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.
Welcome to Taste of Truth Tuesdays—the podcast where we dive into hard questions, challenge the status quo, and explore the wild, messy journey of life. I’m your host, Megan Leigh, and wow… here we are. The finale. 🎭
It’s hard to believe we’ve reached this point, but just like any great adventure, sometimes you’ve gotta know when to step back, take a breath, and let the journey settle. But before I hang up the mic, we’re going out with a bang—talking about something that’s taken over our minds, our lives, and—let’s be real—our souls: social media.
Now, don’t roll your eyes just yet. I know, I know—you’re probably thinking, “Oh, great. Another episode on social media. Can’t wait for more doom and gloom.” But stick with me. We’re not just talking about your Instagram algorithm or the latest TikTok trend. We’re diving deep into the brain science behind our scrolling obsession, the way social media messes with our mental health, and—hold on to your hats—the role it plays in shaping our very identities.
So, buckle up, because this is the episode where we reclaim our time, our attention, and—if we’re lucky—our sanity.
It’s time to get real. Let’s unravel the truth about how social media is rewiring our brains… and what we can do about it.
Social media: It started as a fun way to connect, share cat memes, and stalk your high school crush’s wedding photos. Ah, the good old days, right? Over the years, it has morphed into something far more insidious—a time sink, an anxiety amplifier, and, for many, an addiction.
We’ve all felt it: that pull to check our phones every five minutes, the sudden rush when our post gets shared, the quiet frustration when we can’t get the perfect shot for the ‘gram. But these reactions aren’t accidents. They’re carefully crafted designs by tech giants who know exactly how to keep us coming back for more. Let’s begin by diving deep into the science behind the scroll…..
The Science Behind the Scroll
The tech companies behind Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook have cracked the code on how to get us hooked—and it’s all about the brain’s reward system.
Every like, comment, or share triggers a dopamine release. That’s the same brain chemical activated when we eat chocolate, win a prize, or, frankly, get any form of instant gratification. Dopamine feels good, and your brain remembers that. Over time, your brain starts to associate social media with that feeling of pleasure, and bam—you’re hooked. This is the kind of addiction we’re talking about.
According to recent studies, social media addiction is particularly prevalent among younger demographics. Approximately 40% of users aged 18 to 22 report being addicted to social media. This trend continues into the age group of 23 to 38, where 15% admit to addiction.
But the consequences go deeper than wasted time. This constant stimulation has been linked to:
Decreased attention spans: You know that feeling when reading a full page of a book feels like climbing Mount Everest? That’s your brain, rewired by quick-hit content.
Cognitive overload: The endless stream of content leaves little room for deep thinking or creative problem-solving.
“Brain rot”: This TikTok trend perfectly sums up the mental fatigue, fog, and disconnection many of us feel after hours online.
And this isn’t just some accidental byproduct. Jonathan Haidt, in his book The Righteous Mind, highlights the complexity of our moral and psychological wiring. He argues that human brains aren’t just wired for truth or objective reasoning. We are, at our core, designed to belong—to feel like part of the group. The “we’re right, they’re wrong” mentality? It’s not just a political tactic. It’s part of our psychology. Our social groups, whether online or in person, reinforce this mindset by creating echo chambers of validation and us-versus-them narratives.
Haidt’s quote on this rings true here:
“Our brains are more like lawyers arguing a case than scientists seeking truth.”
The constant validation we get from social media platforms taps into this dynamic—we’re more interested in being right and fitting in than in evaluating the facts or considering alternative perspectives. This is why social media can be so dangerous for our mental health. It’s not just about being addicted to the likes; it’s about how we’re rewiring our brains to crave validation over truth and connection.
Unveiling the Influence: Social Media’s Role in Recruitment and Brainwashing
Throughout Season 2, we’ve explored social media’s pervasive impact. From its role in shaping our perceptions to its influence on our behaviors, the digital realm’s grip is undeniable.
Social media wields considerable influence in radicalizing individuals and indoctrinating them into high-control religions, MLM schemes, and even ideological movements. The speed and reach of online platforms have amplified some of the most extreme, fringe ideas—turning them into mainstream conversations. A prime example of this is the social contagion of trans ideology, where a once niche and academic discussion about gender dysphoria has rapidly become a cultural movement that shapes public perception and (unfortunately) policy.
As platforms have expanded, the lines between identity, ideology, and community have blurred. Individuals seeking validation or belonging often find themselves drawn into conversations that are not just about personal identity, but about deeply entrenched political narratives. This creates fertile ground for ideological recruitment, where the promise of solidarity and empowerment can quickly morph into a dogmatic worldview.
But it’s not just about identity politics or radical gender ideologies. Social media also plays a pivotal role in radicalizing racial narratives. What were once niche, academic discussions about systemic racism, implicit bias, and social justice have now been thrust into the mainstream. These conversations, once confined to university lecture halls and activist circles, are amplified in real-time, shaping cultural narratives. This has created a new, all-encompassing cultural force.
The rise of radicalized racial narratives and the widespread adoption of a “prejudice plus power” definition of racism online has altered how these conversations unfold. The Internet lowers the cost of group action, making it easier for movements to organize, but also more vulnerable to collapse under scrutiny. While these conversations can be valuable, the speed at which they spread leaves little room for nuance, making the discourse more polarized and susceptible to manipulation.
The same strategies used by high-control groups, MLMs, and radical ideologies are now being leveraged in these public online spaces. Emotional appeals, the promise of community, and a collective sense of identity are powerful tools, but they also trap individuals in narrow, divisive worldviews. The social contagion effect of these movements, whether it’s trans ideology or the racial justice discourse, can lead to rapid shifts in beliefs that feel almost impossible to resist, especially when everyone around you is also influenced by these same narratives.
How Social Media Impacts Mental Health
It’s no secret that social media takes a toll on mental health. But let’s get specific.
A 2020 study in Cyberpsychology, Behavior, and Social Networking found that excessive use is directly correlated with higher levels of anxiety and depression.
A 2018 British study revealed that social media disrupts sleep patterns, which are crucial for mental well-being.
And those carefully curated Instagram feeds? They lead to a nasty habit of social comparison, where we measure our real lives against someone else’s highlight reel.
The result? A vicious cycle of feeling “less than.” Even when we know that influencer’s perfect morning routine is staged, it’s hard not to feel like we’re falling short.
As a military spouse, I’ve felt this firsthand. In the loneliest seasons—new city, no community, husband busy working, social media felt like a lifeline. I craved connection, and Instagram was always there. But what I found wasn’t real friendship. It was hollow validation—likes, emoji reactions, and disappearing DMs. A digital sugar rush with zero sustenance.
Eventually, I had to get brutally honest with myself: social media had become my coping mechanism. I wasn’t reaching out to real people—I was scrolling through their highlight reels, mistaking proximity for intimacy.
