A conversation with Jay Feldman on bioenergetic health, stress physiology, and what mainstream fitness culture misses
This week I have a really exciting interview for you with Jay Feldman of Jay Feldman Wellness, and this conversation felt like such a natural continuation of everything we’ve been unpacking lately around calories, metabolism, stress, food, fitness culture, and what happens when the body finally says, enough.
If you listened to the episode I dropped a couple weeks ago, Calories In, Common Sense Out, this conversation with Jay is the perfect next step.
That episode laid the groundwork for something I keep coming back to: the body is not a calculator. Yes, calories matter. But the way modern fitness culture talks about calories often strips the body of important context: stress, hormones, thyroid function, energy production, sleep, recovery, nervous system load, and years of restriction.
Jay and I both come from backgrounds where we have done restrictive dieting, pushed hard, and learned the hard way that the body eventually keeps the score. That shared history is part of what made this conversation so good. We’re not talking about metabolism from a detached, abstract place. We’re talking about what happens when people spend years under-eating, overtraining, living on caffeine, pushing through exhaustion, and then wondering why their body no longer responds the way it used to.
In this episode, we talk about Jay’s approach to bioenergetic health, which starts with cellular energy rather than just calories, macros, or “discipline.” Instead of asking only, “How do I lose weight?” we ask a deeper question:
Does the body have enough energy to do what we keep demanding from it?
A lot of my audience includes current or former athletes, military and veteran types, fitness-minded people, chronic dieters, and folks who are used to pushing through pain. Many have spent years being praised for discipline while quietly feeling cold, exhausted, anxious, inflamed, underfed, over-caffeinated, and metabolically stuck.
We get into the difference between looking fit and actually being healthy. Can someone look lean, disciplined, or high-performing while internally running on stress hormones? How can you tell the difference between real energy and survival energy? Are cold hands and feet, waking at night, cravings, low libido, anxiety, or needing caffeine just to function clues that something deeper is going on?
We also talk about one of the most frustrating places people end up:
“If I eat more than 1,500 calories, I gain weight.”
That is such a common fear, especially for people who have dieted for years. And this is where the conversation gets really practical. We talk about metabolic adaptation, why the body may resist weight loss after long periods of restriction, and why eating more can feel terrifying even when it may be part of the long-term solution.
This also ties into something I’ve talked about before in my Earn Your Right to Diet episode: sometimes the next step is not another fat-loss phase. Sometimes the next step is rebuilding. That can mean a slow, strategic reverse diet—gradually adding calories back in, supporting thyroid and metabolic function, reducing stress load, and spending time at maintenance before asking the body to diet again.
Reverse dieting is not “just eat everything and hope for the best.” It is a methodical process of giving the body more energy while watching biofeedback: temperature, sleep, digestion, mood, training recovery, hunger, cravings, cycle health, libido, and overall energy.
Toward the end of the episode, Jay gives tangible advice on how people can start making sure they are eating enough food.
We talk about using basic calorie-needs charts as a starting point, especially because many adults are eating amounts that are closer to what a child or sedentary teenager might need… then wondering why they feel awful.
I also share some visuals during the episode, including examples of what 1,800, 2,000, and 2,200 calories can actually look like across three meals and two snacks. Because sometimes people hear those numbers and assume it means massive amounts of food, when in reality it can look pretty normal, nourishing, and manageable.
This episode is for anyone who feels like their body is betraying them after years of trying to do everything “right.”
We talk about:
bioenergetic health and cellular energy
the limits of “eat less, move more” advice
chronic dieting and weight-loss resistance
stress physiology and caffeine-driven energy
the difference between discipline and health
former athletes, veterans, and burned-out high-achievers
reverse dieting and rebuilding metabolic capacity
why the body may need more food before it can safely lose fat again
This is not a conversation about abandoning personal responsibility or pretending calories do not matter. It is a conversation about restoring much needed nuance and context.
Because sometimes the problem is not that you need more willpower.
Sometimes the problem is that your body has been running on fumes for far too long.
And that’s all I have for you folks, I’d love to hear your thoughts, leave me a comment or shoot me a private message to share them. If you appreciate this kind of work, please share and subscribe—that would mean a lot to me!
On metabolism, nourishment, food reverence, and the systems that shape what feeds us
Welcome back to Taste0fTruth Tuesdays. Today, we are mixing things up with a subject that is very near and dear to my heart: nutrition, metabolism, and our increasingly distorted relationship with food in our modern world.
This episode covers a lot of ground. We are moving from diet culture and my own history with restriction into metabolism, morality, industrial food, local agriculture, and the growing technological control of our food systems. It may sound like several different conversations, but they are all part of the same story.
This episode will also lay some of the groundwork for an upcoming interview at the end of the month with Jay Feldman Wellness.
Jay is a health coach, independent health researcher, and host of The Energy Balance Podcast. His work explores bioenergetic health and nutrition, including ideas influenced by biologist Ray Peat—principles I have found myself returning to, on and off, for the last several years.
But before we get there, I need to explain why this conversation is so personal for me.
As many of you know, I have spent more than 20 years in the health and fitness world. I have also written openly about how intense and complicated that journey has been.
I came of age during the late 1990s and early 2000s, an era saturated with diet magazines, celebrity weight-loss stories, low-fat everything, Special K commercials, “bikini body” workouts, and television programs that treated shrinking the body as both entertainment and moral achievement.
And those cultural messages did not exist in isolation.
I grew up in a household where my body was not simply noticed. It was scrutinized, compared, and commented on.
Those kinds of comments do not disappear with time. They become part of the architecture of how you see yourself. They follow you into mirrors, fitting rooms, photographs, swimming pools, doctors’ offices, and every room where you become aware that other people can see your body.
They teach you that the body must be managed and monitored.
They plant the belief that remaining small is the price of safety.
I grew up believing that if I could control my body well enough, I could avoid humiliation. I could avoid becoming the punchline. I could avoid being seen in the wrong way.
For a while, I turned that fear into something our culture rewards: discipline.
But fear does not stop being fear simply because it learns the vocabulary of health and fitness.
In high school, I followed plans like the Special K diet. I relied on Carnation Instant Breakfast instead of complete meals. I skipped classes to work out before heading to my afterschool job. My protein intake was low. My fear of gaining weight was high.
Restriction became familiar.
And because restriction was praised as willpower, I did not always recognize it as deprivation.
That is the background I bring into this conversation. I am not critiquing calorie culture because I have never understood its appeal. I understand it intimately.
Numbers can feel safe.
Numbers feel objective. They offer the illusion that if you calculate carefully enough, track consistently enough, and exert enough control, the body will become predictable. Calories give food a score. The scale gives the body a verdict. And when you have learned to fear your own appetite, arithmetic can feel more trustworthy than sensation.
I have lived through periods in which weight loss looked like success from the outside while my body was becoming increasingly undernourished, stressed, depleted, and disconnected from its own signals.
So when I say that weight loss and health are not synonymous, trust me: I learned that lesson the hard way.
That is why I am interested in the bioenergetic perspective. Rather than asking only, “How little can I eat to make the number on the scale decrease?” it asks a more useful question:
How well is the body actually producing and using energy?
This episode is not intended to settle every claim made within bioenergetic nutrition. That is part of what I want to explore with Jay during our upcoming conversation.
Today, I want to lay the groundwork by examining the difference between consuming calories and producing usable cellular energy; between losing weight and becoming healthy; and between treating food as a number and understanding it as biological information, ecological relationship, and participation in a living system.
Because the body is not simply a furnace. Food is not merely a number.
And losing weight is definitely not proof that a person is nourished or healthy while doing so.
Modern nutrition has flattened food into arithmetic while removing almost everything that makes it meaningful.
SAD is the perfect acronym for the Standard American Diet because, whew, it really is sad what modern food culture has become.
And I do not just mean sad in the obvious “everyone is eating ultra-processed food and wondering why they feel terrible” kind of way. I mean sad in the deeper sense.
Sad as in spiritually impoverished.
Sad as in disconnected from land, animals, seasons, labor, gratitude, death, and actual nourishment.
Sad as in we have managed to turn food (one of the most intimate relationships a human being has with the living world) into a bland, plastic-wrapped transaction between a lonely person and a microwave, or a vehicle going to a fast food drive thru window.
That sounds dramatic.
But is it really?
We live in a culture that calls ultra-processed food “good enough,” celebrates weight loss regardless of how it was achieved, and then treats anyone who questions that framework as judgmental, elitist, or unnecessarily intense.
But that is exactly the problem.
Our culture has reduced food to numbers while stripping it of meaning. Calories. Macros. Points. Deficits. Cheat meals. Protein hacks. Low-cal swaps. “If It Fits Your Macros.” (I lived and breathed that lifestyle) We talk about food like it is accounting, not relationship. Like the human body is a calculator.
Of course, calories matter. I am not pretending energy balance is fake. But if your entire health philosophy begins and ends with calorie math, you are missing the human being attached to the equation.
Food is not only fuel. Food is information. Food sends a signal. Food affects insulin, thyroid output, leptin, ghrelin, cortisol, digestion, gut signaling, inflammation, mitochondrial function, cell communication, mood, cravings, satiety, sleep, fertility, and gene expression. A Hot Pocket and a grass-fed steak may both contain calories, but they do not speak the same biological language once they enter the body.
The lie of “calories in, calories out” must die.
Not because energy does not matter. It does. But because reducing food to calorie math is one of the dumbest things modern nutrition culture has done to the human body.
A calorie is a unit of energy, but the number printed on a label cannot tell us how effectively a food will be digested, absorbed, converted into ATP, or allocated among the body’s competing demands. That process requires minerals, vitamins, enzymes, hormones, functioning mitochondria, adequate protein, and a body that is not constantly underfed, inflamed, stressed, or depleted.
This is where the “just eat less” crowd loses the plot.
Most people are not building truly nutrient-dense meals, even when they think they are. They may be tracking protein, counting calories, or hitting some macro target, while still missing the deeper nourishment their body needs to actually turn food into energy. If someone is living on refined grains, muscle meats only, no seafood, low mineral intake, low variety, and almost no traditional foods, they can be “hitting their calories” while still undersupplying some of the micronutrients and cofactors involved in energy metabolism, tissue repair, and hormonal function.
But producing energy is only part of the story.
The body must also decide where that energy goes.
Mitochondrial psychobiologist Martin Picard and his colleagues have proposed an emerging framework called the Energy Constraint model. Their central idea is that the body operates with a limited but dynamic energy budget that must continually be allocated across cells, organs, systems, and behaviors.
Everything costs energy.
Neurons firing costs energy. Producing proteins costs energy. Mounting an immune response costs energy. Digestion, movement, cognition, reproduction, tissue repair, and communication between cells all carry energetic costs.
Nothing is free in biology.
Hierarchy of Energy Needs. From @martinpicard, “Energy Constraint on Health,” based on the Energy Constraint framework developed by Alexander Behnke, Evan Shaulson, Herman Pontzer, Chris Kempes, Martin Picard, and colleagues. Reproduced with permission from Martin Picard. Original article and primary paper linked here.
In their framework, the body’s energetic demands can be divided into three broad categories: vital functions; stress responses; and growth, maintenance, and repair.
At the base are the vital functions necessary to sustain life in the immediate term: breathing, heart activity, brain function, membrane potential, ion exchange, and basic metabolism. These processes receive priority because they are necessary for survival over minutes, hours, and days.
The next category includes stress-related demands. Exercise is a stressor. So are infection, inflammation, toxins, psychological distress, injury, sleep loss, and activation of the sympathetic nervous system. All of these require the body to spend energy responding and adapting.
At the top are growth, maintenance, and repair. These processes may not be essential for surviving the next several minutes, but they are essential for healing, resilience, muscle maintenance, reproduction, cognition, motivation, vitality, and long-term health.
When the body’s total demands become difficult to sustain, energy is not distributed evenly. More urgent vital and stress-related processes may be prioritized while investment in growth, maintenance, and repair becomes compressed.
In other words, the body may preserve what is necessary to keep you alive while reducing what is available to help you recover, reproduce, think clearly, maintain muscle, and feel fully alive.
This does not mean these higher functions simply switch off in a rigid order. It means the body makes trade-offs.
And duration matters.
Not every stressor is harmful. Exercise itself temporarily redirects energy, but when it is appropriately dosed and followed by sufficient nourishment, sleep, and recovery, the body can adapt and become more resilient.
The deeper problem is stress that becomes excessive, chronic, or inescapable.
When energetic demands continue for weeks, months, or years—whether from illness, infection, psychological stress, overtraining, sleep disruption, undernourishment, or some combination of pressures—the body may repeatedly postpone the repair work that was supposed to happen later.
This framework helps explain how someone can technically be eating enough calories (or even losing weight successfully) while experiencing fatigue, poor recovery, low libido, disrupted cycles, reduced motivation, brain fog, loss of muscle, or declining resilience.
It does not mean every one of those symptoms has a single energetic cause. But it gives us a much richer way of understanding health than simply asking whether someone stayed within a calorie target.
The body is not failing to obey an equation.
It is adapting to competing demands.
Nutrient status is only one part of this energetic landscape, but it is an important one. The body’s ability to produce, allocate, and use energy is also shaped by sleep, illness, stress, activity, mitochondrial function, recovery, and the cumulative demands being placed upon it.
This is why vitamins and minerals matter so much. They are not little bonus points sprinkled on top of a diet. They are part of the machinery that turns food into usable energy. They help build hormones and neurotransmitters, repair tissue, maintain immune function, support the liver, regulate the nervous system, and keep the organs doing their jobs.
Or said more simply: macronutrients burn on the flame of micronutrients.
That is the part calorie math misses. A Hot Pocket and a mineral-rich, protein-rich, whole-food meal may both contain calories, but they do not offer the body the same tools. One delivers energy potential wrapped in industrial convenience. The other provides the raw materials the body needs to actually build, repair, signal, regulate, and produce real cellular energy.
So when people say “it’s just calories in, calories out,” what I hear is a worldview that has confused potential with function.
A body is not helped by potential alone. It needs conversion. It needs nourishment. It needs signal. It needs minerals, protein, fats, carbohydrates, vitamins, salt, sunlight, rest, and rhythm.
Food is not just a number entering a furnace. Food is a set of instructions entering a living system. And if the instructions are poor, incomplete, synthetic, depleted, or chaotic, the body will respond accordingly.
