.

But we rarely know what “everybody else” is dealing with.

And more importantly, fairness has very little to do with what works for your body.

I would love to announce that calories consumed while standing at the kitchen counter don’t count.

I would also like vacation carbohydrates to remain geographically located at the resort after checkout.

Unfortunately, my body has rejected both proposals.

Our bodies don’t negotiate based on fairness.

They respond to what we repeatedly do.

And eventually we have to decide whether we want to build our lives around what feels fair—or around what actually helps us feel good.

Boundaries Aren’t Punishment

This is where we get mixed up.

We hear “boundary” and think restriction.

But we use boundaries everywhere.

You don’t spend every dollar you earn because technically you’re allowed to.

You don’t stay awake until 4 a.m. every night because nobody can force you to go to bed.

You don’t say everything that crosses your mind during a family gathering. Hopefully.

Having freedom doesn’t mean exercising every option available to you.

Real freedom includes the ability to say no.

Sometimes saying no isn’t taking something away from yourself.

Sometimes it’s protecting something.

You aren’t saying no to one dinner roll.

You’re saying yes to waking up tomorrow without waking up the cravings you’ve spent months quieting.

You’re not refusing dessert because dessert is morally bad.

You’re making a trade.

And grown-up life is full of trades.

Try Changing One Sentence

Listen to how often you say:

“I can’t have that.”

Now try:

“I don’t eat that.”

Or even:

“I can. I’m choosing not to today.”

That small change matters.

“I can’t” puts somebody else in charge.

“I choose” puts you back in the driver’s seat.

Because the truth is, you absolutely can eat it.

You can leave this article right now, drive to the store, buy a family-sized package of cookies and eat them in the parking lot.

Nobody is coming.

There is no Keto SWAT team.

The question was never whether you’re allowed to eat it.

The question is: Do you want what comes with it?

That’s different.

But Maybe Some of Your Rules DO Need to Go

There’s another possibility we shouldn’t ignore.

Maybe you’re resentful because you’ve made this unnecessarily miserable.

Somewhere along the way you collected every keto rule you’ve ever heard.

Don’t eat after 6 p.m.

Don’t eat snacks.

Don’t eat dairy.

Don’t eat nuts.

Don’t eat sweeteners.

Don’t eat too much protein.

Don’t eat too much fat.

Don’t eat tomatoes.

Don’t eat onions.

Don’t look directly at a blueberry.

At some point you’re standing in your kitchen wondering whether licking a postage stamp will knock you out of ketosis.

No wonder you’re rebelling.

Not every boundary is necessary just because somebody on the internet confidently announced it.

Sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is examine your rules.

Why am I doing this?

Does this actually help me?

Did I decide this based on my own experience?

Or did I inherit somebody else’s food fears?

Keto shouldn’t become a contest to see who can survive on the fewest ingredients.

The goal isn’t maximum restriction.

The goal is finding the boundaries that give you the most freedom.

Freedom from constant hunger.

Freedom from cravings.

Freedom from obsessing about food.

Freedom to participate in your life instead of constantly managing your next meal.

Keep the boundaries that buy you something valuable.

Question the ones that don’t.

Remember Who Made the Rule

Imagine deciding you want to save money for your dream vacation.

You make a budget.

You stop buying things you don’t really need.

Three weeks later you’re standing in Target holding a $78 decorative basket yelling:

“I’M SICK OF THIS BUDGET CONTROLLING MY LIFE.”

Friend, the budget didn’t break into your house.

You made it because you wanted something more.

That’s the part we forget.

You didn’t start changing your food because you wanted fewer food choices.

You wanted more life choices.

You wanted to feel better.

You wanted energy.

You wanted confidence.

You wanted to move more easily.

You wanted better health.

You wanted to stop starting over every Monday.

You wanted to walk into a room without immediately wondering what food was available.

You wanted something badly enough that you were willing to make a trade.

Then enough time passed that you remembered the trade…and forgot what you were buying with it.

So Before You Rebel…

The next time you find yourself staring at something thinking:

I’m an adult.

I can eat whatever I want.

I’m tired of telling myself no.

Don’t shame yourself.

Don’t panic.

Don’t immediately declare that you’ve “fallen off the wagon.”

Just ask: “What exactly am I rebelling against?”

Maybe you’re rebelling against an unnecessary rule.

Great.

Change it.

But maybe you’re rebelling against a boundary that has quietly been making your life better.

Maybe you’re angry at yesterday’s version of you—the one who remembered exactly how miserable things had gotten and finally decided: Enough.

