What I Learned About Nutrition After Food Made Me Sick

Sometimes, your body tries to get your attention long before you realize something needs to change.

It starts quietly. Something feels a little different. You notice a change here, a discomfort there, but you find a reason to explain it away. You get older. Your body changes. Life happens. You adjust and keep moving.

Until one day, your body makes it impossible to ignore what has been happening.

That is what happened to me.

For several months, I had been feeling heavy in my body. Getting up after sitting for a while was uncomfortable. My joints felt stiff, and sometimes I had to take a few steps before I could move normally. I attributed much of it to menopause. I had been in menopause for about two years, and I assumed these changes were simply part of getting older.

I had also noticed changes in my weight and where I was carrying fat. My chin, back, and stomach were different, but I didn't think much about it beyond attributing it to age and hormones.

Then came the hives.

They had been appearing and disappearing for months, but I had not paid enough attention to the pattern. Then one day, after getting out of a bubble bath, I noticed that my right knee was swollen to the size of a baseball. The swelling and hives were no longer something I could casually dismiss.

I started researching.

I made changes to what I was eating, trying to figure out what was happening in my body. During that period, I also experienced heart palpitations that frightened me enough to call emergency medical services. I eventually went to the emergency room, where I had bloodwork done. One of the things I noticed in my results was a potassium level of 3.4, which was slightly below the reference range shown in my records.

I began researching that, too.

Then another frightening experience happened. After eating, I developed swelling around my jaw and lip. I went to the emergency room and was treated for an allergic reaction. I left with an EpiPen and medication to address the inflammation.

At the pharmacy, while picking up my EpiPen, I had a panic attack.

Think about that for a moment.

I had reached a point where I was afraid of what might happen when I ate. I had been sent home with an EpiPen because of the reactions I was experiencing, and I did not know what foods I could eat without worrying about what might happen next.

Something had to change.

My relationship with food was about to change in a way I never could have anticipated.

I had spent years eating what I believed was a healthy diet. I ate plenty of plants, fruits, vegetables, grains, and dairy. I thought I was doing what I was supposed to do.

But my experience forced me to ask a question I had never seriously considered before.

What if the way I was eating was not working for my body?

That question sent me down a path of research, observation, and decisions that continue to shape how I think about nutrition today.

This is not an article about telling you what to eat. It is about sharing what happened to me, what I began to question, and what I learned as I tried to understand my own body.

Your body is different from mine. Your experience will be different from mine.

But if you have ever felt that something was not right and could not quite put your finger on it, I hope my experience encourages you to pay closer attention.

The Foods I Had to Reconsider

One of the first things I had to confront was the possibility that foods I had considered healthy were not agreeing with me.

I had eaten plants for years. Tomatoes, bell peppers, avocados, bananas, and other fruits and vegetables were regular parts of my diet. I also consumed dairy and grains.

These were not foods I had been afraid of. They were foods I had come to understand as part of a healthy way of eating.

But when I started looking at the relationship between food and my symptoms, I began questioning whether the foods I had always eaten were actually working for me.

I started researching histamine, foods that contain histamine, and foods that may contribute to histamine release in some people. I began looking more closely at the foods I was eating and the reactions I seemed to experience afterward.

I also started reconsidering dairy.

As I looked back at my eating habits and paid attention to how I felt, I came to believe that dairy was a major contributor to the inflammation I was experiencing. I began looking at the compounds found in plants, fruits, vegetables, and grains, and how those compounds might affect different bodies differently.

This was a significant shift in my thinking.

I had been taught, like many people, to think about food in broad categories. Vegetables are healthy. Fruit is healthy. Whole grains are healthy. Dairy provides nutrients.

But what does it mean for a food to be healthy if the person eating it consistently feels worse after consuming it?

That was the question I wanted to answer for myself.

I began to understand that the conversation around nutrition is more complicated than simply putting foods into categories of good and bad. Foods contain different nutrients and compounds, and people can respond to them differently. A food that works well for one person may not work as well for another.

That does not mean everyone needs to stop eating plants, grains, or dairy. It means I could no longer assume that what was recommended generally was automatically right for me personally.

I needed to pay attention to my own experience.

I needed to look at the ingredients in my food, learn what they were, and understand why I was eating them in the first place.

Most importantly, I needed to stop assuming that because I had always eaten something, I had to keep eating it.

Learning to Hear What My Body Has Been Saying

Looking back, I realize my body had been trying to communicate with me for a very long time.

My mother used to tell me that when I was a child, I would break out after eating vegetables. As an adult, I sometimes ate plants and then took an antihistamine to keep my skin from breaking out.

I had become accustomed to managing the reaction rather than questioning the food that might have contributed to it.

I did not stop to ask myself why I was eating something that seemed to cause a reaction in the first place.

That is one of the things I have been reflecting on throughout this experience. How often do we become so accustomed to managing discomfort that we never question what might be contributing to it?