This is where the lazy appeal to “thermodynamics” becomes almost comical. Yes, the laws of thermodynamics exist. Congratulations. But the human body is not a closed metal box in a lab. It is a living, adaptive, self-regulating organism. Inputs change outputs. Food changes appetite, energy expenditure, hormones, cravings, sleep, mood, metabolic rate, and behavior. The “calories out” side is not fixed. It responds to the quality, timing, and composition of what we eat.
Rupert Sheldrake has criticized the way modern science can harden living systems into dead-mechanistic models, and that critique fits here. The calorie model treats the body like a machine. But we are not machines. We are organisms. Food is not merely burned. It is received, interpreted, metabolized, stored, signaled, and woven into the body.
So yes, calories matter. But “calories in, calories out” as a complete theory of health is basically nutritional kindergarten, and it’s time to grow out of that.
But calorie reductionism is only one way modern food culture disconnects us from the complexity of nourishment.
We also have a tendency to turn eating into a moral identity. Foods become clean or dirty, virtuous or shameful. Diets promise not only better health, but innocence: a way to eat without exploitation, suffering, contradiction, or death.
I understand the appeal of that promise because I lived inside it.
I was vegetarian for years. At the time, I genuinely believed it was both the healthier and more ethical choice. I cared about animals. I still do—deeply. I did not want to participate in harm if I could avoid it.
But eventually, health-wise, vegetarianism stopped working for me. My body was not thriving. Practitioners I trusted encouraged me to reconsider whether I was receiving enough protein and nourishment, and over time I began incorporating animal foods again. That transition gradually led me toward a more pro-metabolic, ancestral approach to food.
I am not as critical of vegetarianism as I am of veganism because vegetarian diets can still include many traditional, deeply nourishing foods: eggs, butter, cheese, milk, yogurt, cream, and honey. These foods can still connect us to animals, farms, fermentation, older foodways, and the forms of nourishment on which human communities have relied for generations.
Veganism is different. I understand the moral impulse behind it. But modern veganism often depends heavily on the very industrial food system it imagines itself resisting.
It often depends upon global supply chains, fortified products, industrial monocrops, protein isolates, seed oils, and laboratory-like replacements for foods that once came directly from local land, animals, kitchens, and communities.
That does not describe every vegan meal or every person who avoids animal foods. But veganism as a widely accessible modern lifestyle has been made possible, in large part, by the industrialization and globalization of food. It became easier to imagine a diet detached from local ecology only after the modern food system detached nearly everyone from local ecology.
Before supermarket abundance, refrigerated transport, synthetic supplementation, and year-round imports, diets were far more directly shaped by region, climate, labor, animals, seasons, preservation, and survival.
This is what troubles me about the moral certainty that can surround veganism. Morality can bind us around compassion, but it can also blind us to costs outside the frame we have chosen. A person may avoid animal foods while remaining dependent upon monocropping, habitat loss, exploited labor, heavily processed substitutes, and corporations with no meaningful relationship to the land being depleted.
The suffering has not necessarily disappeared.
It has moved out of sight.
An ethical identity can become so focused on the visible animal that it loses sight of soil, insects, wildlife, farmers, rural communities, and the ecological relationships required to sustain human life.
This is why I keep thinking about survival programs like Alone. You do not typically see people in genuine survival conditions adhering to rigid dietary identities made possible by modern abundance. They eat the carbohydrates they can gather. They fish, hunt, forage, trap, and preserve whatever food the environment makes available.
A television program does not settle the ethical debate. But it does expose how much our modern food identities depend upon stability, infrastructure, supplements, supermarkets, and global abundance.
Most of us have no idea what we would actually eat if supermarkets, refrigeration, restaurants, and global supply chains disappeared.
It is easy to construct an identity around dietary purity while standing beneath fluorescent lights in a store containing food from every climate on Earth.
Survival has a way of stripping ideology down to appetite, ecology, and availability.
The point I’m trying to make here, is the deeper problem is not simply meat. It is our total disconnection from food itself.
The Standard American Diet is not built around reverence. It is built around convenience, profit, shelf life, hyper-palatability, and perpetual consumption. It is often high in refined carbohydrates and industrial fats, low in nutrient density, easy to overeat, and engineered to override the body’s natural signals.
It keeps people fed but not nourished.
Full but not satisfied. Stimulated but depleted.
I do not blame meat itself for the sickness of modern food culture. I blame the collapse of small and local food systems. I blame industrial agriculture and the consolidation of food production. I blame ultra-processed convenience food. I blame the severing of people from land, seasons, animals, kitchens, skills, and community.
I blame a culture in which people no longer know where their food comes from, what it took to produce it, or what kind of life and death made it possible.
Because that is the uncomfortable truth: death is always involved in food.
Neither vegetarianism nor veganism remove death from the food system. Fields are cleared. Habitats are displaced. Soil life is disrupted. Insects, birds, rodents, snakes, rabbits, and countless unseen creatures are killed through large-scale crop production. Farm workers are exploited. Water is diverted. Communities are transformed to serve distant markets.
Even a plate composed entirely of plants carries a cost.
That does not mean all dietary choices are morally equivalent. It means purity is not available to us. The moral task is not to imagine that we have escaped the web of life and death. It is to become more conscious of how we participate in it.
Nature is a total system, and within that totality it is not morally tidy.
We often use the word “natural” as if it means good, pure, balanced, or morally clean. But nature does not produce constant perfection. Nature produces totality. Beauty and monstrosity. Strength and weakness. Flourishing and failure. Healthy forms, botched forms, failed adaptations, extinction, decay, renewal.
Food belongs to that same uncomfortable order. There is no pure way to eat outside of life, death, appetite, cost, and consequence. The fantasy of a morally spotless diet is just another modern escape hatch from reality.
Morality works in a similar way. It is not merely a list of rules imposed from above. It is an energy-management system. It curbs violence, lust, greed, vengeance, ambition, and appetite so a group can maintain some version of peace. Morality contains the passions so they do not destroy the social body.
At both the personal and social level, morality determines which appetites may be expressed, which must be restrained, and which costs remain visible.
And maybe this is why modern food culture feels so spiritually sick. It has stopped containing appetite. It does not discipline desire. It engineers it. It stimulates it. It tells us we can eat industrially manufactured, hyper-palatable food and reduce the whole thing to calorie math, as if the body is not receiving signals, adapting, craving, storing, resisting, inflaming, and remembering.
Food is energy, yes. But not in the dead mechanical sense. Food is energy moving through a living moral and biological system.
That is why “calories in, calories out” feels so thin. It treats food as if it enters a furnace. But food enters a body. And bodies are not furnaces. Bodies are fields of signal, memory, hunger, restraint, ancestry, hormone, and meaning.
I completely understand the discomfort around eating conscious animals. I have read so many stories from first-time farmers who raise animals with love and then struggle deeply when it is time for slaughter. That pain means something. I respect it. Honestly, I trust that pain more than the numbness of the average grocery store shopper tossing factory-farmed meat into a cart with no thought at all.
The pain shows there is still reverence there.
And maybe that is what we have lost most.
We have been removed from the reality of food for so long that we tend to swing between two false extremes. On one side, we sentimentalize animals from a distance and pretend we can opt out of the death cycle entirely. On the other hand, we consume without thought, without gratitude, without responsibility, without even a pause. Both are forms of disconnection.
The more honest path, at least for me, is not pretending death can be removed from food. It is learning to approach food with more gratitude, humility, and responsibility.
That means caring about how animals are raised. It means caring about soil. It means caring about farmers. It means caring about local food systems. It means asking whether our food builds health or slowly drains it from us. It means understanding that “cheap” food often has hidden costs paid somewhere else, by animals, by land, by farm workers, by our own bodies, by our children, and by our communities.
And yes, it also means having higher standards.
I am tired of the cultural pressure to pretend that all food choices are basically the same as long as the calories work out. They are not. A calorie deficit may lead to weight loss, but weight loss is not the same as nourishment. You can lose weight while eating foods that do very little to support your metabolism, hormones, digestion, mood, or long-term health. You can shrink a body while starving it of what it actually needs.
Real nourishment asks more of us.
It asks us to pay attention. It asks us to recover old skills. It asks us to cook, to preserve, to source better when we can, and to know the difference between food shaped by land, animals, microbes, seasons, and human hands—and food assembled in a factory to survive for months in a freezer.
This is where food becomes spiritual for me.
Not spiritual in the vague influencer sense. Not “raise your vibes with an açai smoothie bowl” nonsense.
I mean spiritual in the older, more connected to earth sense: eating is an act of dependence, participation, and transformation.
Rudolf Steiner once approached nutrition through the idea that eating is never merely mechanical. Whatever one makes of his more esoteric language, I think there is something valuable in the underlying insight: food does not simply enter the body and disappear into a calorie ledger. The body must meet it, break it down, transform it, and incorporate it into the self.
What was once sunlight, soil, rain, grass, grain, fruit, milk, muscle, mineral, or microbial life becomes blood, tissue, hormone, neurotransmitter, heat, thought, movement, and memory.
Eating is one of the most literal ways the world becomes us.
That alone should make the act feel less trivial.
We are not floating minds temporarily renting bodies. We are dependent creatures. We require soil, water, sunlight, animals, plants, microbes, farmers, bees, rain, death, decay, and renewal. Every meal places us inside a web of relationships whether we acknowledge them or not.
And this means that food may shape more than our body weight.
What we eat can influence energy, mood, cognition, resilience, inflammation, digestion, and the clarity with which we move through the world. I do not mean that one perfect diet produces spiritual enlightenment, or that illness reflects moral or spiritual failure. Food is not a purity test.
But neither is it neutral.
The quality of what we repeatedly take into the body helps shape the material conditions through which we think, feel, recover, create, and relate to others.
Modern food culture wants us to forget all of this.
It wants food to be easy, cheap, fast, addictive, and morally weightless. It wants us to believe that a frozen pocket of refined flour, industrial oils, modified starches, sodium, flavoring agents, and processed ham is simply another option.
Just calories.
Just convenience.
Just people doing their best.
But I do not believe “doing our best” means lowering our standards until nothing matters. Nor do I believe the answer is to shame ordinary people for choosing the foods that our economic and agricultural systems have made cheap, available, familiar, and nearly effortless.
It is easy to preach ancestral nourishment from a well-stocked kitchen.
A serious food ethic must also account for price, time, disability, geography, cooking knowledge, working conditions, and access. Reverence that only the wealthy can afford is not reverence.
That does not mean pretending a Hot Pocket and a nutrient-dense meal are biologically or spiritually interchangeable. They are not.
It means directing our anger beyond the individual shopper and toward a system that has made industrial convenience easier to obtain than genuine nourishment—and then taught us to call that arrangement freedom.
But reverence cannot remain an individual lifestyle choice.
Our relationship with food is shaped by the systems surrounding us: what is affordable, what is available, what is subsidized, what is processed, what is imported, and what people realistically have the time and energy to prepare.
It is one thing to tell people to eat closer to the land. It is another to live inside an economy that has made industrial food cheaper, faster, and more accessible than the local, nutrient-dense food we claim to value.
So, this is not only a question of personal responsibility.
It is also a question of access, power, and who controls the conditions under which nourishment is produced and distributed.
As of May 2026, grocery prices were 2.7 percent higher than they had been one year earlier. Fruits and vegetables were up 6.1 percent. Food away from home was up 3.5 percent. Meanwhile, overall energy prices had risen 23.5 percent over the same period. These increases are layered on top of years of cumulative inflation, and they shape what families can realistically put on the table. U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. “Consumer Price Index Summary—May 2026.” June 10, 2026.
At the same time, the infrastructure surrounding American agriculture is becoming increasingly centralized and digitized.
In February 2026, the USDA announced its “One Farmer, One File” initiative, which is intended to create a single record following each farmer across the Farm Service Agency, Natural Resources Conservation Service, and Risk Management Agency. The department says the system will reduce duplicated paperwork, retire outdated technology, improve program delivery, and be completed in 2028.
“Protecting America’s farmland is protecting America itself, and this work gives USDA the visibility and speed needed to safeguard our food supply,” said USDA Chief Information Officer Sam Berry.
The government presents this as modernization: faster services, stronger cybersecurity, reduced fraud, better disaster response, and greater protection of American farmland and the food supply. Some of those goals are understandable. Farmers should not have to enter the same information into a dozen broken government systems. Disaster assistance should not be trapped behind obsolete technology. Modernization is not inherently sinister.
But neither is it irrational to ask questions when enormous amounts of agricultural information are consolidated through a company deeply involved in defense, intelligence, surveillance, and government analytics.
Who controls the data? Who is permitted to access it? How is that access audited?
Can information gathered for one purpose later be used for another?
What happens when one private contractor becomes embedded deeply enough in public infrastructure that removing it becomes nearly impossible?
How are farmers protected from political misuse, commercial exploitation, cybersecurity failures, or policies imposed by people who understand data models far better than they understand soil, weather, livestock, and living ecosystems?
Food is not merely another sector to be optimized.
Agriculture is biological, regional, unpredictable, and rooted in relationships that cannot be fully represented on a dashboard. Technology may assist farmers. Data may make government programs more efficient. But efficiency and resilience are not the same thing, and greater visibility from the top does not automatically create greater security on the ground.
A resilient food system requires more than centralized information.
It requires independent farmers, healthy soil, regional processing facilities, seed diversity, local knowledge, accessible markets, functioning supply chains, and communities that retain some capacity to feed themselves. It requires people who know how to grow something, preserve something, cook something, and recognize nourishment before a corporation packages and markets it back to them.
That is why the spiritual, biological, economic, and political dimensions of food cannot be separated.
The same reductionist worldview that treats the body as a furnace can treat the farm as a data point.
The same culture that reduces nourishment to calories can reduce agriculture to output.
The same system that tells us a calorie is a calorie can tell us that control is merely efficiency and dependence is merely convenience.
I reject both forms of reductionism.
A body is not a furnace to be calculated.
A farm is not a monocrop to be optimized or a data file to be controlled.
Food is not merely fuel, inventory, content, or data.
It is soil transformed by sunlight. It is water, labor, death, digestion, memory, culture, and life passing into life. To control food is to touch the most intimate point of contact between the individual body, the community, and the living world.