She wasn’t trying to control you.

She wasn’t trying to punish you.

She wasn’t trying to make your life smaller.

She was trying to get you somewhere.

Don’t forget where.

Because you are absolutely right about one thing: Nobody gets to tell you what you can eat.

You can eat the bread.

You can order the fries.

You can have the cake.

You can abandon every boundary you’ve made.

You are completely free.

But maybe that’s not the freedom you were actually looking for.

Maybe freedom isn’t finally getting to eat whatever you want.

Maybe freedom is standing in front of something that used to call your name, bargain with you, occupy your thoughts and repeatedly pull you back into the same cycle…

and realizing:

Nobody is stopping me.

Nobody is making me.

I could eat it.

I just don’t need to anymore.

And perhaps that’s when you discover that saying “no” wasn’t the thing taking away your freedom.

It was proof that you finally had some.

Not me.

I’d rather hit snooze.

I’d rather eat the cookie.

I’d rather believe that tomorrow’s version of me will magically have more motivation than today’s.

She won’t.

The older I get, the more I realize something that has changed the way I approach almost everything…

Life doesn’t hand out an easy option.

It hands out options with different consequences.

You can struggle to get up and take a walk…

…or struggle to catch your breath climbing a flight of stairs.

You can struggle to say no to the drive-thru…

…or struggle with the frustration of your jeans getting tighter every month.

You can struggle through the first couple weeks of keto while your body learns a new way of fueling itself…

…or struggle with the afternoon energy crash that has you searching for another cup of coffee and something sweet.

Neither choice is effortless.

One just gives you something back.

That’s where I think so many of us get stuck.

We’re constantly looking for the path that doesn’t require sacrifice.

The perfect diet.

The perfect supplement.

The magic pill.

The secret hack.

But what if there isn’t one?

What if success simply belongs to the people who stop looking for a life without challenges and start choosing challenges with a payoff?

I think about this every time someone tells me, “I could never give up bread.”

Maybe not.

But could you give up another decade of feeling exhausted?

Could you give up another year of saying, “I’ll start Monday?”

Could you give up another vacation hiding from the camera?

Those are sacrifices too.

We just don’t call them that because we’ve gotten used to carrying them.

Here’s something else I’ve learned…

We waste an incredible amount of energy worrying about things that don’t deserve it.

What your coworker thinks because you skipped the birthday cake.

Whether your cousin says keto is unhealthy.

Whether your neighbor insists that “everything in moderation” is the only way.

You know what?

They’re not living in your body.

They’re not waking up with your aches.

They’re not sitting in your doctor’s office hearing your lab results.

You are.

So why are they getting a vote?

Imagine if you took all the mental energy you spend defending your choices and poured it into simply making your next meal.

Not tomorrow.

Not after vacation.

Not after the holidays.

Just the next meal.

Because here’s the funny thing about success…

It rarely shows up because someone made one heroic decision.

It shows up because ordinary people kept making ordinary good decisions when nobody was watching.

Choosing eggs instead of cereal.

Steak instead of fries.

Water instead of soda.

Going for a walk instead of scrolling for another hour.

None of those moments feel life-changing.

Until you look back six months later and realize they changed your life.

If you’re waiting for keto to become easy, you might be waiting forever.

But if you stop expecting easy and start asking yourself, “Which struggle leaves Future Me in a better place?” you’ll make different choices.

Not because they’re painless.

Because they’re worth it.

And that’s the struggle I want to have.

The one that gives me more energy.

The one that lets me move without pain.

The one that helps me show up for the people I love.

The one that gives me my life back.

If I’m going to struggle either way…

I might as well choose the struggle that pays me back.

In the grocery store.

In the drive-thru.

Sometimes it happens before your feet even hit the floor in the morning.

It’s a conversation nobody else hears.

“Today’s going to be different.”

“Well… unless someone brings donuts to work.”

“I’ll stay keto… unless we decide to go out to dinner.”

“I’ll be good… but if I mess up, I’ll just start again tomorrow.”

By 8:00 a.m., you’ve already given yourself permission to quit.

I know because I used to do it every single day.

Not out loud.

Inside my own head.

For years, I thought I had a food problem.

Now I realize I had a negotiation problem.

Every morning, I’d sit down at the bargaining table with my food addiction.

And somehow…

…it won every single time.

It always had another argument.

“One cookie won’t matter.”

“You’ve been good all week.”

“Life is short.”

“You’ll never be able to do this forever anyway.”

“Just start again Monday.”