We take something for one symptom. We find another way to manage another symptom. We adjust our routines around how we feel.

And because we can keep functioning, we assume everything is fine.

Meanwhile, the body keeps communicating.

In my case, the hives had been coming and going for months. I did not pay enough attention until the reaction became so pronounced that I could not ignore it.

The same thing happened with my digestion.

I had watched videos of people who said changing to a plant-based or raw vegan diet had transformed their health. I was interested in what they had experienced, so I tried eating more plant-based meals myself.

But I struggled to get through three or four bites without my stomach knotting up.

That got my attention.

I started looking into the carnivore diet, and I cautiously tried chicken. I ate it, digested it, and did not experience the same reaction I had been noticing with certain other foods.

I took that as a signal to pay closer attention to how my body responded to animal protein.

Over the following weeks, I began noticing things I might previously have overlooked. I would feel my stomach turning while eating, or I would start feeling uncomfortable before I had finished a meal. I learned to stop and pay attention rather than automatically continue eating because the food was on my plate.

I also began reconsidering foods I loved to cook with. Onion and garlic were regular ingredients in my kitchen, but I noticed that bloating had become a daily experience. Avocados and bananas, both foods I had eaten regularly, seemed to coincide with some of the reactions I was experiencing.

I began researching the compounds in these foods, including histamine, and looking into how different people may respond to them.

The more I learned, the more I realized how little attention I had paid to the information my own body was giving me.

I had been looking at food through the lens of what I had been told was healthy. Now I was looking at food through the lens of my actual experience.

That was a very different way of thinking.

I am still learning what my body tolerates, and I am still researching. But one thing has changed: I no longer believe I have to ignore what I am experiencing just because a food has a reputation for being healthy.

My body is part of the conversation.

And I need to listen.

What We Put In and On Our Bodies Matters

My experience with food also made me look more closely at other things I put in and on my body.

I had already been intentional about skincare and laundry detergent because my skin has been sensitive. But I began thinking more broadly about the ingredients in products I used every day.

Skincare. Haircare. Makeup. Nail polish. Personal care products. Supplements.

How much attention do we pay to the ingredients in these products?

When I first started experiencing changes associated with menopause, I considered different supplements, including products intended to help with hair concerns. As I researched them, I noticed how many ingredients could appear in a single supplement.

I started asking questions.

What is this ingredient? Why is it there? What purpose does it serve? Is it an active ingredient, a preservative, a coloring agent, or something used to help the product hold its form?

I wanted to understand what I was buying instead of assuming that a product was good for me simply because it was marketed for a particular benefit.

That same thinking carried into my skincare and haircare routines.

For my skin, I prefer simple products. I use raw shea butter, organic cocoa butter, or organic castor oil. I look for products with one ingredient whenever possible, and I pay attention to whether an ingredient is listed as pure.

With my hair, I prefer to keep things simple, too. I have used Castile soap diluted with water as shampoo, and I find that approach easier on my hair. I do not use a traditional rinse-out conditioner. I prefer a leave-in conditioner with a short ingredient list.

These are the choices that work for me and fit my preferences. Someone else's hair or skin may respond differently.

But the larger point is that I have become much more interested in understanding what is in the products I use regularly.

I also pay closer attention to food labels. I want to know what is in the food I am eating, particularly when a product contains a long list of ingredients I do not recognize or understand.

That includes additives, gums, preservatives, dyes, and ingredients used to help products maintain their texture or consistency. I have been researching these ingredients because I want to understand their purpose and decide which ones I am comfortable using.

I do not think we should automatically assume that every unfamiliar ingredient is harmful. I do think we should know what we are buying and why it is there.

We have access to so much information now. If you are looking at a food label or a personal care product and see an ingredient you do not recognize, research it. Ask questions. Look at reliable sources. Use your favorite AI tool to help you understand what an ingredient does, then investigate further.

Do not let the marketing on the front of a package make the decision for you.

The more intentional I have become about what I put in and on my body, the more important it has become to me to understand what I am choosing.

Where Our Food Comes From Matters

I have also learned that paying attention to ingredients is only part of the conversation. We should also be paying attention to where our food comes from, how it is produced, and what goes into producing it.

Whether you eat a plant-based diet, consume dairy, eat meat, or include eggs in your diet, I encourage you to do your research. Be intentional about the brands you purchase and the standards behind the products you bring into your home.

Plants and Produce

If you eat a lot of fruits and vegetables, take the time to learn about the farms and producers supplying your food. If you are buying organic, understand what that certification means and what standards producers are required to meet. I personally prefer to be intentional about where I shop and the quality standards behind the products I choose.

Dairy

If you consume milk, cheese, butter, or other dairy products, research the brands you purchase. Learn about their farming practices, how their animals are raised, and the standards behind the labels on their products. I have found that shopping at stores that specialize in natural and organic products gives me access to brands I can research more closely.