So, the question is no longer only whether we can eat without forgetting.
It is whether we can remember soon enough to reclaim some agency over what feeds us.
What Women Were Never Told About Weight, Aging, and Control
The Science They Never Told Us
This is the first episode of 2026, and I wanted to start the year by slowing things down, getting a bit personal instead of chasing the latest talking points.
At the end of last year, I spent time reading a few books that genuinely stopped me in my tracks. Not because they offered a new diet or a new protocol, but because they challenged something much deeper: the story we’ve been told about discipline, control, and women’s bodies.
There is a reason women’s bodies change across the lifespan. And it has very little to do with willpower, discipline, or personal failure.
In Why Women Need Fat, evolutionary biologists William Lassek and Steven Gaulin make the case that most modern conversations about women’s weight are fundamentally misinformed. Not because women are doing something wrong, but because we’ve built our expectations on a misunderstanding of what female bodies are actually designed to do.
A major part of their argument focuses on how industrialization radically altered the balance of omega-6 to omega-3 fatty acids in the modern food supply, particularly through seed oils and ultra-processed foods. They make a compelling case that this shift plays a role in rising obesity and metabolic dysfunction at the population level.
I agree that this imbalance matters, and it’s a topic that deserves its own full episode. At the same time, it does not explain every woman’s story. Diet composition can influence metabolism, but it cannot override prolonged stress, illness, hormonal disruption, nervous system dysregulation, or years of restriction. In my own case, omega-6 intake outside of naturally occurring sources is relatively low and does not account for the changes I’ve experienced. That matters, because it reminds us that biology is layered. No single variable explains a complex adaptive system.
One of the most important ideas in the book is that fat distribution matters more than fat quantity.
Women do not store fat the same way men do. A significant portion of female body fat is stored in the hips and thighs, known as gluteofemoral fat. This fat is metabolically distinct from abdominal or visceral fat. It is more stable, less inflammatory, and relatively enriched in long-chain fatty acids, including DHA, which plays a key role in fetal brain development.
From an evolutionary standpoint, this makes sense. Human infants are born with unusually large, energy-hungry brains. Women evolved to carry nutritional reserves that could support pregnancy and lactation, even during times of scarcity. In that context, having fat on your lower body was not a flaw or a failure. It was insurance.
From this perspective, fat is not excess energy. It is deferred intelligence, stored in anticipation of future need. This is where waist-to-hip ratio enters the conversation.
Across cultures and historical periods, a lower waist-to-hip ratio in women has been associated with reproductive health, metabolic resilience, and successful pregnancies. This is not about thinness, aesthetics, or moral worth. It is about fat function, not fat fear, and about how different tissues behave metabolically inside the body. It is about where fat is stored and how it functions.
And in today’s modern culture we have lost that distinction.
Instead of asking what kind of fat a woman carries, we became obsessed with how much. Instead of understanding fat as tissue with purpose, we turned it into a moral scoreboard. Hips became a problem. Thighs became something to shrink. Curves became something to discipline.
Another central idea in Why Women Need Fat is biological set point.
The authors argue that women’s bodies tend to defend a natural weight range when adequately nourished and not under chronic stress. When women remain below that range through restriction, over-exercise, or prolonged under-fueling, the body does not interpret that as success. It interprets it as threat.
Over time, the body adapts, not out of defiance, but out of protection.
Metabolism slows. Hunger and fullness cues become unreliable. Hormonal systems compensate. When the pressure finally eases, weight often rebounds, sometimes beyond where it started, because the body is trying to restore safety.
From this perspective, midlife weight gain, post-illness weight gain, or weight gain after years of restriction is not mysterious. It is not rebellion. It is regulation.
None of this is taught to women.
Instead, we are told that if our bodies change, we failed. That aging is optional. That discipline and botox should override biology. That the number on the scale tells the whole story.
So, before we talk about culture, family, trauma, or personal experience, this matters:
Women’s bodies are not designed to stay static. They are designed to adapt.
Once you understand that, everything else in this conversation changes.
Why the Body Became the Battlefield
This is where historian Joan Jacobs Brumberg’s work in The Body Project: An Intimate History of American Girls, provides essential context, but it requires some precision.
Girls have not always been free from shame. Shame itself is not new. What has changed is what women are taught to be ashamed of, and how that shame operates in daily life.
Brumberg asks a question that still feels unresolved today: Why is the body still a girl’s nemesis? Shouldn’t sexually liberated girls feel better about themselves than their corseted counterparts a century ago?
Based on extensive historical research, including diaries written by American girls from the 1830s through the 1990s, Brumberg shows that although girls today enjoy more formal freedoms and opportunities, they are also under more pressure and at greater psychological risk. This is due to a unique convergence of biological vulnerability and cultural forces that turned the adolescent female body into a central site of social meaning during the twentieth century.
In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, girls did not typically grow up fixated on thinness, calorie control, or constant appearance monitoring. Their diaries were not filled with measurements or food rules. Instead, they wrote primarily about character, self-restraint, moral development, relationships, and their roles within family and community.
One 1892 diary entry reads:
“Resolved, not to talk about myself or feelings. To think before speaking. To work seriously. To be self-restrained in conversation and in actions. Not to let my thoughts wander. To be dignified. Interest myself more in others.”
In earlier eras, female shame was more often tied to behavior, sexuality, obedience, and virtue. The body mattered, but primarily as a moral symbol rather than an aesthetic project requiring constant surveillance and correction.
That changed dramatically in the twentieth century.
Brumberg documents how the mother-daughter connection loosened, particularly around menstruation, sexuality, and bodily knowledge. Where female relatives and mentors once guided girls through these transitions, doctors, advertisers, popular media, and scientific authority increasingly stepped in to fill that role.
At the same time, mass media, advertising, film, and medicalized beauty standards created a new and increasingly exacting ideal of physical perfection. Changing norms around intimacy and sexuality also shifted the meaning of virginity, turning it from a central moral value into an outdated or irrelevant one. What replaced it was not freedom from scrutiny, but a different kind of pressure altogether.
By the late twentieth century, girls were increasingly taught that their bodies were not merely something they inhabited, but something they were responsible for perfecting.
A 1982 diary entry captures this shift starkly:
“I will try to make myself better in any way I possibly can with the help of my budget and baby-sitting money. I will lose weight, get new lenses, already got a new haircut, good makeup, new clothes and accessories.”
What changed was not the presence of shame, but its location. Shame moved inward.
Rather than being externally enforced through rules and prohibitions, it became self-policed. Girls were taught to monitor themselves constantly, to evaluate their bodies from the outside, and to treat appearance as the primary expression of identity and worth.
Brumberg is explicit on this point. The fact that American girls now make their bodies their central project is not an accident or a cultural curiosity. It is a symptom of historical changes that are only beginning to be fully understood.
This is where more recent work, such as Louise Perry’s The Case Against the Sexual Revolution, helps extend Brumberg’s analysis into the present moment. Perry argues that while sexual liberation promised autonomy and empowerment, it often left young women navigating powerful biological and emotional realities without the social structures that once offered protection, guidance, or meaning. In that vacuum, the body became one of the few remaining sites where control still seemed possible.
The result is a paradox. Girls are freer in theory, yet more burdened in practice. The body, once shaped by communal norms and shared female knowledge, becomes a solitary project, managed under intense cultural pressure and constant comparison.
For many girls, this self-surveillance does not begin with magazines or social media. It begins at home, absorbed through tone, comments, and modeling from the women closest to them.
Brumberg argues that body dissatisfaction is often transmitted from mother to daughter, not out of cruelty, but because those mothers inherited the same aesthetic anxieties. Over time, body shame becomes a family inheritance, passed down quietly and persistently.
Some mothers transmit it subtly.
Others do it bluntly.
This matters not because my experience is unique, but because it illustrates what happens when a body shaped by restriction, stress, and cultural pressure is asked to perform indefinitely. Personal stories are often dismissed as anecdotal, but they are where biological theory meets lived reality.
I grew up in a household where my body was not simply noticed. It was scrutinized, compared, and commented on. Comments like that do not fade with time. They shape how you see yourself in mirrors and photographs. They teach you that your body must be managed and monitored. They plant the belief that staying small is the price of safety.
So, I grew up believing that if I could control my body well enough, I could avoid humiliation. I could avoid becoming the punchline. I could avoid being seen in the wrong way.
For a while, I turned that fear into discipline.
The Years Before the Collapse: A Lifetime of Restriction and Survival
Food never felt simple for me. Long before bodybuilding, chronic pain, or COVID, I carried a strained relationship with eating. Growing up in a near constant state of anxiety meant that hunger cues often felt unpredictable. Eating was something to plan around or push through. It rarely felt intuitive or easy.
Because of this, I experimented with diets that replaced real meals with cereal or shakes. I followed plans like the Special K diet. I relied on Carnation Instant Breakfast instead of full meals. My protein intake was low. My fear of gaining weight was high. Restriction became familiar.
Top left is when I started working out obsessively at age 16, top right and bottom photo are from middle school when I was at my “heaviest” that drove the disordered behaviors.
In college, I became a strict vegetarian out of compassion for animals, but I did not understand how to meet my nutritional needs. I was studying dietetics and earning personal training certifications while running frequently and using exercise as a way to maintain control. From the outside, I looked disciplined. Internally, my relationship with food and exercise remained tense and inconsistent.
Later, I became involved in a meal-replacement program through an MLM. I replaced two meals a day with shakes and practiced intermittent fasting framed as “cleanse days.” In hindsight, this was structured under-eating presented as wellness. It fit seamlessly into patterns I had lived in for years.
Eating often felt overwhelming. Cooking felt like a hurdle. Certain textures bothered me. My appetite felt fragile and unreliable. This sensory sensitivity existed long before the parosmia that would come years later. From early on, food was shaped by stress rather than nourishment.
During this entire period, I was also on hormonal birth control, first the NuvaRing and later the Mirena IUD, for nearly a decade. Long-term hormonal modulation can influence mood, inflammation, appetite, and weight distribution. It added another layer of complexity to a system already under strain.
Looking back, I can see that my teens and twenties were marked by near constant restriction. Restriction felt normal. Thriving did not.
The book Why Women Need Fat discusses the idea of a biological weight “set point,” the range a body tends to return to when conditions are stable and adequately nourished. I now understand that I remained below my natural set point for years through force rather than balance. My biology never experienced consistency or safety.
This was the landscape I carried into my thirties.
The Body I Built and the Body That Broke
By the time I entered the bodybuilding world in 2017 and 2018, I already had years of chronic under-eating, over-exercising, and nutrient gaps behind me. Bodybuilding did not create my issues. It amplified them.
I competed in four shows. People admired the discipline and the physique. Internally, my body was weakening. I was overtraining and undereating. By 2019, my immune system began to fail. I developed severe canker sores, sometimes twenty or more at once. I started noticing weight-loss resistance. Everything I had done in the past, was no longer working. On my thirty-fifth birthday, I got shingles. My energy crashed. My emotional bandwidth narrowed. My body was asking for rest, but I did not know how to slow down.
Around this time, I was also navigating eating disorder recovery. Learning how to eat without panic or rigid control was emotionally exhausting even under ideal circumstances… but little did I know things were about to take a massive turn for the worst.
COVID, Sensory Loss, and the Unraveling of Appetite
After getting sick with the ‘vid late 2020, everything shifted again. I developed parosmia, a smell and taste distortion that made many foods taste rotten or chemical. Protein and cooked foods often tasted spoiled. Herbs smelled like artificial chemical. Eating became distressing and, at times, impossible.
My appetite dropped significantly. There were periods where my intake was very low, yet my weight continued to rise. This is not uncommon following illness or prolonged stress. The body often shifts into energy conservation, prioritizing survival overweight regulation.
Weight gain became another source of grief. Roughly thirty pounds over the next five years. I feel embarrassed and avoid photographs. I often worry about how others will perceive me.
If this experience resonates, it is important to say this clearly: your body is not betraying you. It is responding to stress, illness, and prolonged strain in the way bodies are designed to respond.
When years of restriction, intense exercise, chronic stress, illness, hormonal shifts, and emotional trauma accumulate, the body often enters a protective state. Metabolism slows. Hormonal signaling shifts. Hunger cues become unreliable. Weight gain or resistance to weight loss can occur even during periods of low intake, because energy regulation is being driven by survival physiology rather than simple calorie balance.
This is not failure. It is physiology.
The calories-in, calories-out model does not account for thyroid suppression, nervous system activation, sleep disruption, pain, trauma, or metabolic adaptation. It reduces a complex biological system to arithmetic.
Women are not machines. We are adaptive systems built for survival. Sometimes resilience looks like holding onto energy when the body does not feel safe.
Despite this biological reality, we live in a culture that ties women’s value to discipline and appearance. When women gain weight, even under extreme circumstances, we blame ourselves before questioning the system.
Diet culture frames shrinking as virtue.
Toxic positivity encourages acceptance without context.
Industrial food environments differ radically from those our ancestors evolved in.
Medical systems often dismiss women’s pain and metabolic complexity.
Social media amplifies comparison and moralizes body size.
None of this is your fault. And all of it shapes your experience.
This is why understanding the science matters. This is why telling the truth matters. This is why sharing stories matters.
In the book, More Than a Body, Lindsay and Lexie Kite describe how women are taught to relate to themselves through constant self-monitoring. Instead of living inside our bodies, we learn to watch ourselves from the outside. We assess how we look, how we are perceived, and whether our bodies are acceptable in a given moment.
This constant self-surveillance does real harm. It pulls attention away from hunger, pain, fatigue, and intuition. It trains women to override bodily signals in favor of appearance management. And over time, it creates a split where the body is treated as a project to control rather than a system to understand or care for.
When you layer this kind of self-objectification on top of chronic stress, restriction, illness, and trauma, the result is not empowerment. It is disconnection. And disconnection makes it even harder to hear what the body needs when something is wrong.
Weight gain is not just a biological response. It becomes a moral verdict. And that is how women end up fighting bodies that are already struggling to keep them alive.
The Inheritance Ends Here
For a long time, I believed that breaking generational cycles only applied to mothers and daughters. I do not have children, so I assumed what I inherited would simply end with me, unchanged.
Brumberg’s work helped me see this differently.