Here’s the friendship test I use now: Did you know about their vacation before they posted the beach picture? If not, are you actually close?
Somehow, we’re more “connected” than ever, yet we’ve never felt so alone. That’s the connection conundrum.
As humans, we’re wired for belonging. We want to be seen, heard, loved. But seeing people online—and being seen by them—isn’t the same. It doesn’t satisfy the soul. It’s like eating fast food when what we really need is a home-cooked meal. We’re being fed, but we’re not getting nourished.
And that’s the scary part. People are starting to wonder what’s wrong with them. Why do I feel so empty? Why do I still feel lonely after a scroll session? But it’s not you—it’s the system. Social media has rewired our sense of connection. We think checking someone’s profile counts as keeping in touch.
But here’s the truth: it’s not enough. It was never meant to be.
The Lies Social Media Tells Us (And What Happens When We Stop Believing Them)
Inspired by Carly Burr’s “The Social Media Shift”
Social media is built on illusions—on selling us a version of reality that makes us feel just dependent enough to keep coming back. But Carly Burr cracks that illusion wide open in The Social Media Shift, revealing the deeper psychological and social conditioning behind our screen habits.
Let’s bust a few of the biggest myths that keep us stuck:
Lie #1: “I’ll lose connection.”
Platforms want you to believe they’re the glue holding your social life together—but that’s marketing, not truth. As Burr points out, real connection isn’t algorithmically filtered. It’s not passive. It’s intentional. It’s messy. It shows up in the awkward pauses of a phone call, the unsaid comfort of sitting beside someone, or a handwritten birthday card instead of a story reply.
The dopamine hit of a like isn’t the same as being seen.
Lie #2: “I’ll lose friends.”
Okay, but let’s talk about the quality of those friendships.
Social media keeps us tethered to past versions of ourselves—people we haven’t seen in a decade, relationships that faded for a reason, or mutuals we don’t even talk to. Burr argues that the constant stream of “updates” creates a false sense of closeness, making us feel socially exhausted while still emotionally empty.
Letting go of these weak ties isn’t loss. It’s liberation. You create space for depth over breadth—real conversations, real community.
Lie #3: “I’ll miss out.”
Ah yes, FOMO—the bread and butter of the scroll. But Carly flips this on its head with the concept of voluntary disconnection—not as retreat, but as rebellion. When you step away from the curated highlight reels, you stop comparing your real life to someone else’s filtered one.
This is the beginning of JOMO—the Joy of Missing Out.
Imagine the freedom of opting out of the noise so you can tune into your creativity, your actual priorities, and the people in the room with you. Spoiler alert: You’re not missing out—you’re waking up.
If this is what social media does to fully developed adults—those of us with matured brains, responsibilities, and years of analog life under our belts—then what happens when the same platforms are handed to kids?
Enter: Generation Alpha. A generation being raised on screens, where digital stimulation replaces real-world experience, and curated identities form before self-awareness even sets in.
Let’s talk about the kids. Because this isn’t just a personal problem anymore—it’s a cultural crisis.
Generation Alpha & the Screen Trap: Childhood Rewired
Generation Alpha—kids born between 2010 and 2025—aren’t just growing up with technology. They’re growing up inside it.
Unlike Millennials or even Gen Z, who eased into the digital world, Gen Alpha was handed iPads before they could speak in full sentences. Their lullabies come from YouTube. Their friendships are filtered through emojis and DMs. The result? Alarming trends in social development: reduced face-to-face interaction, emotional dysregulation, increased narcissism, and shrinking independence.
Parents, this is a wake-up call. You don’t need another expert to tell you what you already feel in your gut: handing a toddler a tablet to keep them quiet isn’t harmless. Kids need eye contact, boredom, dirt under their nails—not dopamine loops and digital pacifiers. For thousands of years, parents raised kids without screens. This is not impossible.
In The Anxious Generation, psychologist Jonathan Haidt breaks it down: the brain’s reward system (aka dopamine central) develops early, but the self-control center—the prefrontal cortex—doesn’t fully mature until about age 25. So, when kids are handed infinite-scroll devices packed with peer comparison, algorithmic manipulation, and curated realities, it’s like giving a toddler the keys to a sports car and pointing them toward a cliff.
Haidt calls screens “experience blockers.” Instead of learning through play, climbing trees, exploring neighborhoods, and negotiating playground politics, today’s kids are navigating TikTok trends and selfie angles. We’ve traded real-world resilience for digital performance.
“When you remove thousands of hours of unsupervised play, real-life social interaction, and physical exploration—and replace it with filtered selfies, infinite scroll, and a feedback loop of online validation—you don’t just rewire childhood. You rewire the brain.” — Jonathan Haidt, The Anxious Generation
And that’s exactly what we’re seeing: a generation more anxious, more depressed, and more disconnected than ever before.
This isn’t about shaming parents—it’s about reclaiming childhood. Because what’s at stake isn’t just screen time. It’s the architecture of the next generation’s minds.
From Screen Time to Screen Stardom: The Rise of Kid Influencers
But it’s not just about passive consumption anymore. Increasingly, kids aren’t just watching content—they are the content.
Welcome to the unsettling world of kid influencers. Platforms like YouTube and Instagram have turned childhood into a brand opportunity, with children as young as five raking in sponsorship deals, building fan bases, and performing for millions.
And behind the ring lights and carefully edited vlogs? A growing wave of exploitation.
A recent Netflix documentary pulls back the curtain on this world, spotlighting the case of Piper Rockelle—a child YouTuber whose life has been shaped by online fame. What the documentary uncovers is deeply troubling: blurred boundaries, lost innocence, and kids caught in a perpetual performance loop for clicks, clout, and cash.
These children aren’t just growing up on camera—they’re growing up for the camera.
The pressure to maintain a digital persona, please followers, and produce viral content creates a toxic cocktail of emotional distress and identity confusion. They’re rewarded not for who they are, but for how well they perform. And the cost? A real, grounded childhood, full of uncurated, unsponsored experiences.
We’ve moved from screens blocking real-world development to screens broadcasting their absence.
What started as a parenting shortcut has morphed into a monetization machine—and the kids are paying the price.
How to Reclaim Your Life from Social Media
Ready to take your brain back? Here’s how to kick the scroll addiction and get your attention span (and your life) back on track—without moving to a cabin in the woods.
What Your Morning Scroll Is Doing to Your Brain
When we first wake up, our brain is gently humming in alpha and theta waves—those dreamy, creative states where intuition, introspection, and problem-solving flourish. Think: peaceful forest glade at sunrise.
But the moment your thumb reaches for your phone? Bam—dopamine starts firing, cortisol spikes, and your brain is jolted into high-beta wave activity. Translation? You’ve just swapped a meditative meadow for the chaos of a Vegas casino floor—bright lights, ringing bells, constant stimulation.