Meat

When it comes to meat, I have become particularly selective about where I purchase it. I tend to gravitate toward stores such as Sprouts and Natural Grocers, along with specialty retailers like Thrive Market, where I can explore brands that align with my preferences. I am not suggesting that every brand sold in a big-box store is untrustworthy. I have simply decided that I want to be more intentional about the sources of my meat and the practices behind its production.

Eggs

Eggs have taught me an especially important lesson. For years, I avoided genetically modified corn and made a point of purchasing organic corn. Yet I later discovered, through my own research, that the eggs I had been eating came from pasture-raised hens whose feed could include genetically modified corn.

That made me look at egg labels differently.

I now look for eggs labeled organic and free-range or organic and pasture-raised, and I research the specific brand and its farming practices. Organic certification includes requirements for feed, including restrictions on genetically modified ingredients, as well as standards for outdoor access. The terms free-range and pasture-raised describe different aspects of how hens are raised, so I want to understand what each label actually means before making my decision.

Why does this matter to me? Because what they eat matters to me, too. I have spent years being intentional about the foods I consume, and I want that same level of intention to extend to the food that produces the foods I eat.

Ultimately, I have decided that I would rather take the time to research a brand, understand its practices, and make an informed decision than choose a product based solely on its label or its marketing.

Again, I am sharing my personal approach, not telling everyone that they must shop where I shop or buy the exact products I buy. My point is that we have choices, and I believe those choices deserve our attention.

Read the labels. Research the brands. Understand the standards. Know where your food comes from.

That is another part of learning to be intentional about what we put into our bodies.

Who Decided What We Should Eat?

When I started changing my diet, I became concerned about something else: the nutrients I was supposed to be getting every day.

I had spent years paying attention to recommended daily values, particularly after menopause. I wanted to make sure I was getting what my body needed, so I had taken multivitamins and other supplements for years.

But as I began questioning my food choices, I also started questioning the recommendations I had been following.

Where did these recommendations come from? How were they established? And did the amounts recommended for a population necessarily tell me what my own body needed?

I began researching recommended daily allowances and daily values. I learned that these numbers serve different purposes, and that recommended dietary allowances are generally designed to meet the needs of nearly all healthy people in a particular age and sex group.

That made me think more carefully about how I was interpreting the numbers.

A recommendation developed for a population is useful information. But I wanted to understand how it applied to me, particularly as I reconsidered which foods I was eating.

Calcium was one of the nutrients that caught my attention.

I wanted to understand how I could get the amounts I had been told I needed from natural food sources. As I researched, I found myself looking at fortified foods and asking why it seemed so difficult to reach certain recommended amounts without relying on products that had been supplemented with additional nutrients.

That raised more questions for me.

I came across a book called The Calcium Lie. I had not read the book, but its title appeared at a time when I was already questioning what I had been taught about calcium. I took it as a moment that encouraged me to keep researching and trust that instinct to look more closely.

Fiber and vitamin B12 also became part of my research.

I was no longer interested in simply memorizing a list of nutrients and trying to reach every number. I wanted to understand the reasoning behind the recommendations, the role of each nutrient, and how my food choices fit into the picture.

Eventually, I decided to stop taking the multivitamins and other supplements I had been using and reconsider what I was doing.

My thinking was simple: I wanted to pay closer attention to the foods I could eat comfortably, how I felt, and what I was learning through my research.

I wanted to understand what I was putting into my body instead of continuing a routine simply because it was familiar.

I am not suggesting that everyone should stop taking supplements or disregard nutritional recommendations. I am saying that I began asking questions I had never asked before.

Who established this recommendation?

What information supports it?

How does it apply to my circumstances?

And what else do I need to understand before deciding what is right for me?

Those questions changed the way I approached nutrition.

I was no longer looking for someone to hand me a list of rules. I was learning how to investigate the information for myself.

Fasting, Overeating, and How Digestion Actually Works

As I continued researching nutrition, I started looking at not only what I was eating but also how often I was eating and how much I was consuming.

For a long time, I ate according to a schedule. I work from home, so it was easy to establish a routine around breakfast, lunch, and dinner. When it was time to eat, I ate.

But I began to recognize that I was often eating because it was time to eat, not necessarily because I was hungry.

I was also eating until I felt full, sometimes overly full.

I had to ask myself why.

Many of us grow up being told to finish everything on our plates. We hear that food should not be wasted, and we learn to keep eating even when we are no longer hungry. Over time, that habit can follow us into adulthood.

Then there is the size of the portions we are served. It is easy to become accustomed to eating a certain amount simply because that is what we have always put on our plates.

I began reducing my portions and paying closer attention to how I felt while eating. I learned that I did not have to finish a meal by forcing myself to eat past the point where I was comfortable. When I served myself an appropriate portion, I could finish my food without feeling overly full.

My eating habits began to change.

I now generally eat one meal a day, sometimes two, depending on my hunger and needs. I no longer feel the same need to eat simply because a particular time has arrived. I pay more attention to whether I am hungry and how I feel as I eat.