What we inherit is not passed down only through parenting. It moves through tone, silence, and self-talk. It appears in how women speak about their bodies in front of others. It lives in the way shame is normalized.
I inherited a legacy of body shame. Even on the days when I still feel its weight, I am choosing not to repeat it.
For me, the inheritance ends with telling the truth about this journey and refusing to speak to my body with the same cruelty I absorbed growing up. It ends here.
Closing the Circle: Your Body Is Not Broken
I wish I could end this with a simple story of resolution. I cannot. I am still in the middle of this. I still grieve. I still struggle with eating and movement. I am still learning how to inhabit a body that feels unfamiliar.
But I know this: my body is not my enemy. She is not malfunctioning. She is adapting to a lifetime of stress, illness, restriction, and emotional weight.
If you are in a similar place, I hope this offers permission to stop fighting yourself and start understanding the patterns your body is following. Not because everything will suddenly improve, but because clarity is often the first form of compassion.
Your body is not betraying you. She is trying to keep you here.
And sometimes the most honest thing we can do is admit that we are still finding our way.
References
Brumberg, J. J. (1997). The Body Project: An Intimate History of American Girls. Random House.
Lassek, W. D., & Gaulin, S. J. C. (2011). Why Women Need Fat: How “Healthy” Food Makes Us Gain Excess Weight and the Surprising Solution to Losing It Forever. Hudson Street Press.
Kite, L., & Kite, L. (2020). More Than a Body: Your Body Is an Instrument, Not an Ornament. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.
Scientific and academic sources
Lassek, W. D., & Gaulin, S. J. C. (2006). Changes in body fat distribution in relation to parity in American women. Evolution and Human Behavior, 27(3), 173–185.
Lassek, W. D., & Gaulin, S. J. C. (2008). Waist–hip ratio and cognitive ability. Proceedings of the Royal Society B, 275(1644), 193–199.
Dulloo, A. G., Jacquet, J., & Montani, J. P. (2015). Adaptive thermogenesis in human body-weight regulation. Obesity Reviews, 16(S1), 33–43.
Fothergill, E., et al. (2016). Persistent metabolic adaptation after weight loss. Obesity, 24(8), 1612–1619.
Kyle, U. G., et al. (2004). Body composition interpretation. American Journal of Clinical Nutrition, 79(6), 955–962.
Simopoulos, A. P. (2016). Omega-6/omega-3 balance and obesity risk. Nutrients, 8(3), 128.
Trauma, stress, and nervous system context
Sapolsky, R. M. (2004). Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers. Henry Holt and Company.
Walker, P. (2013). Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving. Azure Coyote Books.
In recent decades, the Law of Attraction has become one of the most influential belief systems in wellness, self-help, and multilevel marketing (MLM) circles. Its premise is seductively simple: your thoughts shape your reality. Think positively, and abundance will flow; dwell on negativity, and you’ll attract misfortune.
We have discussed the pitfalls of Law of attraction in a previous episode, you can find here.
🎙️ Another throwback episode is linked below, where I unpack my journey from wellness fanatic within MLM into a high-control religion. Together, we explore the wild “crunchy hippie to alt-right pipeline.” 🌿➡️🛑 social media, influencers, and wellness hype quietly nudge people toward extreme ideas, and in this episode, we break down exactly how. 🎧🔥
This modern doctrine of “mind over matter” is often traced to The Secret (2006) by Rhonda Byrne, but its genealogy is much older. It reaches back to New Thought philosophy of the 19th century, where figures like Ralph Waldo Emerson, Phineas Quimby, and later Mary Baker Eddy (founder of Christian Science) claimed that divine thought itself was the engine of reality. These Mind Cure and faith healing movements linked spirt and matter together. Disease, poverty, and suffering were seen as products of “wrong or stinking thinking.” Salvation was not just spiritual but cognitive: change your thinking, change your life.
and so again I say: It is shockingly right instead of shockingly wrong of you to be prosperous. Obviously, you cannot be very happy if you are poor and you need not be poor. It is a sin. –Catherine Ponder (The Dynamic Laws of Prosperity)
In fact, it is the search for spiritual healing of the body that led to what is known today as prosperity consciousness or in Christian evangelism, it’s prosperity theology.
That intellectual lineage matters because it shows how the Law of Attraction has always been more than a harmless pep talk. It represents a cosmology of control, one that locates all responsibility (and blame) within the individual mind. As we have discussed many times before, Jonathan Haidt observes in The Righteous Mind, belief systems serve a dual function: they bind communities together and blind them to alternative explanations.
In this sense, the Law of Attraction doesn’t just inspire positive thinking; it narrows. By framing success and failure as purely mental vibrations, it obscures structural realities like economic inequality, physical health and genetic limitations, racism, or corporate exploitation.
And that narrowing is precisely what makes it the perfect handmaiden to MLM culture.
When Positive Thinking Becomes a Business Model
Robert L. FitzPatrick, in False Profits and Ponzinomics, describes MLMs as “endless chain” recruitment schemes. What sustains them isn’t product sales but the constant influx of hopeful recruits. Yet these schemes require something more than numbers: they require belief.
Here, the Law of Attraction becomes the MLM’s best salesman. Distributors are told:
Failure isn’t about the structure of the business; it’s about your mindset.
Doubt is “negative energy” that will block your success.
Quitting is not just a business choice but a moral failing.
In the Amway training program, the “ABCs of Success” are “Attitude, Belief and Commitment.” Attitude was the key which must be guarded. Don’t let anyone steal your attitude. Negative was defined as “whatever influence weakens your belief and commitment in the business” -False Profits
This is where Norman Vincent Peale’s “positive thinking” gospel dovetails with MLM. In his 1948 book Positive Thinking for a Time Like This, Peale popularized the phrase
“Let go and let God. Let Him take over your life and run it. He knows how.”
While originally a call to spiritual surrender, the phrase has since been weaponized in countless contexts from Holiness movements to Alcoholics Anonymous to prosperity preaching. At its worst, it functions as a silencer: don’t question, don’t resist, don’t think critically. Just “let go,” and trust that outcomes (or uplines) will provide.
Eastern Orthodox Christianity has a word for this: prelest. It’s the belief that human beings are so easily deceived that any private sense of spiritual progress — a feeling of clarity, joy, empowerment, even a mystical experience — can’t be trusted on its own. Without humility and the guidance of a spiritual father, you’re told it may just be pride, delusion, or the devil in disguise.
That’s the trap: you can’t trust your own mind, heart, or gut. The only “safe” option is obedience to the system. Which is exactly how MLMs and other high-control groups operate — undermining self-trust to keep you dependent.
Nietzsche would have called this a kind of slave morality, a belief system that encourages resignation to suffering rather than rebellion against unjust structures. The Law of Attraction, framed in this way, doesn’t challenge MLM exploitation; it sanctifies it.
More powerful than any product, charismatic leader, or compensation plan, the MLM mindset materials (the tapes, courses, and “personal development” kits) are the prime tools used to recruit and control distributors. Once you’re in the system, you’re encouraged to buy these materials week after week, keeping you invested emotionally and financially while feeding the company’s bottom line.
I went back through my Facebook to find some goodies for you! 😜This photo says “My energy creates my reality. What I focus on is what I will Manifest.” Here is the original caption so you can hear how brainwashed I was. “💥🙌🏼Belief is a feeling of certainty about something, driven by emotion. Feeling certain means that it feels true to you and therefore it is your reality. 💥🙌🏼 💪🏼 What you focus on you find 💪🏼 👀 You’ve got to believe it, to see it 👀”
Flashback to my first corporate event Aug 2016. My upline purchased my flight basically forcing me to go.
My caption at the time: 🤮
🔥IGNITE YOUR VISION! 🔥 ⚡Attended an event that changed my life. Showed me the massive vision of this company. 🤗Join our passionate, growing team of 18-35-year-olds striving for extraordinary lives and ownership of health, dreams, and contributions. 🤩Returning to this LIFE CHANGING event soon! Nashville, TN—let’s learn, grow, and celebrate!
Sounds inspiring, right? Except what they’re really selling is mandatory product purchases, endless hype, and a community that keeps you chasing the next status milestone. That “massive vision” isn’t about your health or dreams—it’s about the company’s bottom line.
Words like passionate, extraordinary, innovators, ownership are carefully chosen psychological nudges, making you feel like life itself is on the line if you’re not on board. And the countdown to the next “life-changing” event? Keeps you spending, attending, and emotionally hooked.
This is exactly what FitzPatrick calls out in Ponzinomics: the sales rep is the best customer. Only a tiny fraction of participants earn anything; the rest are paying to stay inspired.
More flashback images from my cult days….
The Psychological Toll
When these elements collide the New Thought inheritance of “mind over matter,” Peale’s positive thinking, religious community networks and MLM compensation plans… the result is a high-control environment dressed in empowerment language.
The outcomes are rarely empowering:
Blame and guilt when inevitable losses occur.
Anxiety from the demand to maintain “high vibrations.”
Suppression of doubt, lest skepticism be mistaken for weakness.
Financial harm disguised as personal failure.
In wellness communities, this logic extends beyond money. If essential oils don’t heal your illness, it’s because your mindset was wrong. If the diet doesn’t work, it’s because you didn’t “believe” enough. Structural realities (biology, medicine, inequality) are flattened into personal responsibility.
As Haidt warns, morality (and by extension ideology) can both bind and blind. The Law of Attraction, when paired with MLM, binds participants into a shared culture of hope and positivity while blinding them to exploitation.
Connecting the Dots: Bodybuilding, Metabolism & Team Isagenix
A couple weeks ago on the podcast, I shared about my bodybuilding years and the metabolic fallout I still live with today. I had forgotten how much of that season was actually entangled with my Isagenix obsession. My upline (the couple who enrolled me) were a part of Team Isagenix®, and I craved the validation of being “seen” as a successful athlete inside that community.
The requirements were brutal: placing in the top three of multiple competitions in a short span of time. So, between May 2017 and October 2018, I crammed in four shows in just 18 months. No off-season. No recovery. Just constant prep cycles. My metabolism never had a chance to stabilize, and I pushed myself past healthy limits. I wrecked my body and I’m still paying the price.
This is why I push back so hard when people insist that success is all about having a “positive enough” attitude to manifest it. My mindset was ironclad. What I lacked the conscious awareness that valued human health over recruitment and body image. That drive wasn’t just about stage lights and trophies. It was about proving my worth to an MLM culture that dangled prestige as the price of belonging. Team Isagenix® made the bar steep, and I was determined to clear it, no matter the cost.
And if you need proof of how deep this “mindset over matter” indoctrination goes, look no further than my old upline…now rebranded as a Manifestation Coach. Picture the classic boss-babe felt hat, paired with a website promising “signature mindset tools for rapid results.” According to her, if fear or doubt was “shrinking your dreams,” this was your moment to “flip it.” She name-drops 8-figure companies, influencers, and visionaries (the usual credibility glitter) while selling memberships, live events, and 7-day challenges.
It’s the same pitch recycled: your struggle isn’t systemic, it’s your mindset. If you’re not living your “life you truly love,” it’s because you haven’t invested enough in flipping the script (with her paid framework, of course). The MLM grind culture just got a new coat of “manifesting” paint.
🧠 Isagenix Programs & Their Psychological Impact
Healthy Mind and Body Program: A 60-day “mindset” initiative framed as holistic wellness. In practice, it ties product use to personal development, creating behavioral conditioning and binding members into a sense of shared identity and belonging. 🚩
IsaBody Challenge: A 16-week transformation contest requiring regular Isagenix product purchases. Completion comes with swag and vouchers; finalists are paraded as “success stories,” gamifying loyalty and dangling prestige as bait. The grand prize winner earns $25,000 but most participants earn only deeper entanglement. 🚩
Team Isagenix: Marketed as a prestige group for elite athletes with current national certifications, offering exclusivity and aspirational branding. This elevates certain members as “proof” of the products’ legitimacy, fueling both loyalty and recruitment. 🚩
Product Consumption: Isagenix requires 100 PV every 30 days just to remain “active.” This equates to about $150/month you HAVE to spend. On paper, bonuses and ranks promise unlimited potential. In reality, most associates struggle to recoup even their monthly product costs. Personal development rhetoric and community belonging often eclipse these financial realities, keeping participants cycling through hope, debt, and blame. 🚩
🤮🐦🔥 “Transform Your Life with Isagenix | Empowering Wellness and Wealth” 🐦🔥 🤮
Watch closely, because this is where the magic happens: the company paints a picture of limitless opportunity, but as Robert L. FitzPatrick lays out in Ponzinomics, the secret is that the sales rep is the best customer. That’s right… the real profits aren’t coming from your vague dreams of financial freedom; they’re coming from the people who are already buying the products and trying to climb the ranks.
The numbers don’t lie. According to Isagenix’s own disclosure: the overall average annual income for associates is $892. Among those who actually earned anything, the average jumps to $3,994. Do the math: $892 ÷ $3,994 ≈ 0.223 — meaning only about 22% of associates earn anything at all. The other 78%? Zero. Nada. Zilch.
And before you start fantasizing about that $3,994, remember: that’s before expenses. Let’s run a realistic scenario based on actual product spend:
$150/month on products or promotional materials = $1,800/year → net ≈ $2,194 − $1,800 = $1,194 before other costs.
Factor in travel, events, or socials? That $1,194 could easily drop to near zero…or negative.
The point: the so-called “income potential” evaporates fast when you account for the mandatory spending MLMs require. The only thing truly transformed is the company’s bottom line, not yours.
No wonder the comments are turned off.
Apparently, nobody actually crunches the numbers while the marketing spiel promises energy, strength, and vitality as if a shake could fix financial exploitation, metabolic burnout, and guilt-tripping at the same time.
My story is just one case study of how these tactics play out in real lives: I was recruited through trusted connections, emotionally manipulated with promises of transformation, pressured into relentless product use, and left with financial strain and long-lasting health consequences. That’s the “empowerment” MLMs sell and it’s why scrutiny matters.
Cultural Ecosystems That Enable MLMs
MLMs don’t operate in a vacuum. They flourish where belief structures already normalize submission to authority, truth-claims, and tightly networked communities. Evangelicals and the LDS Church provide striking examples: tight-knit congregations, missionary training in persuasion, and a cultural emphasis on self-reliance and communal obligation create fertile ground for recruitment.