Here’s the funny thing.

My food addiction never kept its promises.

Not once.

It promised one bite.

It wanted ten.

It promised one meal.

It wanted the whole weekend.

It promised I’d feel better.

I always felt worse.

Ashamed.

Bloated.

Inflamed.

Angry that I had done it again.

So one day, I stopped trying to win the argument.

I stopped arguing altogether.

Because you don’t negotiate with something that’s trying to destroy your future.

You don’t bargain with alcoholism.

You don’t compromise with cigarettes.

So why was I trying to compromise with the very foods that kept me trapped for decades?

That realization changed everything.

Instead of waking up and asking…

“Will I stay keto today?”

I started waking up already knowing the answer.

There was nothing left to debate.

No courtroom.

No closing arguments.

No “maybe.”

Just…

“This is how I eat now.”

And something surprising happened.

My days became easier.

Not because cravings disappeared.

Not because life got less stressful.

Not because birthday cake stopped showing up in the break room.

They became easier because I had already made my biggest decision before my food addiction had a chance to open its mouth.

I’ve learned something after losing more than 170 pounds.

The hardest part of keto isn’t saying no to sugar.

It’s saying no to the conversation.

Because once you start debating with your addiction, you’ve already given it a seat at the table.

Today, don’t ask yourself if you’re going to stay on plan.

That question invites a debate.

Instead, decide right now.

Wake up again tomorrow with your answer already made.

Your food addiction may still knock on the door.

It just doesn’t get to come inside.

And that…

That might be the most freeing feeling you’ll ever experience.

Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.

The internet has taken a beautifully simple way of eating and turned it into something that feels like you need a biology degree just to order lunch.

You’ll hear people arguing over ketone levels.

You’ll be told you need to calculate seventeen different macros.

Someone will insist you can’t eat onions. Someone else will tell you fruit is poison. Another person will convince you that unless every piece of meat is grass-finished and every egg came from a chicken with a trust fund, you’re doing keto wrong.

No wonder people quit before they even begin.

Joe and I have been living this lifestyle for years. We’ve helped thousands of people lose weight, improve their health, and take back control of their lives.

And if there’s one lesson we’ve learned, it’s this:

Consistency beats complexity every single time.

Stop Trying to Learn Everything

One of the biggest mistakes people make is believing they need to know everything before they can start.

You don’t.

You don’t need to understand ketosis on a cellular level.

You don’t need to know every ingredient that has ever existed.

You don’t need to listen to fifty different YouTube experts before you make dinner tonight.

You simply need to make one better choice than you made yesterday.

That’s how this starts.

Not with perfection.

With one meal.

Here’s the Easiest Rule You’ll Ever Follow

Instead of asking yourself, “Can I eat this?”

Ask yourself,

“Where’s my protein?”

That’s the question that changed everything for us.

When your meal starts with protein, everything else tends to fall into place.

Eggs.

Beef.

Chicken.

Pork.

Turkey.

Fish.

Shrimp.

Start there.

Then, if you want, pair that protein with a vegetable that grows above the ground.

Broccoli.

Green beans.

Cauliflower.

Zucchini.

Asparagus.

Salad.

Brussels sprouts.

Cook them in butter or olive oil if you enjoy them that way.

Congratulations. You just made a keto meal.

Stop Looking for Keto Versions of Junk Food

This is where so many people get stuck.

They spend their first month trying to recreate everything they’re trying to leave behind.

Keto bread.

Keto donuts.

Keto cookies.

Keto cereal.

Keto candy.

I understand why.

Food isn’t just fuel. It’s comfort. It’s tradition. It’s celebration. It’s habit.

But if every day is spent trying to imitate the foods that contributed to poor health in the first place, you’re never really giving yourself the opportunity to build a new relationship with food.

Instead of asking, “How do I make pizza keto?”

Try asking,

“What if dinner was just a really good steak?”

Sometimes the simplest meal is also the most satisfying.

Don’t Fear Fat…But Don’t Worship It Either

When keto became popular, somewhere along the way people started believing they needed to drink butter.

You don’t.

Fat isn’t a challenge to see how much you can consume.

It’s a tool.

It helps food taste better.

It keeps you satisfied between meals.

But you don’t have to force it.

Eat the chicken thighs.

Enjoy the ribeye.

Cook with butter.

Have some avocado if you like it.

Then move on with your day.

Your Grocery List Doesn’t Need to Be Fancy

Walk into any grocery store and head to the outside aisles.

Pick up eggs.

Ground beef.