I also started researching hunger signals and the role of ghrelin, a hormone involved in signaling hunger. I wanted to understand more about how the body communicates hunger and fullness, and how digestion fits into the way we experience meals.

The more I learned, the more interested I became in giving my body time between meals rather than constantly eating throughout the day.

Fasting and What I Wanted to Learn

Fasting became another part of my research.

After my initial experience with food and the reactions I was having, I became interested in intermittent fasting, longer fasting periods, and the research surrounding autophagy.

Autophagy is a process through which cells break down and recycle components. I encountered claims suggesting that particular fasting durations could trigger or maximize this process. I wanted to understand more about what researchers know, what remains uncertain, and how fasting has been studied.

I decided to experiment with a 36-hour water fast.

My schedule was straightforward. I began at 6 p.m. on Saturday, ate nothing throughout Sunday, and ended the fast at 6 a.m. on Monday. I did this twice over a three-week period.

I could see and feel differences in my body, and the experience made me more interested in learning about fasting and how my body responded to it.

I am sharing what I tried and what I noticed, not teaching anyone how to fast or suggesting that the same experience will happen for everyone.

If you are interested in a 36-hour fast, research it carefully before deciding whether it is appropriate for you. If you take medication or are under a doctor's care, speak with your doctor before attempting a prolonged fast. Fasting is not suitable for everyone, and I am not a medical professional.

My interest in fasting was part of a larger effort to understand my body rather than continue eating out of habit.

Fiber, Bloating, and My Digestion

Fiber was another area where my personal experience made me question what I had assumed I needed.

I had heard the recommendations about getting enough fiber, but when I tried to reach around 25 grams a day, I experienced bloating and gas.

That was uncomfortable.

I began researching fiber, digestion, and bowel movements. I wanted to understand why I was experiencing these symptoms and whether I needed to approach fiber differently.

I learned that fiber tolerance varies and that different types of fiber can affect people differently. I also began paying closer attention to hydration, movement, and my own digestive patterns.

Hydration, Movement, and What I Learned About Constipation

For a long time, I was under the impression that I needed approximately 25 grams of fiber every day to prevent constipation. That was the recommendation I had heard, and I assumed reaching that number was necessary for my digestive system to function properly.

But my own experience has taught me to look more closely at hydration and movement.

I currently consume at least 50 ounces of water every day, and I make movement a regular part of my routine. I walk 10,000 steps or more while wearing an eight-pound weighted vest, typically five days a week and sometimes six or seven, depending on my schedule.

What I have observed is that hydration and movement appear to play a much more significant role in keeping me regular than the amount of fiber I consume. I have found that I do not need to push myself to reach 25 grams of fiber every day to maintain regular bowel movements.

This has been another reminder that nutrition involves more than counting nutrients and trying to meet recommended numbers. Hydration, physical activity, and individual digestive responses are also important parts of the picture.

I am learning to pay attention to what my body responds to and to recognize the habits that support my digestive health. For me, prioritizing water and consistent movement has become an important part of that process.

Slowing Down, Chewing, and Eating at My Own Pace

Another important lesson I have learned is the importance of slowing down when I eat and thoroughly chewing my food. Digestion begins in the mouth, where chewing breaks food into smaller pieces and mixes it with saliva to help prepare it for the next stages of digestion. Taking my time with meals has become an important part of how I approach eating.

I have also discovered that I personally prefer eating alone. When I eat alone, I do not feel rushed, and I can take as much time as I need to enjoy my food and chew it properly.

Food has a wonderful way of bringing people together, whether we are gathering around the dinner table at home or meeting friends and family at a restaurant. However, shared meals can sometimes create an unspoken pressure to finish eating at the same pace as everyone else. At home, I am often the last person still eating, and when dining out, conversation and the pace of the meal can make it feel as though I need to hurry.

For me, eating alone is a preference because it allows me to focus on my food and eat at a pace that feels right for my body. I recognize that everyone has different preferences when it comes to meals, but I believe we should never feel obligated to rush through eating just to keep up with others.

Even when eating with family or friends, I encourage taking your time, chewing your food thoroughly, and allowing yourself to finish at your own pace. Something as simple as slowing down and being more intentional about chewing can become a meaningful part of how we care for our digestive health.

I continue to learn that how I eat can be just as important to my experience as what I eat. Paying attention to my body's needs, allowing myself time to enjoy my meals, and making room for habits that support my digestion have all become part of my evolving relationship with food.

My experience has taught me that I cannot judge a food or a nutrient recommendation by the number on a chart alone. I need to understand the information, pay attention to my experience, and make informed decisions.

Learning to Feed Myself Differently

As my eating habits changed, so did the way I prepared food.

I began focusing on simple ingredients. I wanted to know what I was putting into my meals without having to work through a complicated list of ingredients every time I cooked.

Cooking with simple ingredients has made food preparation easier for me. It also gives me more control over what goes into my meals and allows me to pay closer attention to which foods I tolerate.