Companies like Nu Skin, Young Living, doTERRA, and Melaleuca have disproportionately strong followings in Utah and among Mormon communities. FitzPatrick notes that MLMs thrive where trust networks and shared values make persuasion easier. The kind of environment where aspirational marketing and “prestige” teams can latch onto pre-existing social structures.
In short, it’s not just the products or the promises of positive thinking; it’s where belief, community, and culture all collide… that allows MLMs to hook people and keep them chasing elusive success.
Beyond Magical Thinking
The critique, then, is not of hope or positivity per se, but of weaponized optimism. When mantras like let go and let God or just thinking positive to manifest it are used to shut down discernment, discourage action, or excuse exploitation, they cease to be spiritual tools and become instruments of control.
Nietzsche challenged us to look beyond systems that sanctify passivity, urging instead a confrontation with reality even when it is brutal. FitzPatrick’s work extends this challenge to the world of commerce: if we truly care about empowerment, we must be willing to see how belief systems can be manipulated for profit.
That’s why MLMs and the Law of Attraction deserve scrutiny. Not because they promise too much, but because they redirect responsibility away from unjust structures and onto the very people they exploit.
Coming Up: A Deeper Dive
Next week on the podcast, I’ll be speaking with Robert L. FitzPatrick, author of False Profits and one of the world’s leading experts on MLMs. With decades of research, FitzPatrick has testified in court cases exposing fraudulent MLM schemes and helped unravel the mechanisms behind these multi-billion-dollar operations. He’s seen firsthand how MLMs manipulate culture, co-opt spirituality, and turn belief itself into a product.
Stay tuned. This is a conversation about more than scams, it’s about the machinery of belief, and how it shapes our lives in ways we rarely see.
Byrne, Rhonda. The Secret. New York: Atria Books, 2006.
Eddy, Mary Baker. Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures. Boston: The Christian Science Publishing Society, 1875.
Emerson, Ralph Waldo. The Essential Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Edited by Brooks Atkinson. New York: Modern Library, 2000.
FitzPatrick, Robert L. False Profits: Seeking Financial and Spiritual Deliverance in Multi-Level Marketing and Pyramid Schemes. Charlotte, NC: Herald Press, 1997.
FitzPatrick, Robert L. Ponzinomics: The Untold Story of Multi-Level Marketing. Charlotte, NC: Skyhorse Publishing, 2020.
Haidt, Jonathan. The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion. New York: Vintage Books, 2012.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. On the Genealogy of Morals. Edited by Walter Kaufmann. New York: Vintage Books, 1989 (originally published 1887).
Peale, Norman Vincent. Positive Thinking for a Time Like This. New York: Prentice-Hall, 1948.
Quimby, Phineas P. The Quimby Manuscripts. Edited by Horatio W. Dresser. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1921.
Wallace, David Foster. “Consider the Lobster.” In Consider the Lobster and Other Essays. New York: Little, Brown, 2005. (Useful on consumer culture critique, if you want a modern edge.)
If you’re a woman in midlife witnessing changes in your body, let’s be honest—hearing one more expert say “just move more and eat less” might make you scream. That tired, oversimplified advice ignores the very real ways our bodies change—and the decades of life we’ve already lived in them.
Midlife, generally defined as the ages between 37 and 65, isn’t just a calendar phase. It’s a biological, emotional, and identity-shifting chapter. For women, it often marks the beginning of perimenopause—the transitional period leading up to menopause, when the ovaries gradually produce less estrogen. Menopause itself is defined as the 12-month mark after your final menstrual period, but the hormonal fluctuations and symptoms often begin years before and can last well beyond that point.
To really understand what’s happening in our bodies now, we have to rewind the clock.
From puberty, our bodies have been shaped by an elegant hormonal dance. Estrogen, progesterone, and to a lesser extent testosterone, govern everything from our cycle to our skin, from our energy to our emotional responses. These hormones rise and fall in predictable patterns until they don’t. And when they don’t, you feel it.
Hot flashes. Sleep disruptions. Brain fog. Mood swings. Slower recovery from workouts. A scale that doesn’t seem to budge no matter what you do. And the silent undercurrents like the gradual loss of bone density—osteopenia—that often go unnoticed until it’s too late.
These aren’t random annoyances. They’re signals. And they deserve to be understood.
In this post and in today’s podcast episode, I talk with registered dietitian and research wizard Maryann Jacobsen about what actually helps us thrive during perimenopause and menopause. We get into why muscle is metabolic gold, why cardio isn’t always the answer, and how biofeedback your body’s own cues like hunger, energy, sleep, and mood can tell you more about what’s working than any calorie tracker or influencer’s reel ever could.
We also challenge the idea that your bathroom scale is the best measure of health. Spoiler alert: it’s not. Tools like DEXA scans provide deeper insight into your bone density and lean mass—two things that matter more than “weight” ever could in this stage of life. And while your smart scale using bioelectrical impedance might not be as accurate, it can still help you track general trends if you know how to interpret it.
One part of our conversation that hit me hard was Maryann’s mention of the body fat research around fertility. Scientists have found that a minimum of 17% body fat is required just to get a menstrual cycle, and about 22% is needed to maintain ovulation. But here’s the real shocker: in mature women, regular ovulatory cycles are often supported best at 26–28% body fat. (PMID: 3117838, 2282736) That means what many of us have been taught to chase ultra-lean physiques (around 17 BF% or so), chronic calorie restriction, or overtraining can actually backfire on our reproductive health, bone health, and overall vitality.
In populations where food is scarce or physical demands are high, we see patterns: delayed first periods, longer gaps between births, earlier menopause. It’s the body adapting for survival. But in modern life, we sometimes impose these same conditions on ourselves in the name of “fitness.”
And while estrogen usually gets the spotlight in menopause care often treated as the main character it’s progesterone that deserves a standing ovation. Many women are told they “need progesterone” just to protect themselves from estrogen’s effects, as if it’s merely a buffer. But that undersells its brilliance.
The name progesterone literally means “pro-gestation,” but its impact goes far beyond fertility. Progesterone is a master regulator. It stabilizes tissues, supports metabolic balance, calms inflammation, protects against stress, and even plays a role in brain health. While estrogen stimulates, progesterone shields. While estrogen builds, progesterone restores.
Fascinatingly, our bodies produce far more progesterone than estrogen especially after ovulation and during pregnancy. That’s not a fluke. It reflects just how critical progesterone is to our overall well-being.
So when ovulation slows or disappears in midlife, it’s not just your period going quiet. It’s this entire downstream network of hormonal resilience especially progesterone that starts to fade. And that’s when symptoms ramp up.
Understanding this isn’t just about managing menopause. It’s about honoring your biology, updating your strategy, and supporting your body like the powerful, responsive system it actually is.
If we want to balance and optimize our hormones in midlife, we have to re-evaluate our goals. This isn’t about grinding harder it’s about getting smarter. And to get smarter, we need to zoom out.
Ovulation isn’t just some fertility footnote-it’s the main event of your cycle. But many of us were taught that the bleed is the cycle. Nope. That’s just the after-party. The headliner? Ovulation.
Why does this matter in midlife?
Because ovulation is what triggers the production of progesterone a hormone that plays a critical role in metabolism, mood, sleep, brain function, and bone health. And spoiler: progesterone is the first to dip off the radar as we enter perimenopause. That’s why your energy feels off, your sleep gets weird, and your tolerance for stress tanks. Your body isn’t broken—it’s adapting.
Here’s where things click into place: your body will only ovulate consistently if it feels safe and nourished. That means you’re eating enough, not overtraining, and not living in a cortisol-fueled chaos spiral.
Ovulation isn’t just about reproduction it’s a vital sign of health. And the two hormones that anchor your entire cycle, estrogen and progesterone, do so much more than regulate periods.
From bone density to brain function, from insulin sensitivity to mitochondrial health, these hormones influence nearly every system in your body. So, when they fluctuate…. or flatline… you feel it. Not just in your body, but in your entire day to day experience.
So, let’s break the rules, rewrite the midlife playbook, and finally start listening to the wisdom our bodies have been whispering all along.
Let’s talk about one of the most persistent pieces of weight-loss advice ever given:
“Just eat less and move more.”
On the surface, it sounds reasonable. If weight loss were simply a matter of reducing calories and increasing activity, we’d expect long-term success rates to be much higher than they are. Instead, many people find themselves caught in a cycle of restriction, weight regain, and frustration.
The problem isn’t that calories are irrelevant. The problem is that the slogan reduces a complex biological process to a simple equation.
For decades, we’ve been taught to think about the body like a math problem: calories in versus calories out. But human beings aren’t closed systems operating under laboratory conditions. We’re dynamic, adaptive organisms influenced by hormones, stress, sleep, appetite regulation, past dieting history, genetics, environment, and countless other variables that affect how energy is used, stored, and conserved.
In previous episodes, we’ve explored the limitations of calorie-focused thinking and discussed research showing that our beliefs and expectations about food can influence physiological responses. Today, we’re taking that conversation a step further.
Because once you move beyond simplistic explanations, metabolism becomes far more interesting.
The questions aren’t just how much we eat, but what we eat, when we eat, why we eat, and how our bodies adapt over time. Those factors help explain why the same dietary strategy can produce dramatically different outcomes for different people.
Before we examine the limitations of modern diet advice, it’s worth asking a different question:
How did calories become the primary way we think about food in the first place?
To answer that, we need a little historical context.
The History of the Calorie
The calorie, as a unit of measurement, has a fascinating history that ties directly into today’s conversation. While many people assume calories have always been the standard way to understand food and metabolism, their adoption is actually a relatively recent development shaped by scientific discovery, public health initiatives, and changing cultural attitudes toward weight and nutrition.
The Origin of the Calorie
The concept of the calorie originated in physics, not nutrition.
In the early nineteenth century, French chemist Nicolas Clément introduced the term calorie as a unit of heat energy. Later, scientists such as Wilbur Olin Atwater adapted the concept to human metabolism, conducting experiments to estimate how much energy food released when burned.
Atwater’s work eventually produced the familiar caloric values we still use today:
Fat: 9 calories per gram
Carbohydrate: 4 calories per gram
Protein: 4 calories per gram
Alcohol: 7 calories per gram
These values became the foundation of modern nutrition science and remain embedded in food labels around the world.
The Rise of Caloric Nutrition
By the early twentieth century, calories became an important public health tool.
Governments used calorie estimates to address malnutrition, design military rations, and manage food supplies during both World Wars. At a time when food scarcity was a major concern, understanding energy needs was enormously valuable.
As food became more abundant throughout the twentieth century, however, the conversation shifted. Rather than asking how to get enough calories, public health experts increasingly focused on how to avoid consuming too many.
This shift laid the groundwork for the modern weight-loss industry and the growing emphasis on calorie counting as a primary strategy for weight management.
The calories in, calories out (CICO) model became increasingly influential during the twentieth century. Grounded in the First Law of Thermodynamics, it framed weight change as a matter of energy balance: consume more energy than you expend and weight increases; consume less and weight decreases.
At a basic level, this is true. Energy does not simply appear or disappear.
The challenge is that many people began treating a principle from physics as a complete explanation of human metabolism.
Human beings are not bomb calorimeters. We are living, adaptive systems. Hormones influence hunger and satiety. Metabolism adjusts to periods of restriction. Different foods require different amounts of energy to digest. Sleep, stress, illness, medications, movement patterns, and prior dieting history can all influence how the body uses and stores energy.
Over time, researchers began recognizing that while energy balance matters, it is only one piece of a much larger picture.
Some of the factors that influence metabolism and weight regulation include:
Hormonal signaling, including insulin, leptin, ghrelin, cortisol, and thyroid hormones
Metabolic adaptation during periods of caloric restriction
Differences in food quality and macronutrient composition
The thermic effect of food
Gut microbiome composition
Sleep quality and circadian rhythms
Psychological and behavioral factors that shape eating patterns
A More Nuanced Conversation
As research in metabolism and endocrinology expanded, scientists began asking more sophisticated questions.
Researchers such as David Ludwig and Robert Lustig drew attention to the ways hormones, food processing, and metabolic regulation influence health outcomes beyond calorie counts alone.
This led to renewed interest in dietary approaches such as low-carbohydrate and ketogenic diets. Advocates argued that insulin regulation and metabolic signaling deserved far more attention than they had traditionally received.
My own view is that the conversation is often framed too narrowly.
Carbohydrates may influence blood sugar regulation, but they are only one variable among many. Over the years, I’ve spent a great deal of time educating clients and audiences about the numerous factors that influence metabolic health. Stress, sleep, inflammation, meal timing, physical activity, gut health, hormonal status, medications, social environment, and dieting history all contribute to what I often think of as a person’s metabolic terrain.
Where Are We Now?
Today, the calorie remains a useful measurement tool, but most serious discussions of metabolism extend well beyond simple arithmetic. The question is no longer whether calories matter.
The question is whether calorie counts alone can adequately explain why two people eating the same number of calories may experience dramatically different outcomes.
Increasingly, the answer appears to be no. Calories matter. Biology matters too.
And that’s where today’s conversation begins.
Today, I’m joined by Adam Kosloff, a writer and independent researcher whose work explores obesity, metabolism, and the assumptions that shape modern nutrition science. I first encountered Adam’s work through a Substack essay A Righteous Assault on the Absolute Worst Idea in the History of Science, behind the provocative title was a question that immediately caught my attention:
Have we reduced metabolism to an overly simplistic equation?
Adam argues that while energy balance matters, the standard calories in, calories out explanation often fails to capture the complexity of living systems.
In response, he developed what he calls the Farmer Model—a framework that encourages us to think about metabolism as an ecosystem rather than a simple accounting problem.
The metaphor is straightforward. A farmer doesn’t judge the health of a field solely by measuring inputs and outputs. They also pay attention to soil quality, weather patterns, biodiversity, water availability, and the countless conditions that influence what grows.
Adam suggests that metabolism may deserve a similarly holistic perspective.
Whether you agree with every aspect of the model or not, I think he’s asking worthwhile questions.
After all, if obesity and metabolic disease were fully explained by “eat less and move more,” we would likely have solved these problems decades ago.
Instead, we’re left with a more complicated reality. Human metabolism is influenced by hormones, food quality, sleep, stress, activity levels, genetics, environment, prior dieting history, and a host of other interacting variables.