And we wonder why we feel frazzled before we’ve even had coffee.
1. Set Boundaries with Your Devices
• Start and end your day screen-free. The first and last hour of your day should belong to you, not your feed. Use that time for reading, stretching, journaling, or making actual eye contact with a human or a pet.
• Silence the dopamine drip. Turn off notifications for non-essential apps. That buzz you feel when you get a like? It’s manufactured.
• App timer yourself. Even five-minute limits can break the spell.
2. Give Your Brain (and Eyes) a Break
• Try the 20-20-20 Rule: Every 20 minutes, look at something 20 feet away for 20 seconds. This not only reduces eye strain but helps reset your nervous system and disrupt the scroll trance.
3. Declutter Your Digital Space
Unfollow with intention. If an account makes you feel less-than, anxious, or enraged, you don’t owe it your attention.
Hide the candy. Move social apps off your home screen—or delete them entirely. Make mindless checking inconvenient.
4. Prioritize Analog Experiences
Reconnect with real-life hobbies. Gardening, painting, cooking, journaling—anything that grounds you in the physical world.
Create with your hands. We’re wired for tactile engagement. Knitting does more for your nervous system than 1,000 likes ever will.
Start small. Spend just 30 minutes this week doing something screen-free that brings you joy. Bonus points if it’s outside.
5. Use Technology Intentionally
Before you open an app, ask yourself:
“Is this productive or passive?”
Reading an article that educates you? Great.
Doom-scrolling through drama accounts?? Not so much.
Pause. Choose. Proceed.
As we navigate social media, it’s crucial to develop critical thinking skills that help us evaluate the flood of information we encounter. This isn’t about censorship, but about cultivating the ability to separate fact from fiction, identify bias, and question what’s being presented to us. The power of algorithms and viral content means we are often exposed to extreme or misleading viewpoints. By sharpening our ability to critically analyze media, we can better protect ourselves from manipulation while still engaging with important issues in a thoughtful way.
And that’s a wrap-not just on Season 3, but maybe, just maybe, on Taste of Truth Tuesdays entirely.
I started this podcast to explore the hard questions, challenge the dominant narratives, and create space for curiosity and critical thinking. And I’ve loved every gritty, gut-honest, mind-expanding moment with you. But here’s the truth I can’t ignore: the very platforms that help us spread ideas and connect also fracture our attention, distort our sense of reality, and leave us more addicted than aligned.
So, if this is the end, it’s not because I’m out of things to say—but because I want to live what I preach. I want to reclaim my time. I want to make art, grow food, write slowly, and have real conversations without an algorithm eavesdropping.
If you’ve walked with me through this journey—thank you. From the bottom of my heart. You’ve made this sacred.
And if this is goodbye, it’s also an invitation. To stay curious. To remain skeptical. To turn down the noise and tune into your own voice.
This isn’t the end of my voice, but it might be the beginning of a different kind of truth-telling—one that doesn’t require a platform to feel real.
So, for one last time…
Maintain your curiosity,
Embrace skepticism,
And keep tuning in-
Even if it’s just to your own soul.
Thanks for reading Taste of Truth! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
Sources:
1. Hagar, Ashley, and Hisham Bensaadat. “‘iPad Kids’ Are Shaping the Future of Education.” Seattle Spectator.
4. Andreassen, Cecilie Schou, et al. “The Relationship Between Addictive Use of Social Media, Narcissism, and Self-Esteem: Findings from a Large National Survey.” Addictive Behaviors, Volume 64, 2017, Pages 287–293.
5. Keles, Betul, et al. “A Systematic Review: The Influence of Social Media on Depression, Anxiety and Psychological Distress in Adolescents.” International Journal of Adolescence and Youth, 2020.
Hey friends, and welcome to another Taste Test Thursday—where we’re serving up the scraps, the side dishes, and the stories that didn’t quite make it to the main course over on Taste of Truth Tuesdays. I’m your host, Megan Leigh, and today I’m inviting you into the behind-the-scenes mess and magic of how each episode comes to life.
No Master Plan—Just a Gut Feeling
Honestly? Each season starts as a complete blank slate. Sure, I usually have a few themes I know I’ll circle back to—nutrition, fitness, body image, spirituality—but there’s no rigid map. It’s more like I’m following a scent trail. And yeah, that might sound a little woo, but if you’ve been here for a while, you know I’m not afraid to blend the practical with the mystical.
There’s this intuitive flow to it. I don’t always know where we’re going—but I trust we’ll end up somewhere honest.
Where I Find My Guests
Most of my guests? I stumble across them in the wild—on Substack, Instagram, someone else’s podcast, or even real-life circles. Before I ever hit “invite,” I try to go deep with their work. I read their writing, binge their interviews, scroll their posts, and ask myself:
What do they really stand for?
Does their voice contribute to the kind of dialogue I want to host here?
I take platforming seriously. I know I’m not responsible for a guest’s entire body of work, but I do feel responsible for curating voices that align with the space we’re building together. That doesn’t mean I have to agree with every single word they say—but there needs to be a shared thread of integrity.
That said… sometimes I get it wrong. There’ve been moments when I jumped into an interview too quickly—maybe I skimmed their stuff or got pulled in by one compelling take—and mid-recording I realized: “Oh no. This isn’t a fit.” It’s uncomfortable, but it’s part of the process. And I’m learning from it every time.
Following the Rabbit Trails
The books I recommend? They usually come from the same rabbit holes I fall down—reading essays, following threads across Substacks, or chasing a quote from one podcast to the next. My brain is basically a conspiracy board with red yarn connecting ideas. Tracking how I get from point A to Z? A mystery even to me.
Writing Questions with Curiosity
Developing questions for guests is an evolving art form. I anchor myself in two core questions:
What’s my main intention with this guest?
What’s the one big takeaway I want the listener to walk away with?
Once I’ve roughed out my ideas, I bring in ChatGPT to help shape and sharpen them—tightening the language and helping me spot blind spots. I send the final questions to guests about a week ahead of time so they can feel prepared and grounded when we hit record.
Editing Isn’t Glamorous—But I Love the Creative Bits
For editing, I use an AI tool that balances audio levels and trims awkward pauses. Nothing fancy. But the parts I love? Coming up with episode titles, designing the cover art, and writing these blog posts.
Sometimes the blog expands on an episode’s theme. Other times, it’s short and sweet. Either way—if you’ve got a preference, I’d love to know. Seriously. I want this to feel like a conversation, not a monologue.
How Themes Find Me (Not the Other Way Around)
One of the most fascinating things about this whole creative process? Every season finds its own theme—even though I never plan it that way.
In Season Two, the theme that emerged was control—and the dopamine hit we chase in high-control environments, whether that’s strict diets or rigid religious rules.