I am still interested in going out to eat. I enjoy the experience of visiting restaurants, and I do not intend to remove that part of my life. I simply want to be more intentional about where I eat and what I choose.

I have also found a new place for herbal tea in my routine.

When I previously felt the urge to eat, I would sometimes find myself reaching for something simply because I wanted to have something. Now, a warm mug of herbal tea can become part of that moment.

I enjoy spearmint, peppermint, lemon balm, and dandelion tea. Roasted dandelion root is one of my favorites because its flavor reminds me of coffee. I have also enjoyed teas from Organic India, particularly Tulsi Original, and Traditional Medicinals.

I prefer simple tea ingredients and pay attention to what I add to them. When I want something creamy, I look for options without the gums and additives I am trying to avoid.

Tea has also become a way to move away from a habit I once had with coffee. I used to make trips to drive-through coffee shops, but I have found that I can enjoy a warm drink at home without making every craving an excuse to buy something.

When Enjoying Coffee Becomes a Habit You Feel You Need

For me, there was a difference between enjoying coffee and feeling like I had to have it. I love a good iced mocha. There is nothing wrong with enjoying a favorite drink, visiting a coffee shop, or sitting down with a good cup of coffee and having a conversation. What I began to recognize in myself was that I wasn't always making a conscious choice to enjoy coffee. Sometimes, I felt compelled to get it. I would find myself going through a drive-through because I felt like I needed coffee, not because I had thoughtfully decided I wanted it.

I also started thinking about the difference between the coffee I was consuming and the experience surrounding it. At a coffee shop where quality matters, I can ask questions about the beans, learn more about where they come from, and enjoy the care that goes into preparing my drink. When I was going through a drive-through, I wasn't thinking about where the coffee beans came from or where the chocolate milk in my iced mocha was sourced. I was focused on getting the drink I felt I needed.

There is also something about the way these drinks have become part of our everyday culture. We see people walking around with their Seven Brew or Starbucks cups, and those drinks can become part of a daily routine, something we look forward to and identify with. I started asking myself whether I was genuinely choosing something I enjoyed or simply repeating a habit that had begun to feel necessary.

I still love a good iced mocha, but I can make them at home. I can choose my coffee beans intentionally, be mindful of the milk and other ingredients I use, and enjoy the drink without feeling compelled to make a daily trip to a drive-through. I don't have to give up something I love to change my relationship with it.

For me, this was about recognizing what addiction looked like in my own life. It wasn't simply that I enjoyed coffee. It was the feeling that I had to have it, the repeated trips, and the way the habit could take over a choice that I wanted to make more consciously. I wanted to move away from consuming things automatically and become more intentional about what I put into my body, where it came from, and why I was choosing it.

These may seem like small changes, but small changes add up. I am learning that nourishing myself is not just about what I eat. It is also about the habits I build around food and the choices I make throughout the day.

Sleep, Sunlight, and Getting Back in Rhythm

Food was not the only part of my routine that needed attention.

I also began looking at my sleep, the time I spent outdoors, and the rhythm of my days.

I used to eat late into the evening. Sometimes I would have dinner at eight or nine o'clock, go to bed feeling overly full, and then wake up throughout the night.

I had become accustomed to that pattern.

But as I began making changes to my eating habits, I decided to stop eating after 5 p.m. I might have water or herbal tea later in the evening, but I no longer make a meal or a snack part of my nighttime routine.

I also started spending time outside in the morning.

I had been researching the relationship between sunlight, circadian rhythms, and sleep. Morning light helps signal to the body that it is time to be awake, and light exposure throughout the day and darkness at night play important roles in regulating our sleep-wake cycle.

I became interested in the idea of living in a way that better reflects those natural rhythms.

Now I make a point of going outside multiple times in the morning to get natural light. I also began establishing a consistent bedtime.

I aim to be in bed by 9:30 p.m., and I have found that I am sleeping through the night and waking naturally around 4 a.m. after what feels like a full night's rest.

That has been a noticeable change for me.

I am also thinking more about seasonal rhythms, how daylight changes throughout the year, and how those changes influence our daily routines.

We live in a world where we can stay awake late into the night with lights, screens, and constant activity. It is easy to lose touch with the difference between daytime and nighttime.

I began asking myself what it would look like to be more intentional about that difference.

For me, that means getting outside in the morning, maintaining a consistent sleep schedule, and allowing my evenings to become quieter rather than continuing to eat and stay active late into the night.

I am not suggesting that everyone needs to wake up at 4 a.m. or follow my exact schedule. I am sharing what has worked for me and what I have learned about the importance of routine.

Sometimes, changing your health habits means looking beyond the obvious.

It means considering when you eat, when you sleep, how much daylight you experience, and whether the way you live supports the kind of rest and rhythm you want for your body.

What I'm Still Figuring Out

Not everything has been settled for me.