In our conversation, Adam and I explore where the traditional calorie model is useful, where it may fall short, and why many researchers, clinicians, and patients continue searching for more comprehensive explanations.
The goal isn’t to replace one form of dogma with another.
It’s to have a more honest conversation about complexity.
The takeaway? The “move more, eat less” doctrine is outdated and incomplete. It’s time for a more sophisticated conversation about metabolism that acknowledges the complexity of the human body rather than reducing it to a basic math equation.
In this week’s Taste of Truth Tuesdays podcast episode, we’re diving into an issue that has been brewing in the wellness world—particularly within the anti-MLM (Multi-Level Marketing) community. While many of us recognize the toxicity of MLM schemes in the beauty, wellness, and health industries, there’s another area where the promotion of questionable health products is happening: the food industry.
It’s strange, really. The same voices that speak out against MLMs’ manipulative practices often promote highly processed, sugar-laden foods in the name of convenience, cost-effectiveness, and even “health.” You’ve likely heard some of these food brands positioned as “healthier alternatives”—like Hawaiian Fruit Punch or cinnamon toast cereals—with a wink and a nod suggesting they’re okay to indulge in because they’re “fun,” “easy,” or “fortified” with vitamins. But here’s the truth: these products aren’t the wholesome treats they’re often presented as. The U.S. food system is more complicated—and far more dangerous—than most people realize.
How Many New Chemicals Are in Our Food?
Between 2000 and 2021, 766 new chemicalswere introduced into the U.S. food supply. That’s right—thousands of chemicals and additives have been added to our foods without the rigorous review process people assume exists for food safety. In fact, 98.7% of these chemicals were approved through a loophole called the Generally Recognized as Safe (GRAS) pathway, which allows companies to self-certify their ingredients as safe, bypassing FDA review altogether. This system has enabled potentially harmful chemicals to enter our food without independent oversight.
The implications for consumer health are serious. These chemicals include artificial colors, flavor enhancers, preservatives, and sweeteners linked to various health issues. And because the FDA doesn’t maintain a comprehensive list of all the chemicals in our food, the lack of oversight should concern everyone.
The Problem with Self-Certification: Why HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. Is Pushing Back
It’s a real problem when the system designed to ensure food safety operates like the fox guarding the henhouse. Under the GRAS loophole, manufacturers can decide for themselves whether an ingredient is safe, meaning many additives in foods like sugary cereals or drinks may never have undergone adequate safety testing. As a result, foods marketed as “harmless fun” or “nutritious” could contain chemicals with long-term health risks.
In response, Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has directed the FDA to explore eliminating the GRAS loophole. His argument? The current system treats chemicals as “innocent until proven guilty” rather than requiring manufacturers to prove safety before using them in food. Kennedy is pushing for greater FDA oversight to hold companies accountable for the ingredients they use—especially those with potential long-term health effects.
The Irony of Anti-MLM Advocates Promoting Big Food Products
Here’s where things get ironic: Many anti-MLM advocates call out the harmful ingredients in MLM products like shakes or vitamins, exposing their pseudoscience and shady marketing tactics. Yet, these same people turn a blind eye when it comes to mass-market food brands like Hawaiian Fruit Punch and sugary cereals.
Why? Because these products are marketed as “fun,” “easy,” or “family-friendly” and don’t carry the same stigma as MLMs. The problem is, these mass-market foods are often loaded with added sugars, artificial colors, and preservatives that have well-documented links to obesity, diabetes, and other chronic illnesses.
The Truth: Real Nutrition vs. Big Food’s Agenda
The food industry operates much like MLMs in how it prioritizes profit over consumer health. While MLMs exploit their members with empty wellness promises, Big Food capitalizes on our craving for convenience and nostalgia. If they can make something taste good, look appealing, and market it as a childhood favorite, we’ll keep buying it—regardless of its actual nutritional value.
As consumers, we need to recognize that just because something is widely available and heavily marketed doesn’t make it safe. Many of these products contain additives that have never been thoroughly tested or reviewed by the FDA. So, while it’s important to call out MLMs for misleading practices, we can’t ignore the fact that Big Food is playing the same game with what we eat.
Conclusion: What We Can Do About It
In this week’s podcast, we discussed the need for greater transparency and awareness in the food industry. Just like with MLMs, it’s crucial to remain skeptical and stay curious about what’s being marketed to us as “healthy.” Whether it’s a pre-packaged drink or a processed cereal, understanding what’s actually in these products can help us make better, more informed choices about what we’re putting into our bodies.
But beyond skepticism, real empowerment comes from reclaiming control over our food choices—getting back to the basics, connecting with local farmers, growing our own food, and learning how to cook from scratch. The more we detach from the processed food system and build relationships with those who produce real, whole foods, the less power these corporations have over our health.
For those wondering where to start, there are resources to help. Websites like LocalHarvest.org make it easy to find nearby farmers’ markets, family farms, and CSAs (Community Supported Agriculture) in your area. Many farmers’ markets even accept food stamps through the SNAP program, making fresh, local food more accessible than ever. Programs like USDA’s Farmers Market Nutrition Program (FMNP) also help connect families with nutritious, farm-fresh options.
This isn’t about fear—it’s about freedom. The freedom to nourish ourselves and our families with food we trust, to support local communities instead of faceless conglomerates, and to opt out of a system that prioritizes profit over well-being.
Let’s keep asking questions, seeking better alternatives, and finding ways to reconnect with real food. And as always, let’s maintain our curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep questioning what we’re told is “safe.”
Sources:
Center for Science in the Public Interest. (n.d.). GRAS loophole and FDA food safety concerns. https://www.cspinet.org
Environmental Working Group. (n.d.). Thousands of chemicals in our food system remain unregulated. https://www.ewg.org
I had a lot of different topics in mind for my final solo episode of Taste of Truth Tuesdays Season 3. For example, The Stress-Mitochondria Connection: How B vitamins, Taurine and Magnesium Fuel your Energy, A world without religion: Freedom or Fragmentation, How Emotional Trauma contributes to Chronic Pain or the Social Media Dilemma How to Break Free from the Digital Grip… But then, a new development landed right in my lap—one that perfectly encapsulates the concerning trends I’ve been observing in the deconstruction, ex-Christian, anti-MLM, and ex-cult communities.
My friend Brandie, who I had on in Season 2 for the episode From Serendipity to Scrutiny, recently blocked me. And why? Because I simply pushed back and asked questions. We’d had some private conversations in the DMs that had already raised red flags for me, but apparently, even the slightest bit of pushback was enough to get me cut off. This isn’t just about one friendship—it’s about a much bigger pattern I’ve seen unfolding.
The Deconstruction Pipeline: When Leaving a High-Control Group Means Entering Another
One of the biggest ironies in the ExChristian circles is how quickly people flee high-control religious environments only to land in equally dogmatic ideological spaces. This isn’t a coincidence—it’s human nature. As Jonathan Haidt lays out in The Righteous Mind, our reasoning evolved more for argumentation than truth-seeking. We are wired for confirmation bias, and when we leave one belief system, we often replace it with another that feels equally absolute but now appears “rational” or “liberating.”
This is where figures like Steven Hassan and Janja Lalich come in (because this isn’t just about Brandie) self-proclaimed experts on cults who, ironically, exhibit the same control tactics they claim to expose. Hassan, a former Moonie turned cult deprogrammer, has made a career out of helping people escape authoritarian religious systems. But a deeper look at his work reveals an ideological bent (it’s hard to ignore). He frequently frames conservative or traditional religious beliefs as inherently cult-like while giving progressive or leftist movements a pass. He has called Trumpism a cult but is conspicuously silent on the high-control tactics within certain progressive activist spaces. His criteria for what constitute undue influence seem to shift depending on the political context, (BITE model) making his framework less about critical thinking and more about reinforcing his preferred ideological narrative. I did what Hassan won’t: use his own model to break down the mind control tactics of the extreme left.
Janja Lalich follows a similar pattern. A (supposedly) former Marxist-Leninist, she applies her cult analysis primarily to religious and right-wing groups while glossing over the coercive elements in the far-left spaces she once occupied (or still does). Her work is valuable in breaking down how high-demand groups operate, but she, too, appears to have blind spots when it comes to ideological echo chambers outside of the religious sphere. These represent a pattern rather than an isolated incident. Other platforms like (The New Evangelicals,Dr. Pete Enns (The Bible for Normal People), Eve was framed,Jesus Unfollower, Dr. Laura Anderson just to name a few.) highlight control tactics when they appear in traditional or conservative groups but fail to apply the same scrutiny to their own ideological circles.
This selective analysis creates a dangerous illusion: it allows people leaving fundamentalist religious spaces to believe they are now “free thinkers” while unknowingly adopting another rigid belief system. The deconstruction pipeline often leads former evangelicals straight into progressive activism, where purity tests, ideological loyalty, and social shaming operate just as effectively as they did in the church. The language changes: “sin” becomes “problematic,” “heresy” becomes “harmful rhetoric”, but the mechanisms remain the same.
Haidt’s work on moral foundations helps explain this phenomenon. Progressive and conservative worldviews are built on different moral intuitions, but both can be taken to extremes. The key to avoiding ideological capture is intellectual humility—the ability to recognize that no belief system has a monopoly on truth and that reason itself can be weaponized for tribalism.
John Stuart Mill warned of this centuries ago: the greatest threat to truth is not outright censorship but the cultural and social pressures that make certain ideas unspeakable. Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt’s The Coddling of the American Mind echoes this concern, showing how overprotective thinking and emotional reasoning have created a generation that confuses disagreement with harm.
Franklin O’Kanu’s concept of the “fake intellectual” is particularly relevant here—people who claim to be champions of free thought while aggressively enforcing ideological orthodoxy.
In this episode, through my experience with Brandie, I’ll illustrate how skepticism is selectively applied, and how ‘critical thinking’ communities can become just as dogmatic as the systems they reject. And unlike Hassan or Lalich, my connection with Brandie was personal. And that’s why I felt this warranted an entire podcast episode. Because what happened with her is a microcosm of a larger issue: people leaving high-control spaces only to re-enter new ones. They are convinced that this time, they’ve finally found the “truth.” Spoiler alert: that’s not how truth works.
So, let’s talk about it.
Blocked for Asking Questions
Recently, Brandie posted on Instagram about DARVO—a psychological tactic where abusers Deny, Attack, and Reverse Victim and Offender to avoid accountability. I agree that MLMs use DARVO. But I wanted to add friendly pushback, that I’ve noticed anti-MLM advocates use similar tactics to silence critics—especially when it comes to questioning the food industry— but she had turned the comments off.
DARVO stands for Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender—a tactic frequently used by abusers, cult leaders, and high-control groups when they’re called out. It flips accountability on its head, making the person asking legitimate questions seem like the aggressor while the actual manipulator plays the victim.
How MLMs Use DARVO
Multi-Level Marketing (MLM) schemes thrive on DARVO because their entire business model is built on deception. Here’s a classic example:
Deny – A distributor is confronted with the fact that 99% of people in MLMs lose money. Instead of addressing the data, they deny it completely: “That’s just a myth! I know tons of people making six figures!”
Attack – When pressed further, they go on the offensive, accusing the skeptic of being negative or jealous: “Wow, you’re so close-minded. No wonder you’re not successful!”
Reverse Victim and Offender – Finally, they paint themselves as the victim and the questioner as the bully: “I’m just a woman trying to build a business and empower others. Why are you trying to tear me down?”
This tactic shuts down meaningful discussion and keeps people trapped in a system that exploits them.
Do you know what else exploits individuals? Fear and propaganda.
I saw this firsthand in a recent conversation with a friend who’s deeply entrenched in leftist ideologies and what I’d call “Trump Derangement Syndrome.” She shared a post warning people to change their bank accounts because of a false claim that Elon Musk’s staff had access to personal financial data. I pointed out that the post was misinformation, but instead of engaging with the facts, the conversation quickly shifted in a way that mirrors the DARVO tactic.
First, she denied that the post could be harmful or misleading. Then, she attacked me for not understanding the larger “fear” that people are feeling in the current political climate. Finally, she reversed the roles, casting herself as the victim of a chaotic world and me as the one creating unnecessary tension by questioning the post.
This is a textbook example of DARVO, a tactic that deflects accountability, shifts blame, and keeps people trapped in fear-driven narratives. It keeps them from having honest, fact-based conversations and prevents any real understanding of what’s going on around them.
How Brandie Used DARVO on Me
Ironically, despite being an anti-MLM advocate, Brandie used the exact same manipulation tactics when I pushed back on some of her positions. This is a woman who criticizes manipulative marketing tactics in MLMs, yet here she was, employing the very same tactics in our discussion. It’s a stark example of how these patterns can be so ingrained that even those who oppose them can fall into using them.
Deny – When I questioned her promotion of dietitians who endorse processed foods like Clif Z Bars (which recently faced a class-action lawsuit for misleading health claims), she refused to acknowledge the legitimate concerns. Instead, she dismissed it by claiming that caring about food ingredients was more stressful for the body than just eating the food itself—a false dichotomy that undermines any nuance in the conversation, especially when she often critiques the same logical fallacy in other contexts.
Attack – Rather than engaging with my points, she made it personal, implying that I was being antagonistic or bad-faith for even questioning her stance.
Reverse Victim and Offender – Finally, when I didn’t back down, she blocked me, flipping the narrative to make it seem like I was the one causing harm simply by asking questions.
When Therapy Becomes Thought Control: The Weaponization of Mental Health
What makes this dynamic even more interesting is that both my friend in Portland and Brandie, an anti-MLM advocate, are therapists. These conversations have all unfolded within a culture that professes to value feelings, emotional well-being, and mental health awareness. More people are going to therapy than ever before, and an increasing number of people are training to become therapists—mostly women. Currently, around 70-80% of psychologists and therapists are female, and those seeking help are also more likely to be female.
The field has increasingly become a vehicle for ideological activism. Dr. Roger McFillin has spoken extensively about this shift, describing how therapy now often reinforces victimhood narratives rather than fostering resilience. Instead of helping clients process experiences and build coping skills, many therapists nudge them toward predetermined ideological conclusions—especially in areas of identity, oppression, and systemic injustice.