In Season Three, the big thread was the cost of certainty—how much we sacrifice when we demand black-and-white answers in a beautifully grey world.
I don’t map this stuff out in advance. It just… happens. And honestly? That’s been one of the most surprising and affirming parts of hosting this podcast. Watching these ideas thread themselves together like they’ve been waiting for a home.
Your Turn
So that’s the scoop—how the sausage gets made, or maybe how the plates get stacked before the main course hits the table.
If you’ve got questions about the process—or ideas for what you’d love to hear on a future Taste Test Thursday—don’t be shy. Hit reply, send a DM, or drop a comment. I’m always listening.
Until next time— Maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in. 🎙️🔒
The Fatal Flaws of Calories In Calories Out and the Metabolism Model That Could Change Everything
Alright, let’s talk about the four most useless words in the history of weight loss advice: ‘Just eat less, move more.’ You’ve heard it, I’ve heard it, and if this phrase actually worked the way people think it does, we wouldn’t have skyrocketing rates of obesity, metabolic dysfunction, and entire industries built around yo-yo dieting. But here’s the kicker—it sounds logical. Simple math, right? Calories in, calories out. Except the human body is not a bank account; it’s a biological orchestra, and the way we process energy is more like a symphony than a spreadsheet.
We’ve already tackled the oversimplified calorie-counting dogma in our Science Dogma episode, and we’ve explored how perception alone—like believing a milkshake is ‘indulgent’—can literally alter our hormonal response. That’s not woo-woo, that’s science. But today, we’re going deeper. Because beyond the CICO model, beyond the calorie obsession, there’s a much bigger, messier, and more fascinating reality about metabolism, obesity, and why diet advice keeps failing people.
And I know what some of you might be thinking—‘But Megan, are you saying calories don’t matter?’ No. I’m saying they don’t tell the whole story. The way we eat, when we eat, why we eat, our hormones, stress levels, metabolic adaptations, even our past dieting history—all of it plays into how our body responds to food.
So as we close out Season 3 of Taste of Truth Tuesday, I want to leave you with something foundational. Not another diet trend. Not another oversimplified soundbite. But a real, nuanced conversation about what actually influences metabolism, weight loss, and why some of the most popular strategies—like keto, intermittent fasting, and calorie counting—work for some people but absolutely wreck others.
And here’s the disclaimer—I’m not an advocate for low-carb dieting in general, especially as someone who’s recovered from disordered eating. But my guest today? He eats low-carb and keto. And here’s what I respect—he’s not dogmatic about it. He understands that the real answer to health and weight loss isn’t found in any one-size-fits-all approach. It’s about bio-individuality.
So grab your coffee, take a deep breath, and get ready to rethink everything you thought you knew about metabolism. Let’s do this.
The calorie, as a unit of measurement, has a fascinating history that ties directly into the calories in, calories out (CICO) debate. While many assume the calorie has always been the standard for measuring food energy, its adoption in nutrition is relatively recent and shaped by shifts in scientific understanding, industry influence, and public health narratives.
The Origin of the Calorie
The concept of the calorie originated in physics, not nutrition. In the early 19th century, Nicolas Clément, a French chemist, introduced the term calorie as a measure of heat energy. By the late 1800s, scientists like Wilbur Olin Atwater adapted this concept to human metabolism, conducting bomb calorimeter experiments to determine how much energy food provided when burned. Atwater’s Physiological Fuel Values established the foundation for modern caloric values assigned to macronutrients (fat = 9 kcal/g, carbohydrates and protein = 4 kcal/g, alcohol = 7 kcal/g).
The Rise of Caloric Nutrition
By the early 20th century, calories became central to dietary guidelines, especially in public health efforts to address malnutrition. During both World Wars, governments used calorie counts to ration food efficiently. However, as food abundance grew, the focus shifted from ensuring sufficient calorie intake to preventing excess, paving the way for weight-focused dietary interventions.
CICO and the Simplification of Weight Loss
The calories in, calories out model became dominant in the mid-20th century, driven by research showing that weight loss or gain depended on energy balance. The First Law of Thermodynamics—energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed—was applied to human metabolism, reinforcing the idea that a calorie surplus leads to weight gain and a deficit to weight loss.
This framework became the foundation of mainstream diet advice, but it often overlooked complexities such as:
Metabolic adaptation (how bodies adjust to calorie deficits)
The thermic effect of food (protein takes more energy to digest than fat or carbs)
Gut microbiome effects on calorie absorption
Psychological and behavioral aspects of eating
Criticism and the Evolution of the Debate
By the late 20th century, challenges to strict CICO thinking emerged. Researchers in endocrinology and metabolism, such as Dr. Robert Lustig and Dr. David Ludwig, highlighted that not all calories affect the body in the same way—insulin regulation, macronutrient composition, and food quality play crucial roles.
Low-carb and ketogenic diet advocates argued that carbohydrate restriction, not just calorie restriction, was key to weight management due to its impact on insulin and fat storage.
I personally think, it’s not just carbs or calories doing this. There are at least 42 factors that impact blood sugar and metabolism. This is something I’ve worked to educate my audience on for years. Carbs are just one piece of the puzzle. Stress, sleep, gut microbiome, meal timing, inflammation, hormonal balance—all of these influence the body’s metabolic “terrain.”
Where Are We Now?
Today, the calorie remains a useful measure, but the conversation has expanded beyond simple energy balance. Researchers acknowledge that while calories matter, factors like food quality, hormonal responses, and individual metabolic differences significantly impact how the body processes energy. The debate now leans toward a more nuanced view.
Now, let’s talk about why this matters.
Today, I’m joined by Adam Kosloff, an author and researcher who isn’t afraid to challenge conventional wisdom—especially when it comes to obesity and metabolism. A Substack post of his, A Righteous Assault on the Absolute Worst Idea in the History of Science, takes a sledgehammer to the dominant ‘calories in, calories out’ model, aka Move More, Eat Less? The Lie That Won’t Die, arguing that our understanding of fat storage is fundamentally broken. Instead, he presents a revolutionary new framework—the Farmer Model—that redefines how we think about metabolism, obesity, and weight loss.
For years, the dominant narrative around weight loss has been depressingly simple: “move more, eat less.” This slogan has been drilled into us by dietitians, doctors, and fitness gurus as if it were an unshakable law of physics. But if it were that simple, why has metabolic disease skyrocketed despite more people tracking their calories and increasing exercise?
Adam challenges the traditional CICO (calories in, calories out) model, not just by saying it’s wrong, but by arguing it is catastrophically misleading. His Farmer Model reframes obesity and metabolic dysfunction as a landscape issue rather than a simple calorie balance equation.
Think of your metabolism like farmland. The most obvious disruptor might be “acid rain”—high-carb, sweet, ultra-processed foods that erode the topsoil, flood the land, and cause metabolic damage (fat storage, inflammation, insulin spikes). But not all disruptions look like a storm.