Chicken thighs.

Pork chops.

Steak if it’s on sale.

Butter.

Cheese.

Heavy cream.

Broccoli.

Cauliflower.

Salad.

That’s enough food to eat incredibly well for the week.

Read Labels…But Don’t Obsess

Yes, carbohydrates matter. Aim for 20 total carbs a day, (not net carbs. That’s just a food marketing scam to sell products marketed to someone who is trying to keep their carbs low.)

But don’t spend thirty minutes standing in the grocery aisle trying to decide between two brands that differ by one gram of carbs.

That isn’t what’s keeping people unhealthy.

Focus on the big wins first.

Skip the sugary drinks.

Skip the bread.

Skip the pasta.

Skip the rice.

Skip the potatoes.

Skip the desserts.

Those changes alone can dramatically reduce your carbohydrate intake.

Notice What Else Wasn’t on the Grocery List

Protein bars.

Keto cereal.

Keto cookies.

Keto chips.

You don’t need them to be successful.

Expect Your Body to Complain

Let’s be honest.

The first few days may not feel amazing.

You may crave sugar.

You may feel tired.

You may even wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake.

You haven’t.

Your body has spent years depending on carbohydrates for quick energy. You’re asking it to switch to another fuel source. That’s a big adjustment.

Drink plenty of water.

Use sugar-free electrolytes like SaltT, LMNT or Redmond Relyte. Don’t bother with the Gatorade or Powerade Zero drinks.

Salt your food.

Be patient.

Don’t mistake temporary discomfort for failure.

Stop Chasing Numbers

This may surprise some people coming from me.

I don’t care what your ketone meter says if your life is changing.

Are your clothes fitting differently?

Do you have more energy?

Are your cravings quieter?

Is your blood sugar improving?

Do you feel hopeful again?

Those are the numbers that matter.

Ketones are interesting.

Health is the goal.

The Secret No One Likes to Hear

People often ask us what the secret is.

They’re expecting a supplement.

A hack.

A magic macro ratio.

But the answer is almost disappointingly simple.

The people who succeed are usually the people willing to be a little boring.

Eggs for breakfast.

A burger without the bun for lunch.

Chicken and vegetables for dinner.

Tomorrow?

Probably something very similar.

Not because they have to.

Because they’ve discovered something incredible.

When food stops running your life, life gets a whole lot bigger.

Your First Goal Isn’t Weight Loss

I know. That sounds strange. But hear me out.

Your first goal isn’t to lose twenty pounds.

It’s to prove to yourself that you can keep one promise.

The promise that your next meal will move you toward health instead of away from it.

Then make that promise again at dinner.

Then tomorrow morning.

One meal becomes one day.

One day becomes one week.

One week becomes one month.

And one month becomes a life that looks nothing like the one you thought you were stuck with.

That’s how Joe and I did it.

Not perfectly.

Not all at once.

Just one simple meal at a time.

If you’re waiting until you know everything, you’ll never begin.

If you’re waiting for motivation, it will eventually disappear.

But if you’re willing to make your next meal simple, you can start today.

And sometimes that’s all it takes to change everything.

That’s when people make resolutions, buy gym memberships, and promise themselves that this will be the year everything changes.

But if you ask me, August is far more important.

August is the crossroads.

It’s the month where summer begins fading, routines start shifting, and life gradually speeds up again. School starts. Vacations end. Calendars fill. Before you know it, Halloween decorations are out, Thanksgiving is around the corner, Christmas arrives, and suddenly you’re wondering where the last five months went.

Many people don’t gain weight because of what happens between Thanksgiving and New Year’s.

They gain weight because they slowly lose their footing in August.

The good news?

The opposite is also true.

If you use August to reset your habits, you’ll often find the rest of the year becomes much easier.

Don’t Wait for Monday. Don’t Wait for September.

One of the biggest lies we tell ourselves is that we’ll start “when life settles down.”

Here’s the problem: Life rarely settles down.

There’s always another birthday, another vacation, another stressful week at work, another family gathering, another holiday.

Healthy people aren’t people who have perfect schedules.

They’re people who make healthy decisions in imperfect schedules.

You don’t need the perfect starting date.

You just need your next meal.

Build Your Fall Routine Before Fall Arrives

Your future self is built by today’s routines.

Instead of waiting until school starts or Labor Day, decide now:

What time will you wake up?

When will you walk?

What days will you exercise?

When will you prepare meals?

How much sleep will you protect?

Don’t leave these decisions until life becomes hectic.