There are still areas of nutrition where I am researching, comparing information, and deciding what makes sense for my body.

Oils and fats are one of those areas.

I have watched videos and read different perspectives about dietary fat, cholesterol, and the role of animal foods in a person's diet. I came across a cardiologist who had previously followed a vegan diet and later changed the way she ate, incorporating meat and lower-carbohydrate vegetables.

Her experience caught my attention because she discussed her changing perspective on nutrition and what she had observed in her work with patients.

I want to include that video here because it was one of the resources that influenced my thinking.

I am interested in hearing different perspectives, particularly when someone has changed their own position after years of studying or practicing within a particular approach to nutrition.

That does not mean I automatically agree with everything someone says. It means I am willing to listen, investigate, and consider information that challenges what I previously believed.

Oils and fats have been especially confusing because the information can seem contradictory. One person praises an oil, another questions it. One person recommends avoiding a particular fat, while another believes it belongs in a healthy diet.

At some point, I had to decide what I was comfortable using while continuing to learn.

For now, I have chosen to cook with Kerrygold Irish butter, along with organic olive oil and organic avocado oil. I spent time researching butter brands and how the animals are raised and fed, and I made a decision based on what I learned and what I prefer.

I have noticed differences in the butter I use, and I am comfortable with the choice I have made.

Organic products are my preference when I can find them. That is a personal choice, not a requirement I am trying to impose on anyone else.

I am not claiming to have figured out every question about dietary fats. I am saying that I have gathered information, made a decision that works for me, and remained open to learning more.

That is becoming an important part of my approach to nutrition.

I do not need to have every answer today.

I need to be willing to keep asking questions, keep researching, and make the best decisions I can with the information available to me.

Food, Family, Holidays, and Social Life

Food is about more than nutrition.

It brings people together. It is part of our celebrations, family gatherings, holidays, traditions, and everyday social lives.

Think about the last time you gathered with family. Maybe it was a holiday meal, a birthday, a cookout, or simply a Sunday dinner.

Look around the table.

Look at the food. Look at the people eating it. Look at the health challenges that may be affecting the people you love.

I want you to think about that the next time you sit down for a family meal.

What are the people around you experiencing physically? Are they struggling with their weight? Are they dealing with hormonal issues, low energy, or other health concerns? How many people in the room are taking medication for conditions that have become part of their everyday lives?

And what does the food on that table have to do with the conversation about health?

I know that food is only one part of a person's health, and I know that people have different circumstances. But I also believe we should be willing to look honestly at the patterns we repeat and the things we have come to accept as normal.

If everyone around the table is struggling with their health, it is worth asking whether the way we eat needs to change.

I am going to say this plainly: if the people around your table are looking older than they are, struggling with excess weight, dealing with hormonal issues, feeling unwell, and relying on medications, perhaps it is time to take a serious look at the meals being served. Because if nothing changes, you may find yourself attending more funerals than you ever expected.

That is all I am going to say about that.

My own experience has changed how I think about food at home and when I am eating out. I still want to enjoy restaurants, holidays, and time with the people I love. I do not want my approach to nutrition to become a reason to withdraw from social life.

But I am more intentional now.

I think about what I am eating, what is in the food, and how it fits with the changes I have made. I do not want to return to old habits simply because I am at a gathering or because a particular food has always been part of a tradition.

Food can bring us together, but our traditions can evolve.

We can continue to enjoy family meals while becoming more thoughtful about what we prepare and serve. We can celebrate without assuming that every dish has to remain exactly the same forever.

Sometimes, taking care of ourselves means being willing to change what we have always done.

And sometimes, those changes can become an invitation for the people around us to start asking questions of their own.

I'm Not Joining Your Food Cult

One thing I noticed while researching nutrition was how strongly people identify with the way they eat.

There are vegans, vegetarians, plant-based eaters, carnivores, and people who follow a wide range of other approaches. Many people are passionate about their choices, and they have reasons for believing their approach is the best one.

I understand that.

When someone experiences a meaningful change in their health, it makes sense that they would want to share what they have learned. They want other people to experience the same thing.

But somewhere along the way, sharing information can become insisting that everyone else must do what worked for you.

That is where I have a problem.

I have watched the debates between people who eat plants and people who eat meat. Each side has its arguments. Each side has people who are convinced that their approach is the answer.

And if you are not eating the way they eat, they want to tell you why you are wrong.

I am not interested in that.

I am interested in understanding my own body, doing my own research, and making decisions that work for me.

I do not believe everyone has to eat the same way to be healthy. I believe people have different needs, different histories, different tolerances, and different experiences with food.

My experience has led me toward eating more animal protein and being much more selective about the plants I eat. Someone else may have an entirely different experience.

That is why I believe there is value in learning from people without feeling obligated to join their group.

I can listen to a vegan explain why they eat the way they do. I can listen to a carnivore explain why they eat the way they do. I can learn something from both without making either one my identity.