Sometimes, the changes are more insidious. Maybe those daily lattes weren’t a flood but a subtle shift in the terrain, like over-fertilizing a field. Too much of a good thing, whether dairy proteins or artificial sweeteners, can nudge the metabolic landscape in a way that leads to dysfunction over time.
And here’s the kicker: It’s not just carbs or calories doing this. There are at least 42 factors that impact blood sugar and metabolism. This is something I’ve worked to educate my audience on for years. Carbs are just one piece of the puzzle. Stress, sleep, gut microbiome, meal timing, inflammation, hormonal balance—all of these influence the body’s metabolic “terrain.”
Adam’s latest Substack post, 10 Smackdowns That Lay Waste to CICO, was an absolute banger. The line “Gaze upon these arguments, ye mighty gym bros, and despair…” had me cackling. But beyond the sass, the research was rock solid. In our conversation, we break down some of the most devastating smackdowns against CICO and discuss which ones tend to make the most die-hard calorie counters short-circuit.
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.
Hey everyone, welcome to the very first episode of Taste Test Thursdays! If you’re new here, this is a special bonus series where I’ll be giving you a behind-the-scenes look at the topics I didn’t get a chance to fully explore during Season 3 of Taste of Truth Tuesdays. Think of this as the leftovers—the ideas that were simmering on the back burner but never made it onto the main plate.
But this series isn’t just about what I didn’t cover. It’s about giving you a deeper look into my thought process—how I research, why I choose certain topics, and the unfiltered thoughts I don’t always include in the main episodes. Some weeks will be casual, some will be research-heavy, and some, like today, will be personal.
Because for this first episode, I want to start with a topic I’ve touched on but never fully shared: my own experience with chronic pain and how it shaped not only my fitness journey but my entire approach to health and resilience.
The Story Behind My Chronic Pain & Fitness Journey
Let’s rewind a bit. Growing up, I was always active, but I never saw fitness as something I’d build my life around. That changed when I started dealing with chronic pain. At first, it was subtle—nagging aches, stiffness that didn’t go away. But then it became something more. Pain wasn’t just an inconvenience; it dictated what I could and couldn’t do. Doctors didn’t always have clear answers, and at times, it felt like I was being dismissed.
That frustration pushed me to start researching on my own-diving into biomechanics, nutrition, corrective exercise, and the ways the nervous system and pain are intertwined. I wasn’t just looking for relief; I was trying to understand why my body was responding this way. And what I found changed everything.
A while back, I wrote a blog post about this—one that really captures my experience in a way that feels raw and honest. And instead of just summarizing it, I want to share it with you here. So, here’s that piece, in its entirety.
This experience didn’t just lead me into fitness; it redefined how I approach movement altogether. It made me realize that pain isn’t just a physical experience—it’s emotional, neurological, and deeply personal. It’s why I’m so passionate about evidence-based approaches to health and why I push back against a lot of the oversimplified fitness narratives out there.
I’ve seen firsthand how the right training, nutrition, and mindset shifts can change the way someone interacts with their own body. And I’ve also seen the damage of quick-fix culture—where people are told they just need more discipline, or worse, that their pain is all in their head.
What I Wish More People Knew About Chronic Pain & Fitness
One of the biggest misconceptions I had to unlearn is that pain automatically means damage. That’s something I wish more people understood. Pain is real, but it’s also complex—it can be influenced by stress, trauma, movement patterns, and even the stories we tell ourselves about our bodies. Learning that was a game changer for me.
Another thing? There is no one-size-fits-all approach. Healing, strength, and movement look different for everyone, and that’s okay.
What to Expect From Taste Test Thursdays
So, that’s today’s leftover—a topic I didn’t get to fully explore in Season 3 but felt like now was the right time to share. But Taste Test Thursdays won’t always be this personal. Some weeks, I’ll take you inside my research process—breaking down how I fact-check, where I find sources, and the information I don’t trust. Other weeks, I’ll revisit ideas I didn’t have time for, explore unfiltered takes, or answer your burning questions.
Next week, we’ll be talking about how I put together my episodes—how I decide on topics, what I look for in sources, and some of the biggest red flags I watch out for when researching.
I’d love to hear from you—what’s been your experience with pain and fitness? Have you ever had to unlearn things about your own body? Let me know over on Instagram or in the comments if you’re listening somewhere that allows it.
Thanks for being here, and as always—maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in!
Political scientists have long found that our opinions are shaped more by group identity than by rational self-interest. As Jonathan Haidt explains in The Righteous Mind, politics is deeply tribal—we’re hardwired to align with groups, not necessarily because they offer truth, but because they provide belonging.
As I’ve been navigating the deconstruction, ex-Christian, ex-cult communities, I’ve noticed for many, the radical progressive left becomes their new “safe” community, offering a clear moral hierarchy—oppressed vs. oppressor, privileged vs. marginalized. It mirrors what they once found in their faith.
But here’s the problem: the partisan brain, already trained in “us vs. them” thinking, doesn’t become freer—it simply finds a new orthodoxy.
These words dominate the language of social justice activism, but what do they actually mean? If you take them at face value, you might think they’re about fighting discrimination or ensuring equal opportunity.
But if you really listen—if you really follow the ideology to its core—it all comes back to one thing: capitalism.
For the radical left, capitalism isn’t just an economic system; it’s the system—the root of all oppression. The force that creates every hierarchy, every disparity, every injustice.
When they say systemic racism, they don’t mean individual prejudice or even discriminatory laws—they mean the entire capitalist structure that, in their view, was built to privilege some and exploit others.
And here’s the part that’s honestly exhausting—watching the same deconstruction folks preach about “decolonizing healing” and “Christian nationalism” in the same breath while pushing trauma support for religious survivors—all while being knee-deep in Critical Race Theory.
It’s one thing to acknowledge past harms. But this ideology just piles on more depression and anxiety without offering real solutions.
Let’s get real: this isn’t healing. It’s more of the same toxic division and victimhood—repackaged as activism.
And if you think I’m exaggerating, just listen to this clip from my interview last season with the founder of Tears of Eden, a nonprofit supporting survivor of spiritual abuse:
Katherine Spearing: (Timestamp 4:32) “Now, like, one of the things that I have committed to—who knows how long it will last—I don’t listen to white men. Like, I don’t listen to white men’s podcasts, I don’t listen to white men on TV, white men sermons, I don’t read white men’s books, and I miss ZERO things by not listening to white men. There is amazing material created by BIPOC, queer-identifying people, women—I miss ZERO things not listening to white men. And we, as a culture—especially in fundamentalist spaces—have platformed white men as voices of authority and trust.”