This shift has eroded one of psychology’s most fundamental ethical principles: informed consent. Clients, particularly young and vulnerable individuals, are often funneled into ideological frameworks without realizing it. Under the guise of “affirming care” or “social justice-informed therapy,” therapists may subtly guide them toward specific worldviews rather than offering a full range of perspectives. What should be a process of self-discovery instead becomes thought reform, where questioning the prevailing narrative is framed as harmful or regressive.
Therapy is no longer just political—it has become a mechanism of enforcement. We see this in counseling programs that demand ideological conformity from students, in therapists who blur the line between clinical work and activism, and in public figures like Janja Lalich and Steven Hassan, who claim to expose undue influence while engaging in the same tactics. This is ideological gatekeeping disguised as expertise.
Rather than fostering open exploration, the field is increasingly defined by rigid dogma. Questioning the dominant ideology isn’t framed as critical thinking—it’s labeled as resistance, ignorance, or even harm. And when that happens, dissenting voices aren’t debated; they’re erased. If this trend continues, therapy won’t just be a tool for self-improvement. It will be a tool for social control. It already is.
The Hypocrisy of Selective Skepticism
Brandie and the anti-MLM crowd claim to combat misinformation, yet they overlook a significant issue: the influence of Big Food and Big Pharma on public health narratives.
On her social media story and in private conversations, Brandie has defended dietitians who actively promote ultra-processed foods. Some registered dietitians with large platforms endorse products like Hawaiian Punch and Clif Z Bars as acceptable—even healthy—options.
Clif Z Bars, for example, were recently involved in a $12 million class action settlement for falsely marketing their products as “healthy and nutritious.” These bars are 37% added sugar, essentially sugar bombs.
Yet, a dietitian Brandie supports feeds these bars to her young children, publicly calling them a “healthy snack.” Why is this not considered misinformation?
These conflicts of interest raise serious concerns about industry influence over public health recommendations. Yet, if you question this, you’re labeled anti-science.
This kind of blind faith in authority is no different from religious dogma. The pursuit of truth should always leave room for debate. This also highlights why blindly trusting “credentialed experts” is insufficient. Degrees and titles don’t guarantee that recommendations are free from corporate influence.
Rather than acknowledge these conflicts, Brandie and her followers discredit those asking valid questions, often accusing them of using the “Just Asking Questions” fallacy.
The “Just Asking Questions” Fallacy
A common tactic used to dismiss skepticism is labeling it as the “Just Asking Questions” (JAQ) fallacy. This fallacy occurs when people imply that merely questioning an issue is a form of misinformation or bad faith argumentation.
Many dietitians and anti-MLM advocates are deeply entrenched in mainstream narratives on topics like vaccine safety, climate change, and pharmaceutical efficacy. When skeptics ask pointed questions about these subjects, they are often accused of using JAQing off—a term that suggests they are sowing doubt without providing counter-evidence. The accusation assumes that asking difficult questions is inherently conspiratorial, rather than a legitimate means of inquiry.
But skepticism is not the same as denialism. Critical thinking demands that we interrogate all claims—especially those made by institutions with financial or ideological incentives. Dismissing questions outright only serves to protect entrenched power structures.
The Counterpoint: Intellectual Humility and the Dogma of Data
While it’s vital to engage critically with the information we’re presented, it’s equally crucial to consider the potential pitfalls of blind adherence to any ideology—whether it’s religious, political, or scientific. In the modern age, science and data have often become the new forms of dogma. The scientific community, which prides itself on skepticism and inquiry, is sometimes treated as an unassailable authority—leaving no room for dissent or alternative perspectives.
The worship of science and data as infallible can feel eerily similar to religious dogma. It demands conformity in the name of progress, dismisses alternative viewpoints, and often shuts down debate—all while asserting that it’s in the name of critical thinking and rationality. In this system, the pursuit of truth can ironically become an exercise in tribalism and intellectual rigidity.
What is critical to recognize is that science and reason themselves are not immune to bias, corruption, or influence. Take, for example, the “revolving door” between regulatory agencies and the pharmaceutical industry, which compromises the integrity of public health policies. This conflict of interest is a significant factor in the mistrust surrounding many mainstream health recommendations, especially when we see how corporate interests shape the outcomes of clinical trials, the approval of drugs, or public health initiatives.
Take the nutrition field, for example. The dietitian mentioned earlier endorses Clif Z Bars for her young children, but if you challenge this, you’re accused of being anti-science or fear-mongering.
Similarly, when figures like RFK Jr. highlight pharmaceutical industry ties to regulatory agencies, critics don’t engage with the data. Instead, they attempt to discredit the person asking the questions.
The Real Issue is Deception from Trusted Intuitions
The real misinformation often stems from corporate-backed institutions. Public trust in physicians and hospitals fell from 71.5% in April 2020 to 40.1% in January 2024—not due to misinformation, but because people witnessed firsthand the contradictions, shifting narratives, and financial incentives behind public health decisions. Trust is eroded by deception, not by questioning.
RFK Jr. isn’t “sowing doubt” for the sake of it. He’s pointing out documented cases where pharmaceutical companies have manipulated clinical trials, buried adverse data, and exercised significant influence over regulatory bodies. His book The Real Anthony Fauci outlines a heavily researched case against the unchecked power of Big Pharma and its ties to government agencies. If his claims were false, he would face lawsuits, yet his work continues to spark vital discussions.
True skepticism means demanding better science, not blindly trusting authority. The real danger lies in silencing those who ask critical questions.
Big Food and the Shaming of Health Advocates
A recent study has revealed something I find all too familiar: intimidation tactics used by industries like Big Tobacco, ultra-processed food companies, and alcohol sectors to bully and silence researchers, whistleblowers, and anyone challenging their agenda. This tactic—used by Big Food to discredit critics—reminds me of the way people are shamed or bullied for questioning processed foods or advocating for healthier diets. If you’ve ever pointed out the risks of sugary snacks or fast food, you’ve probably been labeled an extremist, a health-obsessed “wellness warrior,” or worse, a “purity culture” advocate. I can’t help but feel this is just another form of gaslighting, where we’re told that it’s worse to worry about the ingredients in our food than it is to consume those ingredients, even if they are known to contribute to chronic health conditions.
Ironically, this kind of manipulation is the same strategy Big Tobacco used for decades to muddy the waters around the health risks of smoking. And now, ultra-processed food companies are doing the same thing—distracting us from the very real, documented consequences of a poor diet.
Why We Need to Trust Ourselves, Not JUST the Experts
What frustrates me is how the anti-MLM community often jumps on wellness advocates who want to clean up their diets for health reasons. While I agree that MLMs are a breeding ground for manipulation, this should not mean we ignore the very real need to question the food industry’s stranglehold on our diets and health. It’s vital to recognize that not all experts have your best interests at heart. Many of the mainstream recommendations we’re told to follow come from organizations or industries with questionable motives—whether it’s Big Pharma, Big Food, or Big Tobacco. These same industries have a long history of misleading the public, and many of their experts are bought and paid for by corporate interests.
Wanting to improve your diet to manage or reverse chronic health conditions shouldn’t be dismissed as obsessive or extreme. It’s a rational, self-preserving choice that empowers you to take control of your health, even when the mainstream narrative tells you otherwise.
Is This Healing or Just Another High-Control Belief System?
Brandie often talks about “cult recovery” and the importance of psychological resilience. But is she really modeling resilience? Because true resilience isn’t about avoiding discomfort—it’s about engaging with it, questioning your own biases, and standing firm in discussions, even when they challenge your worldview.
Instead, she’s teaching people to coddle their minds. To create ideological echo chambers where questioning the “right” experts is heresy. To avoid any perspective that might cause discomfort. If she’s teaching people to avoid discomfort rather than work through it, I’m not sure how that aligns with the principles of ethical psychotherapy.
True healing requires grappling with discomfort, not running from it. When you teach people to shut down their discomfort rather than confront it, you’re not promoting growth—you’re just pushing them into another high-control belief system.
That’s not healing. That’s just another form of control.
And let’s be real—if your response to fair, thoughtful criticism is to shut down the conversation and block people who used to support you, you haven’t actually deconstructed anything. You’ve just built a new echo chamber with different branding.
The Bigger Picture
This isn’t just about Brandie. It’s about a larger pattern I see in the deconstruction and anti-MLM communities. Many of them claim to be freeing minds, but in reality, they’re just recruiting people into a different kind of ideological purity test.
The message is clear: You’re allowed to be skeptical, but only in the “approved” ways.
That’s not intellectual freedom. That’s just another cult.
Where Do We Go From Here?
We need real conversations about manipulation and misinformation—whether it comes from MLMs, Big Food, Big Pharma, or influencer dietitians who profit from pushing corporate-backed narratives. It means we need to question everything—without replacing one unquestionable authority with another. And we need to be willing to hold all forms of power accountable, not just the ones that fit neatly into our existing beliefs.
Because if we’re not careful, we’ll escape one high-control group only to fall right into another.
Over the past year, we’ve explored a web of interconnected topics—religious extremism, theology, the role of social media in radicalization, and most recently, body image and the impact of fitspiration.
These discussions aren’t isolated; they all trace back to a common thread—how external influences shape our beliefs, behaviors, and sense of identity. Today, we’re diving deeper into that connection, looking at how beauty standards, social media, and the normalization of self-objectification are part of a larger cultural shift.
The Evolution of Body Image: From Calorie Counting to the Cult of Fitness
Our cultural obsession with body modification isn’t new—it’s just evolved.
In The Body Project, historian Joan Jacobs Brumberg explores the history of American girls and how today women have more freedom and choice than ever before, but many of us begin a pattern of negative self-image, beauty obsession and dieting as early as five or six. Brumberg states:
“All throughout history, adolescent self-consciousness is quite persistent, but it’s level is raised or lowered, like the water level in a pool, by the cultural and social setting.”
For instance, in the late 19th century, girls might have been particularly conscious of their hands and feet due to the fashion and modesty standards of the time, as well as the emphasis on delicate and proper presentation. Additionally, the ideal feminine silhouette of the time, with tightly laced corsets and voluminous skirts, might have made girls more conscious of their waists and overall body shape.
So, while in modern day times, we may cringe at the confinements of what the Victorian society and wearing the corset did to women, but I’d like to argue that in 2025 body angst is driven by much more sinister forces. Today, commercial interests utilize marketing strategies that result in enormous amounts of profit for the manufactures of cosmetic, surgery, hair products and of course diet foods.
The reality that American girls now center their lives around their bodies is neither coincidental nor trivial: it reflects historical shifts that are just now being comprehended.
15th November 1926: Film star, Mae Murray (1889 – 1965) making herself up in a mirror in the lid of her make-up box.
Brumberg examines how the modern fixation on weight began in the early 20th century. Historically, the surge of explicit “girl talk” about body and sexuality is a relatively recent American phenomenon. As the language surrounding sex and the body has evolved, so too have the body projects of different generations of American girls. By the 1920s, girls began writing about their efforts to develop sexual allure through clothing and cosmetics, and for the first time, they experimented with “slimming”—a new body project tied to the scientific discovery of the calorie. The dieters and sexual players of the 1920s were generally girls in middle to late adolescence, finishing high school or heading off to college and jobs in the business world—unlike today, where such concerns often affect younger children and teenagers.
By the 1970s and 1980s, body control became about more than just being thin; it evolved into sculpting the ideal physique. This shift gave rise to what we now recognize as the cult of fitness—a movement that reframed body control as discipline and self-mastery. The rise of bodybuilding, aerobics, and the emerging diet industry all played a role in selling the idea that, with enough effort, anyone could build their “dream body.”
The Role of Genetics in Muscle Growth: What Fitness Culture Gets Wrong
But science tells a different story. While training and nutrition matter, genetics play a massive role in muscle development, strength, and even fat distribution. A study published in Communications Biology (2020) found that an individual’s ability to build muscle and strength is 50-80% genetic(Pei et al., 2020).
This means that two people following the exact same training program and nutrition plan will not achieve the same results—because their genetic blueprint largely determines their potential for muscle growth, recovery speed, tendon strength, and even motivation to train.
Yet, fitness culture—including myself as a personal trainer for nearly 20 years—rarely acknowledges this, pushing the narrative that extreme discipline alone is the key to achieving a certain look. This myth is not only misleading but also damaging, leading many people to believe that if they just worked harder, ate “cleaner,” or followed the right influencer’s workout, they could look like a fitness model.
How Genetics Impact Strength and Muscle Development
Muscle Fiber Composition: The Fast-Twitch vs. Slow-Twitch Factor
People with a higher percentage of fast-twitch muscle fibers (Type II) have a genetic advantage in strength and hypertrophy (muscle growth). These fibers respond better to resistance training and grow larger than slow-twitch (Type I) fibers, which are more endurance-focused.
Some individuals are naturally fast-twitch dominant, making it easier for them to build muscle. Others are slow-twitch dominant, meaning they may struggle with size gains but excel in endurance sports like long-distance running (Timmons et al., 2010).
Myostatin: The Genetic “Muscle Growth Brake”
Myostatin is a protein that regulates muscle growth by preventing muscles from getting too large.
People with lower levels of myostatin (due to genetic mutations) have an easier time building muscle naturally. Some bodybuilders and elite athletes are born with myostatin deficiencies, giving them an unfair advantage (Lee & McPherron, 2001).
Testosterone and Hormonal Variability
Testosterone is a major driver of muscle protein synthesis, and its levels vary wildly among individuals.
Some people naturally produce more free testosterone (the biologically active form), which enhances muscle recovery, strength, and hypertrophy.
Women generally have 10-20 times lower testosterone levels than men, making significant muscle gains much harder without pharmacological assistance (i.e., steroids)(Kraemer et al., 1998).
Bone Structure and Muscle Insertions: The Aesthetic Factor
Ever wonder why some people seem to have a “naturally sculpted” look even before they start training?
Bone structure (such as clavicle length, rib cage width, and hip-to-waist ratio) dictates how muscle mass is distributed.
Muscle insertion points vary genetically, meaning some people have longer muscle bellies, which create fuller-looking muscles, while others have shorter insertions, making certain muscles appear smaller or less defined no matter how much they train (Abe et al., 2016).
The Dangerous Myth of “Hard Work = Guaranteed Results”
Fitness influencers, personal trainers, and the entire “no excuses” culture have sold the idea that discipline alone determines success. And yes—training consistency and proper nutrition absolutely matter. But they will never override genetic limitations.