Make them while things are still relatively calm.

Let Nature Remind You

One of my favorite things about August is the abundance of real food.

Gardens are overflowing.

Farmers’ markets are packed with colorful produce.

Even if you follow keto or carnivore, there’s something refreshing about seeing food in its natural form. It reminds us that nourishment doesn’t come from a box with a cartoon character on the front.

Real food still exists.

Our bodies still recognize it.

And our health still improves when we choose it more often.

Don’t Let Vacation Eating Become Everyday Eating

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying vacation.

The problem happens when vacation habits come home with us.

The extra desserts.

The drive-thru breakfasts.

The sugary coffee every morning.

The nightly snacks because “summer isn’t over yet.”

One special meal doesn’t change your health.

Repeated choices do.

Ask yourself honestly:

“Am I still celebrating…or have I simply forgotten to stop?”

Protect Your Sleep

August often brings later nights, changing schedules, and early mornings.

Poor sleep affects far more than your energy.

It influences hunger, cravings, patience, decision-making, and your desire to move your body.

When you’re exhausted, your brain naturally looks for quick energy.

Usually, that’s sugar.

One of the healthiest things you can do this month isn’t buying another supplement.

It’s going to bed.

Walk More Than You Think You Need To

Movement doesn’t have to be complicated.

Before the busy season arrives, make walking your default.

Walk after dinner.

Walk while talking on the phone.

Walk with your spouse.

Walk while listening to a podcast.

Those small daily lower stress, improve blood sugar regulation, support cardiovascular health, and give your mind room to breathe.

Sometimes your body isn’t asking for more food.

It’s asking you to move.

Stop Negotiating With Yourself

We’ve all done it.

“I’ll start next week.”

“I’ve already messed today up.”

“I’ll get serious after Labor Day.”

Every delay strengthens the habit you’re trying to break.

Every healthy choice strengthens the person you’re becoming.

You don’t have to feel motivated.

You simply have to stop arguing with yourself.

Decide.

Then do the next right thing.

Remember That Progress Is Boring

Social media celebrates dramatic transformations.

Real life is built on ordinary Tuesdays.

It’s making breakfast instead of skipping it.

Choosing water instead of soda.

Going to bed when you’d rather scroll.

Walking when nobody is watching.

Preparing tomorrow’s lunch tonight.

None of those moments feel life-changing.

But together they change a life.

Think Beyond August

Here’s what many people don’t realize.

The habits you establish this month often determine how you experience the holidays.

If you’re already eating well, moving consistently, sleeping enough, and feeling better by October, Thanksgiving becomes one meal—not the beginning of a three-month slide.

If you’re already struggling in August, the holidays simply magnify it.

You don’t prepare for the holidays in November.

You prepare for them now.

August Isn’t Asking You To Become A Different Person Overnight

It’s asking you to become a little more intentional today than you were yesterday.

Choose one healthy meal.

Take one walk.

Go to bed a little earlier.

Drink another glass of water.

Put one ultra-processed food back on the shelf.

Those decisions may seem insignificant.

But every healthy choice is a vote for the person you want to become.

The calendar is quietly turning toward fall.

The question isn’t whether the seasons will change.

They will.

The question is whether you’ll drift with them…or use this month to build the habits that will carry you through the rest of the year.

Because the strongest finish to the year doesn’t begin in December.

It begins in August.

Not groceries.

Not recipes.

Not ketone meters.

They bring decades of disappointment.

They bring memories of stepping on the scale with hope and walking away defeated.

They bring voices that said they just needed more willpower.

They bring guilt over the foods they fed their families because they truly believed they were making healthy choices.

And they bring a quiet fear that this will become one more chapter in a lifetime of failed diets.

If that’s you, I want you to know something before you read another word: This isn’t about what you ate. It’s about what you’re still carrying.

The Invisible Weight

When people talk about losing weight, they usually mean body fat.

But there is another kind of weight that doesn’t show up on a scale.

The weight of believing you’re broken.

The weight of feeling like you failed every diet you’ve ever tried.

The weight of wondering why everyone else seemed to have self-control except you.

The weight of looking in the mirror and seeing someone you’ve spent years criticizing.

That emotional weight can be heavier than anything your body has ever carried.

And here’s what makes it so dangerous: if you don’t let it go, you’ll carry it into every new attempt to get healthy.

You’ll approach keto expecting failure before you’ve even started.

You’ll interpret every stall as proof that “nothing ever works.”

You’ll see one off-plan meal as evidence that you’ve ruined everything.