Now let’s take Nikki G. Speaks, who also works with Tears of Eden. Her book frames Christian nationalism as the root of systemic oppression, defining it in a way that casts anyone with conservative values or moral convictions as complicit. And it’s not just an argument—it’s being packaged as trauma recovery. Just look at how it’s marketed:
“Hearing the same controlling language in our laws that I heard in church feels like a step backward in my healing.”“It’s like my trauma has left the church and entered our government—it’s a reminder of how pervasive these beliefs can be.”
This isn’t about healing—it’s about turning political disagreement into personal trauma. And this is just one example of how therapy spaces are being used to enforce ideology rather than foster true recovery.
Let that sink in.
This is what is being promoted under the guise of “healing.”
This isn’t about liberation. It’s about swapping one dogma for another, one form of control for another. And the worst part?
It’s being fed to people who have already been deeply wounded, offering them more alienation and resentment instead of real recovery.
This is where intersectionality comes in.
Coined by Kimberlé Crenshaw in the 1980s, intersectionality originally described how different forms of discrimination—race, gender, class—could compound. But in the hands of modern activists, it’s become something much broader—a blueprint for how capitalism oppresses everyone.
Race? Capitalism’s fault. Gender? A hierarchy created by capitalism. Policing? A tool of capitalism to protect property and maintain order. Disability? Even that, they argue, is socially constructed through a capitalist framework that determines who is “productive” and who isn’t.
The goal isn’t reform—it’s destruction. Private property, free markets, law enforcement, even objective truth itself—everything is viewed as an extension of capitalism’s oppressive grip. And because the U.S. Constitution protects that system, it too is labeled a racist, colonialist document that must be overturned.
This is why, no matter what progress is made, America will always be deemed a racist society by those who see racism and capitalism as inextricably linked. And if you think this sounds extreme, just wait—because the next frontier, Queer Marxism, takes it even further. This emerging ideology argues that capitalism didn’t just create economic classes but created gender itself. That masculinity and femininity aren’t just cultural norms, but capitalist inventions designed to uphold oppression.
The radical goal? Not just to redefine gender—but to abolish it entirely.
Today, I’m joined by someone who saw this ideology take over firsthand.
Suzannah Alexander is the writer behind Diogenes in Exile and a self-described whistleblower. Her journey took a sharp turn when she returned to grad school to pursue a master’s in clinical Mental Health Counseling at the University of Tennessee. Instead of a rigorous academic environment, she found a program completely entrenched in Critical Theories—one that didn’t just push radical ideas but actively rejected her Buddhist practice and raised serious ethical concerns about how future therapists were being trained. Believing the curriculum would do more harm than good, she made the difficult decision to leave.
Since then, Suzannah has dedicated herself to investigating and exposing the ideological capture of psychology, higher education, and other institutions that seem to have lost their way.
Today, we’re pulling back the curtain on what’s really happening in academia and the mental health field—how radical ideologies are shaping the next generation of therapists, and what that means for all of us.
This isn’t just about politics.
This is about the fundamental reshaping of how we think about identity, human nature, and even reality itself.
Buckle up—this conversation is going to challenge some assumptions.
Let’s get into it.
The ‘Shell Game’ of Autonomy vs. Collectivism
In the counseling profession, the ACA (American Counseling Association) Code of Ethics emphasizes autonomy as a fundamental value. Counselors are meant to respect the autonomy of their clients, allowing them to make decisions based on their own needs, values, and beliefs. However, there’s a disturbing contradiction in the way this value is applied.
Suzannah points out a glaring issue: while the ACA Code of Ethics pushes for autonomy on an individual level, the broader agenda within counselor training increasingly prioritizes societal goals—often driven by collectivist ideologies—over the well-being of the individual client. She likens this contradiction to a “shell game,” where one thing (autonomy) is promised, but what you get is something entirely different: an emphasis on societal goals and moral frameworks that favor groupthink over personal decision-making.
From Competence to Conformity: The New Standard for Counselor Training
In Suzannah’s story, she highlights how counseling programs have made a troubling shift from evaluating students based on competence—their ability to effectively help clients—to assessing whether they’re willing to “confess, comply, and conform.” This process, Suzannah describes, is what she terms “ideological purification.”
This ideological purification isn’t about developing professional skill; it’s about enforcing a prescribed set of beliefs. Under the influence of CACREP (Council for Accreditation of Counseling and Related Educational Programs) standards, students are now pressured to align their personal values and beliefs with certain ideological standards. For Suzannah, this was most evident in how multicultural counseling courses and other required coursework increasingly centered around critical race theory, intersectionality, and social justice activism.
Suzannah asks: How can this ideological shift affect students who resist, and what happens when they’re coerced into aligning with values that aren’t their own?
The danger here is twofold: students who resist this ideological conditioning may find themselves marginalized, pushed out of programs, or forced into an uncomfortable position where they feel pressured to abandon their own beliefs. This, Suzannah argues, creates a chilling atmosphere for anyone who doesn’t conform to the prescribed worldview.
Ideological Purity in Counselor Training: What’s at Stake?
Suzannah’s personal experience with CACREP’s “dispositions” exemplifies the pressure to align personal beliefs with ideological standards. She shares that this led to her being placed on a “Support Plan”—essentially a probationary period where she was expected to prove her ideological compliance. This was compounded by verbal abuse from professors who seemed intent on forcing her to adopt a specific worldview, regardless of her personal or professional integrity.
Suzannah reflects: How did this ideological enforcement affect her professional integrity? The pressure to abandon her personal beliefs and adopt prescribed values made her question whether counseling, a field that should center around helping individuals find their own path, had become more about enforcing conformity than fostering autonomy.
The Impact of Ideological Capture on Effective Therapy
Suzannah’s concerns go beyond her own experience; she warns of the long-term consequences of this ideological capture on the broader counseling profession. As the training process increasingly focuses on ideological purity rather than competence, it undermines the very foundation of therapy—trust, autonomy, and the ability to genuinely help clients.
Suzannah argues that when counselor training programs force students to abandon their personal beliefs, they create a system where the ability to genuinely help clients is compromised. Counselors may find themselves unable to offer support that reflects the true diversity of their clients’ experiences—particularly those who may not share the same ideological framework. This ideological conditioning poses a real threat to the integrity of the counseling profession as a whole.
The Long-Term Consequences: A Dangerous Path
The future of the counseling profession, as Suzannah warns, is in jeopardy if this trend of ideological conformity continues. What once was a field designed to support individuals in navigating their personal struggles is at risk of becoming another ideological tool, where practitioners are forced to conform to an orthodoxy rather than providing true, individualized care.
As Suzannah explains, the core values of counseling—such as autonomy, respect for the individual, and the ability to help clients work through their unique experiences—are being overshadowed by an agenda that prioritizes ideological purity. If this trend continues, it may lead to a future where counselors are more concerned with political correctness than the well-being of their clients.