Thank you for the information, but I am not joining your food cult!

I also question what it would mean for the entire world to follow one single approach to eating. We live in different environments, have different resources, and have different circumstances. I find it difficult to believe that one rigid dietary formula is the answer for every person everywhere.

My own spiritual beliefs lead me to see meaning in that diversity. I believe there is an intelligence behind creation, and I find myself reflecting on why human beings can have such different experiences with the same foods.

For me, the answer is not to force everyone into one category.

It is to pay attention, learn, and make choices based on what we discover.

I have learned that I prefer meat over many of the plants I used to eat. I am grateful that I have been able to find foods that I enjoy and that seem to work better for me.

And yes, I prefer my meat over those damn plants!

That's just that.

I am not interested in arguing about which group is right. I am interested in figuring out what works for my body.

There is a difference.

Health Care or Sick Care?

My experiences sent me to the emergency room on two consecutive weekends. I had multiple interactions with emergency medical personnel, two emergency room visits, and an experience at the pharmacy that ended in a panic attack.

It was a lot to process.

During those experiences, I encountered people who seemed genuinely concerned about what was happening to me. I also encountered interactions that felt more like people were simply completing their jobs and moving on to the next task.

That difference stayed with me.

When you are frightened and do not understand what is happening in your body, you become very aware of how people treat you. You notice whether someone takes the time to listen, whether they seem interested in understanding what you are experiencing, and whether you feel heard.

It made me think about the difference between what I call health care and sick care.

To me, health care means looking at the person and trying to understand what is happening. It means being interested in the bigger picture, asking questions, and considering whether there may be something contributing to the problem that deserves further investigation.

Sick care, as I use the term, is focused primarily on addressing the immediate symptoms.

Of course, treating symptoms can be necessary and important. When someone is having an emergency, immediate treatment matters. My experience in the emergency room made me appreciate that.

But I also began asking what happens after the immediate problem is addressed.

What happens when the reaction passes? What happens when the medication is picked up? What happens when you go home and still do not understand why your body reacted the way it did?

Those were the questions I was left with.

I did not want to spend my life responding to one problem after another without trying to understand what might be contributing to them. I wanted to know more about my body, my food choices, and the patterns that might help explain what I had experienced.

That is what pushed me into my own research.

I realized that I needed to be an active participant in my health. I needed to ask questions, understand the information I was given, and make decisions about what I would do next.

I also needed to pay attention to how I felt during interactions with health care providers. Did I feel heard? Were my questions taken seriously? Was there an interest in helping me understand what had happened, or was the focus limited to the immediate problem?

Those questions matter to me now.

I am not suggesting that every provider who focuses on symptoms is doing something wrong. I am saying that my experience made me think more carefully about what I want from the people involved in my care.

I want to understand what is happening in my body.

And I want to take responsibility for learning as much as I can.

My Body, My Research, My Decisions

After being discharged from the emergency room and going through these frightening experiences, I reached a point where I knew I had to do something differently.

I had an EpiPen in my purse. I had experienced reactions that frightened me. I had been eating foods I thought were healthy, and now I was trying to understand why my body seemed to be responding to them the way it was.

I remember thinking that this was my body.

I had to do the research. I had to make decisions. I had to figure out how I was going to move forward.

I did not want to live in fear every time I ate something. I did not want to feel as though I had no control over what was happening in my body. I wanted to understand what I could change and how I could make better decisions for myself.

My body had been trying to get my attention for a long time.

First, it whispered.

Then it got louder.

Then it started to yell.

And finally, it pushed me into a corner and said, "Sit down. Let me holla at you for a minute."

I had no other choice but to finally listen.

That is what prompted my research. That is what prompted my decisions to change the way I ate, to question things I had previously accepted, and to pay closer attention to how I felt.

In mid-September, I weighed 147 pounds at 5'3". I knew I wanted to make changes, but my original plan was simply to exercise more. I did not think about changing my diet. That thought had not even entered my mind.

I assumed I could address what I was seeing by moving more and doing more exercise.

Then food made me sick.

My body essentially said, "No, ma'am. That is not going to work."

I will include photos showing where I was in mid-September and the mindset I had at the time. I thought exercise would be the change I needed to make. I had no idea that my relationship with food was about to become such a significant part of the journey.

This experience forced me to look at things differently.

I began to understand that I could not simply keep doing what I had always done and expect a different result. I had to be willing to investigate, question, and make changes based on what I was learning.

I am not writing this to tell you that you need to eat the way I eat. I am writing this because I want you to understand what happened when I finally started paying attention to my body.

If you are dealing with health issues and your body has been trying to get your attention in subtle ways, I encourage you to pay attention.

Do not wait until the whisper becomes a yell before you begin asking questions.

You may not arrive at the same conclusions I have. You may discover that your body responds differently to certain foods. You may find that your path looks nothing like mine.

But you deserve to understand your own experience and make informed decisions about your health.

What's Your Why?