You’ll quit—not because keto failed—but because your past convinced you it always ends the same way.

You Were Trying to Get Healthy

Most people don’t gain weight because they wake up one morning and decide they no longer care.

Quite the opposite.

Most people have spent years trying.

You counted calories.

You bought low-fat foods.

You switched to whole grains.

You ate margarine instead of butter.

You drank fruit juice because it was “natural.”

You chose cereal because the box said it was heart healthy.

You bought the foods with the healthiest-looking labels.

You followed the advice that was on television, in magazines, in doctor’s offices, at school, and in grocery store aisles.

You weren’t trying to sabotage yourself.

You were trying to be healthy.

Some of those choices may have helped.

Some may not have.

But none of them make you foolish.

They simply remind us that nutrition is complicated, recommendations evolve, and most of us make decisions based on the information we have at the time.

Stop Judging Yesterday with Today’s Knowledge

One of the easiest things to do is look backward with today’s understanding.

“I can’t believe I used to eat that.”

“I should have known better.”

“I wish someone had told me.”

But think about every area of your life.

There are things you know today that you didn’t know ten years ago.

That doesn’t make the younger version of you stupid.

It makes you human.

Growth is supposed to change us.

Imagine criticizing a first grader for not understanding calculus.

Or being angry that you couldn’t use a smartphone before smartphones existed.

We naturally give ourselves grace when it comes to learning almost everything—except nutrition.

Somehow we expect ourselves to have known things we had never been taught.

That’s not fair.

The Search for Someone to Blame

It’s natural to wonder how things ended up this way.

Maybe you feel frustrated with food companies.

Maybe you’re disappointed by diet programs that promised quick fixes.

Maybe you wish the nutrition advice you received had been different.

Those feelings are understandable.

But here’s the question that matters: Does staying angry help you heal?

Eventually every health journey reaches a crossroads.

One path spends years asking, “Who was wrong?”

The other asks, “What can I do differently starting today?”

Only one of those paths changes your future.

The Guilt We Carry as Parents

This may be the hardest part of the journey.

Many parents discover a new way of eating and immediately begin replaying years of family dinners in their minds.

“I let them drink soda.”

“I packed cookies in their lunches.”

“I bought the cereal with cartoon characters.”

“I thought granola bars were healthy.”

“I rewarded good behavior with ice cream.”

Then comes the question that hurts the most: “Did I do this to my kids?”

Here’s what I want you to remember.

You didn’t feed your children out of neglect.

You fed them out of love.

You bought what you believed was best.

You trusted the labels.

You trusted the commercials.

You trusted the recommendations.

You trusted the experts.

You were doing exactly what loving parents do: They make the best decisions they can with the information they have.

Now you know more.

So you’ll do differently.

That’s not failure.

That’s growth.

The Greatest Gift You Can Give Your Children

Your children don’t need parents who constantly apologize for the past.

They need parents who model a healthier future.

Cook meals together.

Teach them that food comes from farms, not factories.

Help them understand hunger instead of teaching them to fear it.

Eat because your body needs nourishment, not because every emotion requires a snack.

Celebrate birthdays without believing cake is the reason people gather.

Show them that vegetables aren’t punishment and dessert isn’t a reward.

Most importantly, let them see you enjoying life.

Not obsessing over every bite.

Not standing on the scale every morning.

Not calling yourself fat in front of the mirror.

Children learn more from what we demonstrate than what we explain.

If they see peace around food, they’ll be far more likely to develop peace around food themselves.

Don’t Replace One Prison with Another

One of the greatest dangers after finding keto is replacing one unhealthy relationship with food with another.

Some people become terrified of every carbohydrate.

Some become obsessed with perfection.

Some measure their success entirely by the number on the scale.

That’s still letting food control your life.

Keto isn’t meant to become another prison.

It’s meant to create freedom.

Freedom from constant cravings.

Freedom from thinking about food every hour.

Freedom from believing your entire day is ruined because of one imperfect meal.

Real health isn’t built on perfection.

It’s built on consistency.

Your Past Has Value

Here’s the beautiful part.

None of those failed diets were completely wasted.

They taught you persistence.

They taught you compassion for others who struggle.

They taught you what doesn’t work for your body.

They brought you here.

Without those experiences, you might never have kept searching.

You might have settled.

Instead, you’re still willing to learn.

That’s not failure.

That’s resilience.

Put the Baggage Down

Imagine trying to climb a mountain while carrying a backpack filled with bricks.

Every step feels harder than it should.

Not because you’re weak.