The Final Question: Is Healing Possible in This New Environment?
Suzannah’s story raises critical questions about the future of counseling and mental health support in an increasingly ideological landscape. How do counselors maintain their professional integrity in a system that demands conformity? How can clients receive true support when the professionals meant to help them are being trained under such an ideological framework?
The answers to these questions will shape the future of mental health care. If the trend of ideological capture continues, it may very well reshape the profession into something unrecognizable—an environment where therapy becomes just another vehicle for ideological control, rather than a space for healing and personal growth.
Have thoughts on this?Join the conversation! If you’ve experienced the impact of ideological conformity in mental health training or therapy, share your story in the comments or send us a message. The more we understand the forces shaping mental health care, the better equipped we are to fight for a future where autonomy and true healing are at the center of care.
When Affirmation Fails: The Fight for Justice in Gender Medicine
For years, we’ve been told that gender affirmation is the only compassionate response. Questioning it? Unthinkable. But as the dust settles, more and more individuals are coming forward with stories of regret, medical complications, and the realization that they weren’t given the full picture before making life-altering decisions.
This week on Taste of Truth Tuesdays, I sat down with Martha, co-founder of Transition Justice, an organization dedicated to helping detransitioners and their families seek legal recourse. If you’re unfamiliar, Transition Justice is one of the few organizations providing legal resources for those who feel they were misled, rushed, or even coerced into medical transition without true informed consent.
The Legal Battle Over Gender Medicine
One of the biggest takeaways from my conversation with Martha was the growing number of legal cases related to gender medicine. Detransitioners—many of whom transitioned as minors—are now speaking out, claiming that the medical community failed them. They argue they were fast-tracked into hormone therapy and surgeries without adequate psychological evaluation or a real understanding of the long-term consequences.
Transition Justice connects these individuals with legal professionals who can help them navigate potential malpractice suits and other forms of legal action. The goal? Accountability. Because when medical institutions push an ideology over evidence-based care, lives are affected—permanently.
Social & Ideological Pressures: A Personal Reflection
As someone who lived in Portland for years, I watched firsthand as gender ideology swept through my social circles. I had friends who transitioned, friends who encouraged their kids to transition, and a culture that made any dissent feel like social suicide. Parents who hesitated were accused of being unsupportive, bigoted, even abusive. Many went along with it—not because they were convinced, but because they were afraid.
Now, years later, some of those same parents are questioning everything. Some of those kids, now young adults, regret what happened. But where do they turn when their bodies have changed irreversibly? When the very institutions that promised to help them are nowhere to be found?
The Ethics of Informed Consent
One of the key issues Martha and I discussed was the tension between bodily autonomy and medical ethics. Should adults have the right to modify their bodies as they see fit? Some states limit abortion at some extent. But what about minors? What about individuals who were never properly informed of the risks? What happens when a decision made at 13 results in permanent medical complications at 25?
Medical ethics demand that patients receive full, unbiased information about risks, benefits, and alternatives before undergoing treatment. But in many cases, detransitioners say they were only given one path: affirmation or nothing. The idea that therapy, alternative treatments, or even just more time to explore could be a viable option was dismissed as “conversion therapy.” That’s not informed consent—that’s coercion.
What Comes Next?
The tide is shifting. Countries like the UK, Sweden, and Finland have already started scaling back gender-affirming treatments for minors, citing a lack of evidence and serious concerns about long-term harm. The U.S., however, remains deeply divided. But as more detransitioners come forward and more lawsuits gain traction, it’s clear this conversation isn’t going away.
Martha believes we’re on the cusp of major legal and cultural shifts. Institutions that once claimed there were “no regrets” are being forced to reckon with reality. And for those who were harmed? Transition Justice is fighting to make sure they’re heard—and that those responsible are held accountable.
Final Thoughts
This is a conversation we need to have—without fear, without labels, and without ideological blinders. If we care about bodily autonomy, medical ethics, and the well-being of future generations, we can’t afford to look away.
Want to hear the full discussion? Listen to my interview with Martha on Taste of Truth Tuesdays! And if you or someone you know has been impacted by these issues, check out Transition Justice at
🙏 Please help this podcast reach a larger audience in hope to edify & encourage others! To do so: leave a 5⭐️ review and send it to a friend! Thank you for listening! I’d love to hear from you, find me on Instagram! @taste0ftruth , @megan_mefit , Pinterest! Substack and on X!
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.
Beyond the Glamour: The Dark Reality of the Sex Industry
Welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays. Today’s episode is one that I’ve both been eager and hesitant to share. While I’ve spoken about my journey through faith, fitness and personal transformation that there’s one chapter I’ve largely kept private until now….
For most of my life, I was fed a specific narrative: go to college, get a degree, build a career, and don’t worry about prioritizing marriage or family. Financial independence was the ultimate goal.
After graduating college, I moved from Virginia to Portland, Oregon, to chase my career as a personal trainer, lifestyle coach, and professional circus performer. My income relied on clientele, and while I had busy seasons, nothing was ever truly stable. But with inconsistent income and the ever-present pressure to make ends meet, I found myself in a space that many glamorize but few truly understand—the world of sugar dating.
At first, it didn’t seem that different from the casual dating I was already doing—except now, dinner was covered, and there was a financial incentive. But the deeper I got, the more I realized how unstable and unsafe it was. Most of these men didn’t care about you as a person; they just wanted no-strings-attached access to your body. And when I found myself in situations where I wasn’t in control—where boundaries were ignored, protection was negotiable, and at times, I left empty-handed even after doing my part—I started to see the cracks in the ‘empowerment’ narrative. I remember one night, sitting in my car after being verbally and physically assaulted, I realized I had no one to report it to. No way to warn the next woman. That’s when the illusion fully shattered for me.
That’s why today’s conversation is so important. I’m joined by Sloane Wilson from Exodus Cry, an organization dedicated to exposing the truth about sexual exploitation and advocating for survivors. We’re unpacking the hard truths about the sex industry, the myths that keep women trapped in it, and the cultural shifts that have normalized what should never be considered “just work.”
But we’re also diving into something deeper, faith. Both Sloane and I have gone through our own journeys of deconstruction and reconstruction. She’s seen firsthand how the church can mishandle encountering survivors and how delicate and complex these situations can be.
The Reality of “Sugar Dating”
Some nights felt harmless—like having dinner with a businessman who just wanted company and conversation. But most nights? They were anything but that. The truth is, the fantasy of sugar dating—mutually beneficial, long-term arrangements with financial stability—was just that: a fantasy. Most men weren’t offering monthly allowances or ongoing support. They wanted pay-per-meet agreements—no strings attached, no safety net, just transactional sex. And when survival depended on it, I found myself scrambling to secure the next “daddy.”