Making major changes in life requires a reason.

Not just a reason that sounds good when you say it out loud. Not just something you tell yourself because you know you should be doing better.

You need a why that means something to you.

I have done a lot of things in my life because of my two sons. They are 27 and 31, and they have influenced the way I have worked, the decisions I have made, and the mother I have become.

There have been many times when my reason for doing something was connected to them.

But this time was different.

When I left the emergency room with an EpiPen, I knew I did not want to keep living in fear every time I ate. I remember picking up the prescription, having a panic attack at the pharmacy counter, and then sitting in the car with my son.

I made a decision.

I was going to figure out what I needed to change. I was going to learn as much as I could about what was happening in my body and how I could take better care of myself.

I did not want to keep carrying that fear around with me. I did not want to feel as though every meal came with the possibility of another frightening reaction.

I wanted to live.

And I wanted to live for a long time.

I want to see 100-plus years. I want to get married. I want to travel. I want to experience more of life. I want to be here long enough to do the work I believe I came into this world to do.

This time, I was making changes for me.

That was my why.

And I believe your why matters, too.

When you are trying to change the way you eat, it is easy to get caught up in the information. You can spend hours researching ingredients, watching videos, reading articles, and comparing different approaches to nutrition.

But at some point, you have to bring the conversation back to yourself.

Why does this matter to you?

What do you want your life to look like?

What are you trying to change, and why are you willing to put in the effort to change it?

If you do not have a reason that matters to you, it can be difficult to keep going when the changes become uncomfortable or inconvenient.

Your reason does not have to be the same as mine. It does not have to involve a frightening experience in an emergency room. Perhaps you want to have more energy. Perhaps you want to be able to travel, enjoy your family, or remain active as you get older. Perhaps you simply want to feel more comfortable in your own body.

Whatever your reason is, understand it.

Let it be something you can return to when you need to remember why you started.

Because changing the way you eat is not just about changing the food on your plate.

It is about deciding what kind of life you want to live and what you are willing to do to support that life.

So, what is your why?

What is your reason for wanting to get your body healthy?

What is your reason for becoming more in tune with what your body is telling you?

And what would change if you started making decisions with that reason in mind?

The Spiritual Side of Getting Sick

As I got beyond the initial fear of what was happening in my body, I began to understand that, for me, this experience was about more than the physical symptoms.

About a week into this journey, I started to see it through a spiritual lens.

I am deeply connected to God, to infinite intelligence, to the divine, to the source of energy that I believe created all things. My relationship with that source is an important part of how I understand my life and the experiences I have.

And as I reflected on what had happened, I began to feel that there was something bigger unfolding beneath the physical experience.

My body had been trying to get my attention for a long time. I had been overlooking things, explaining things away, and continuing with habits that I had not questioned. Then everything came to a point where I could no longer ignore it.

I had to stop.

I had to listen.

I had to pay attention to what was happening and begin asking different questions.

For me, that became a spiritual experience as much as a physical one.

I believe I came into this world with work to do. I believe there is a reason I am here, and I want to be healthy enough to do that work. I want to be here for a long time, to experience more of life, and to continue becoming the person I am meant to be.

That belief changed the way I looked at my decisions.

I began to see the importance of discernment, of learning to distinguish what I wanted to keep from what I needed to reconsider. I became more willing to question what I had been taught, investigate information for myself, and trust that I could learn from my own experience.

I did not have all the answers. I still do not.

But I had reached a point where I knew I could no longer move through life without paying attention to what my body was telling me.

And perhaps that is one of the most important things this experience has taught me.

Sometimes, we become so focused on getting through the day that we stop noticing how we actually feel. We follow routines. We repeat habits. We do what we have always done because it is familiar.

Then something happens that makes us stop and reconsider.

For me, that moment came through my relationship with food and the frightening reactions I experienced. It forced me to look more closely at my body, my choices, and the information I had accepted without much question.

It also brought me back to my connection with God and my belief that there is purpose in the life I have been given.

I cannot tell you what your experiences mean spiritually. That is something each person has to explore for themselves.

But I can tell you what this experience meant to me.

It reminded me that I have a responsibility to care for the body I have been given. It reminded me that I need to pay attention, ask questions, and make decisions that align with the life I want to live.

And it reminded me that I am not finished.

I still have places to go, things to experience, and work to do.

My body had been trying to get my attention for a long time. Then, it finally forced me to listen.

And that is where this journey began.

Photos Taken September 17, 2026

 

This was my weigh in for the beginning of October. I had no intentions of changing my diet, despite increasing my exercise in September and still not seeing any significant changes in these numbers. October 6th was the first day that my body started yelling at me and I had to pay attention. As a result of finally paying attention, these numbers started to rapidly improve with my diet changes. 

At the time of these photos I was 51 years old. My horrible eating habits had shaved 3 years off my life, but within 3 weeks I was able to start reversing a lot of the damage I'd done with my fork simply by eating more mindfully.