This myth leads to:
Unrealistic Expectations: People blame themselves when they don’t achieve Instagram-worthy physiques, despite training and eating “perfectly.”
Overtraining & Injury: Chasing unrealistic body standards leads many to overtrain, ignore recovery, and develop chronic injuries.
Disordered Eating & Supplement Abuse: Some resort to extreme dieting, excessive protein intake, or even performance-enhancing drugs to push past genetic limits.
The Industry’s Selective Silence on Genetics
Why does fitness culture ignore genetics? Simple: it doesn’t sell. If people accepted that their muscle-building potential was largely predetermined, the billion-dollar fitness industry wouldn’t be able to push:
Expensive training programs promising “X body in X weeks.”
Supplement stacks claiming to “maximize muscle growth.”
The illusion that buying a program from a shredded influencer will make you look like them.
Ironically, many of the biggest names in fitness—especially those with extreme physiques—are genetically gifted (and often enhanced by PEDs). Yet, they claim their results come solely from “hard work and dedication,” keeping their followers trapped in a cycle of unrealistic expectations and self-blame.
After nearly 20 years as a personal trainer, I wish I had been more honest about genetics with my clients. Fitness is absolutely a combination of training, nutrition, recovery, and mindset—but genetics are the foundation that determines what’s possible.
Let’s stop pretending everyone can achieve the same results through sheer willpower. Fitness should be about maximizing your individual potential—not chasing an impossible ideal. Focusing on body neutral fitness and strength training gave me tangible, measurable improvements, but it also made me realize how much misinformation circulates in mainstream fitness spaces, particularly in the fitspiration content flooding social media.
Fitspiration: The Reinvention of Beauty Standards
A 2023 study in Computers in Human Behavior compared the effects of fit ideal vs. non-fit ideal body types in fitspiration imagery. The findings? Exposure to fitspiration content significantly increases body dissatisfaction, especially in women who already struggle with self-image. This isn’t surprising—social media’s curated highlight reels create a distorted sense of what’s achievable. And just like 90s diet culture failed to acknowledge genetic differences in weight, today’s fitness culture largely ignores the reality that strength and muscle growth are heavily influenced by genetics.
But the impact of fitspiration goes beyond body image. The same mechanisms that fuel fitness obsession—comparison, idealization, and self-objectification—are also at play in the broader cultural shift toward hypersexualization.
Fitspiration and Self-Objectification: The Internalized Gaze
Self-objectification occurs when a person sees themselves through the eyes of others, measuring their worth by how they look rather than who they are. And nowhere is this dynamic more evident than in fitspiration culture.
John Berger describes this process perfectly in Ways of Seeing:
“A woman must continually watch herself. She is almost continually accompanied by her own image of herself… From earliest childhood she has been taught and persuaded to survey herself continually. And so she comes to consider the surveyor and the surveyed within her as the two constituent yet always distinct elements of her identity as a woman.”
Fitspiration content encourages this exact split identity—one part of a woman is the observer, constantly assessing whether she looks toned, lean, or strong enough. The other part is the observed, existing only as a reflection of an idealized body type. It’s no longer just about fitness; it’s about performing fitness for an audience.
And the consequences are severe:
Chronic body surveillance leads to increased anxiety, depression, and disordered eating (Fredrickson & Roberts, 1997).
Instead of focusing on how movement feels, women focus on how their bodies appear while exercising.
The line between fitness and sexualization blurs, reinforcing the idea that a woman’s body is only valuable when it is desirable to others.
In this way, fitspiration isn’t just a rebranded version of diet culture—it’s also a pipeline to broader cultural hypersexualization, where the body is constantly on display, measured, and objectified. And this feeds directly into an even deeper issue: the normalization of pornography and the sex industry, where women’s bodies are not just idealized but commodified.
By promoting self-objectification as empowerment, fitspiration culture primes women to see themselves as both the product and the consumer, caught in an endless cycle of external validation. And the most insidious part? It’s framed as self-improvement—when in reality, it’s just another system designed to keep women watching themselves instead of living fully.
The Connection Between Fitspiration, Porn Culture, and Self-Objectification
The way women are impacted by pornography—and by extension, the sex industry—is something far too many people overlook. The statistics are staggering:
The top three porn sites receive a combined 134,491 visits per minute.
Most pornographic videos contain some form of aggression or violence, particularly toward women. A 2020 meta-analysis found that 88% of pornographic scenes contain physical aggression (slapping, choking, hair-pulling) and 49% contain verbal aggression, with women overwhelmingly being the targets (Bridges et al., 2010).
Most young people are exposed to pornography between the ages of 11 and 13, with some studies reporting an even earlier age for boys (Wright et al., 2021).
How This Connects to Fitspiration and Porn Culture
At first glance, fitspiration (or “fitspo”) might seem like it has nothing to do with pornography or the sex industry. After all, isn’t fitness about health and strength? But when we look closer, the connections become clear.
Both fitspiration and porn culture promote self-objectification. Fitspiration culture tells women that their worth is tied to their body’s appearance—specifically, whether they have a lean, sculpted, and sexually desirable physique. This reinforces self-objectification, where women begin viewing their bodies primarily as objects to be judged rather than lived-in, experienced, and valued beyond aesthetics.
Remember our study in Computers in Human Behavior (2023) found that exposure to fitspiration imagery leads to increased body dissatisfaction and self-objectification, particularly among women who already struggle with body image….Similarly, pornography fuels external validation as a primary measure of self-worth.
Women in both fitspo and porn culture are expected to conform to an idealized version of femininity that is both hypersexualized and carefully curated for male consumption.
Both industries capitalize on the illusion of empowerment. One of the biggest arguments in favor of fitspiration and porn is that they “empower” women. But empowerment, in its truest sense, involves autonomy, agency, and self-determination—not just adhering to societal beauty standards under the guise of “strength” or “choice.”
Fitspiration content often presents extreme dieting, excessive exercise, and body sculpting as forms of self-discipline and self-improvement, even when they veer into disordered behaviors.
The porn industry promotes the idea that sex work is a path to empowerment, despite overwhelming evidence of the harm it causes to those involved. Research on women in the porn industry has found high rates of PTSD, substance abuse, and coercion (Farley et al., 2003).
The same narrative that tells women they must be “empowered” by fitspiration also tells them they must be “empowered” by commodifying their bodies through sex work. The reality is that both industries profit from women internalizing external standards of worth rather than defining it for themselves.
The rise of OnlyFans and the blending of fitness and sex work. Social media has blurred the lines between fitness influencers and the sex industry in a way that previous generations didn’t experience. Platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and OnlyFans have created a new category of influencers who monetize their appearance—whether through fitness content, sexually suggestive photos, or outright pornography.
Some fitness influencers now have OnlyFans accounts, where they claim to be selling fitness content but also offer sexually explicit material.
The normalization of “soft porn” in fitness spaces (suggestive poses, hypersexualized workout attire) conditions women to see their fitness journey as something that must be publicly displayed and validated by others.
Many young women have turned to selling “spicy content” on OnlyFans as a form of income, believing it to be harmless self-expression—only to later experience the psychological and social fallout.
This isn’t just theoretical. A growing body of research shows that women who engage in sexualized self-presentation online report higher levels of self-objectification, body dissatisfaction, and lower self-esteem(Boursier et al., 2020).
The Psychological Toll: What Happens When Women Internalize These Messages?
Self-objectification doesn’t just impact body image—it affects mental health, cognitive performance, and even physical performance. Studies have found that women who are primed to focus on their appearance:
Perform worse on cognitive tasks (Fredrickson et al., 1998).
Experience greater body shame and anxiety (Moradi & Huang, 2008).
Are less likely to engage in activities that prioritize function over appearance (Roberts & Gettman, 2004).
And this has real-world consequences. Women who internalize self-objectification are more likely to experience:
Higher rates of depression and anxiety
Greater susceptibility to eating disorders
Lower confidence in their physical abilities
Reframing the Narrative: What’s the Alternative?
Recognizing these patterns is the first step in breaking free from them. If fitspiration, porn culture, and social media all push the message that women must shape themselves into externally validated objects, then the antidote is reclaiming agency over our bodies—not as things to be looked at, but as tools for living, experiencing, and creating.
Strength training should be about what your body can do, not how it looks.
Health and fitness should prioritize function over pain.
Challenge Beauty Norms & External Validation. Who benefits from women being consumed by their appearance? The more we recognize these influences, the easier it is to resist them.
Women should be encouraged to pursue movement, sport, and physical strength without the added layer of performative sexuality.
Joan Jacobs Brumberg’s The Body Project reinforced for me how unprepared young women have been for the level of sexualization and exploitation in our culture—something that has only worsened with social media. The way sex work is framed as “empowerment” in some circles ignores the long-term harm it inflicts, and I’ve seen that firsthand.
I can’t wait to discuss this more with my friend Sloane Wilson, a survivor advocate with Exodus Cry, on my podcast later this season. Her insights into the realities of the sex industry and the dangers of normalizing self-objectification are incredibly important for this conversation.
If you’ve ever been confused by conflicting diet headlines, you’re not alone! Nutrition research aims to help us understand how different foods impact our health, but the process isn’t always straightforward. From small sample sizes to biases and misinterpreted data, the field is full of challenges that can lead to mixed messages. Today, we’re breaking down the complex world of nutrition research, unpacking what it really tells us, what it doesn’t, and how we can read between the lines to make sense of it all.
This is a complex topic, especially when it comes to understanding terms like absolute and relative risk, which can often be confusing without a visual, so be sure to scroll along as you listen!
Let’s dive in!
I recently sat down with Jacqui, a passionate advocate for empowering women to understand and support their bodies at every life stage. Our conversation was deeply insightful, particularly as Jacqui highlighted the importance of critically assessing nutrition research, an area she’s worked in for years. From her early love for nutrition labels to her background in bio-nutritional statistics and clinical trials, Jacqui’s journey has led her to focus on prenatal research and nutrition that fosters development.
Throughout our interview, Jacqui stressed the need for a more nuanced approach when it comes to nutrition science, pointing out how certain research methodologies and common misinterpretations can lead us astray.
1. The Pitfalls of Food Frequency Questionnaires (FFQs)
One of Jacqui’s key points was the reliability—or lack thereof—of Food Frequency Questionnaires (FFQs), a tool frequently used to assess dietary habits. FFQs often rely on participants’ memory, which can be imprecise and subjective.
Jacqui shared her firsthand experience collecting FFQ data and witnessing how confused participants often were when asked to recall what they ate. This variability in data collection can significantly impact the accuracy of nutritional studies, making it difficult to draw reliable conclusions about diet and health.
FFQs, though commonly used in research, often do not capture the full complexity of individual diets. This leads to inaccuracies in studies that can misguide dietary guidelines and public health advice. Jacqui emphasized that this is a critical issue because it directly affects how we understand nutrition and the effectiveness of dietary recommendations.
2. Understanding Relative Risk vs. Absolute Risk in Nutrition Headlines
Nutrition studies often grab attention with sensational headlines, particularly when they report relative risks. Jacqui explained how a “33% increase in risk” can sound alarming, but in many cases, it doesn’t reflect the real picture. The key issue here is the difference between relative risk and absolute risk.
Relative risk refers to the increased risk of a particular outcome in one group compared to another. While this sounds important, it can be misleading without context. For example, a small increase in relative risk might not translate to a significant increase in your actual chance of experiencing that outcome.
Absolute risk, on the other hand, tells us the actual probability of an event happening.
Jacqui stressed the importance of recognizing this distinction when reading nutrition headlines.
A 33% increase in relative risk might sound alarming, but when we examine the absolute risk, the actual impact could be much less significant. Understanding this distinction helps consumers interpret research with greater accuracy, preventing them from falling for misleading headlines.
3. The Problem with ‘Statistically Significant’ Results
The term “statistically significant” often sounds impressive, but Jacqui warned that it’s not always a reliable indicator of a meaningful finding. In nutritional research, a statistically significant result means that the data supports a specific conclusion beyond what could be expected by chance. However, Jacqui compared this to winning a small lottery: just because the result is statistically significant doesn’t necessarily mean it’s practically important.
In many cases, results that are statistically significant may not have a meaningful or clinically significant impact on real-world outcomes. For example, a study might show a statistically significant difference in health markers between two groups, but the actual difference might be so small that it doesn’t matter in terms of improving health.
When encountering results labeled as statistically significant, Jacqui advised readers to take a step back and ask: Is this result meaningful in the real world, or is it just a statistical fluke?
4. Why Nutritional Research Seems Contradictory
Another fascinating part of our conversation focused on the reasons why nutritional research can often feel contradictory. Jacqui pointed out that factors like small sample sizes, observational study designs, and various biases can skew the outcomes of studies. These variables contribute to conflicting opinions and conclusions in the field of nutrition.
Moreover, biases—whether financial or ideological—can shape the results of studies and the way findings are interpreted. For instance, when a study is funded by a food company, the results might be more favorable toward the products of that company, consciously or unconsciously.
Jacqui encouraged listeners to develop a critical eye when reading nutrition studies. Instead of accepting conclusions at face value, she suggested asking questions like: What’s the sample size? Who funded the study? What biases could influence the results?
5. How to Approach Nutrition Research as an Informed Consumer
So, how should we navigate the sea of nutrition research to make informed decisions about our food? Jacqui’s advice is simple yet powerful: approach nutrition research with a critical mindset.
Here’s how to do it:
Look beyond the headlines: Understand the difference between relative and absolute risk and question whether the findings are clinically significant.
Question study design: Be wary of studies with small sample sizes or those that rely on self-reported data, like FFQs. Also, consider the biases that may influence results.
Seek balanced perspectives: Look for research that examines multiple viewpoints and is not influenced by financial or ideological pressures.
Jacqui’s passion for empowering women through nutrition, particularly prenatal research, shines through in her work. By shedding light on the limitations and complexities of nutrition research, she offers us a much-needed roadmap to make informed decisions about our health. Whether you’re navigating the confusion of wellness trends or simply trying to understand what’s truly healthy, Jacqui’s insights can help us all approach nutrition with more clarity and skepticism.
Want more insights from Jacqui? Follow her on Instagram, where she shares practical advice and challenges the latest trends in wellness.
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