I struggled to assert myself, especially in two key areas: insisting on protection and ensuring I was paid upfront. That put me at immense risk—both for my health and my safety. One night, I was forced into acts I didn’t consent to, verbally assaulted, and then left empty-handed. Sitting in my car afterward, I realized something chilling: there was no one to report it to. No way to warn the next girl. No system to hold these men accountable.
Some men had hidden home cameras, recording our time together without my consent. Others were forceful, rough, and used sex toys in ways that crossed every boundary I had. And yet, as awful as those experiences were, I knew I was lucky—because it could have been so much worse.
Most of these men pushed to move conversations off the platform as quickly as possible, demanding explicit photos before agreeing to meet. When you’re in a financial bind, it’s hard to say no. That’s how exploitation thrives—through desperation.
The Trap of a “Luxe” Illusion
Looking back, I wonder—why didn’t I just walk away? Why couldn’t I see, from the beginning, that this wasn’t sustainable? I wasn’t like most women in the industry. I was white, college-educated, and didn’t even have student debt shackling me. My financial stress came from my own reckless spending—maxed-out credit cards and the relentless costs of bodybuilding, a sport I was pouring everything into. So why, with all the options I had, did I keep chasing this?
I think part of it was desperation. The MLM-like promise of sugar dating had me convinced that if I just worked harder, played the game right, and landed the right arrangement, I could have financial security and independence. I put more energy into curating the perfect sugar persona than I ever did into building my personal training business. And maybe, just maybe, I was chasing the mirage of someone close to me—someone who had made sugar dating “work.” I saw her succeed, and I kept believing I could, too.
But there’s another layer. One I don’t love admitting (and one my mom will absolutely deny.) My mother praised me for it. She told me, “I wish I had done this when I was your age.” That kind of validation messes with your perception of right and wrong. It made it seem like I was onto something genius, like I had cracked code other women were too scared or too moralistic to try. Was I subconsciously trying to prove something? Was I filling the void left by emotional neglect?
Or was it just my own damn fault?
That’s the thing about these choices—they never come down to just one reason. It is always more complex. It wasn’t just the financial stress. It wasn’t just my upbringing. It wasn’t just the influence of someone I admired. It was all of it, tangled together, keeping me locked in place. And it took me years to realize that no amount of effort or strategy would turn sugar dating into the safety net I desperately wanted it to be.
The Lie of “Sex Work is Work”
For a long time, I believed the mantra: “sex work is work.” It’s the rallying cry of the sex-positive movement, a phrase meant to legitimize the industry. Prostitution is often called “the oldest profession,” but historically, it has always been a last resort for survival. Women don’t enter this industry because it’s empowering. They do it because they have no better options.
The real harm in prostitution isn’t just about bad working conditions or societal stigma. It’s about dehumanization. When sex is reduced to a transaction, people become commodities. And when we treat people like products to be bought and sold, we strip them of their dignity.
Louise Perry, in The Case Against the Sexual Revolution, makes this point powerfully. She argues that the sex industry’s only real defense is a hollow, commodified version of “liberation”—one that insists, “Everyone consents, everyone is an adult, the women enjoy it, so who are you to judge?” But when consent is the only moral standard, we ignore the broader ethical issue: that people are being treated as means to an end. Consent alone does not erase coercion, exploitation, or harm.
In our postmodern culture, we’ve rejected objective morality and replaced it with a consumerist approach to sex. If both parties “agree,” then anything goes. But this is a dangerous slope—one that allows predatory men to exploit desperate women under the guise of empowerment.
Insights from Recent Research
New research exposes the blurred lines between sugar dating and traditional sex work. A study published in The Journal of Sex Research found that over one-third of sugar babies have engaged in other forms of transactional sex work, such as escorting or stripping. This challenges the narrative that sugar dating is different or “classier” than prostitution. The reality? It operates on the same fundamental exchange.
The study also found that sugar benefactors reported an average of over six arrangements, indicating a revolving door of sugar relationships. For these men, sugar dating is just another avenue for purchasing companionship and sex.
Beyond the emotional toll, sugar dating carries serious legal and personal risks. Legal experts warn that these arrangements can lead to blackmail, coercion, and threats—especially when expectations aren’t met. Many women find themselves in vulnerable situations with no real recourse. The illusion of control is just that—an illusion.
The Flawed Narrative Around Sex Work and Deconstructing Purity Culture
In the deconstruction space, there’s a growing trend of equating sexual liberation with empowerment while rejecting any critique of the sex industry as moral panic. A popular post circulating on International Sex Workers Day exemplifies this mindset, arguing that deconstructing purity culture requires deconstructing any negative views of sex work. The claim? Sex work and sex trafficking are entirely separate, and many big Christian anti-trafficking organizations wrongly conflate the two to push an agenda. The post insists that if a person is not forced, defrauded, or coerced, they are simply making a free choice to engage in sex work. But this argument is deeply flawed when examined through historical context, real-world data, and the experiences of women who have lived through it.
The Demand Problem: Why Legalizing Sex Work Doesn’t Protect Women
One of the most critical oversights in this argument is the failure to acknowledge that sex work is a demand-driven industry. As Louise Perry outlines in The Case Against the Sexual Revolution, countries that have legalized prostitution have seen an increase in trafficking. Why? Because legalizing the industry normalizes the demand for paid sex, and when there aren’t enough willing participants, traffickers step in to fill the gap. Studies show that in places like Germany and the Netherlands, where prostitution is legal, trafficking rates have skyrocketed because the market rewards pimps and exploiters. The idea that sex work can be fully separate from trafficking ignores the economic reality that supply follows demand.
Linda Lovelace’s experience in Deep Throat is a perfect example of this. The film was a massive success, grossing over $600 million, and was hailed as revolutionary at the time. But years later, Lovelace revealed that she had been coerced into performing in the film under violent and abusive conditions. Her book Ordeal exposed the hidden abuse within the industry—an industry that thrives precisely because there is a market for extreme, degrading content. This isn’t an isolated case; countless women have echoed similar stories after leaving the industry, only to be dismissed while they were still in it because they were expected to uphold the “liberation” narrative.
The Exploitation Behind the Industry
Another major flaw in the sex-work-as-liberation argument is the lack of accountability within the industry itself. MindGeek, the corporation behind the world’s largest pornography sites, has faced multiple civil lawsuits for monetizing non-consensual content—including child sexual abuse, rape, revenge pornography, and voyeuristic recordings of women showering. Reports from December 2020 revealed that the platform was infested with videos depicting abuse and that it profited from some of the darkest corners of human sexuality.
The industry thrives on the illusion that all participants are willing, yet it repeatedly fails to ensure consent. The reality is that the vast majority of those in sex work come from backgrounds of financial instability, trauma, or coercion—not from an empowered, freely chosen career path. The notion that sex work is “just another job” ignores how uniquely dangerous, exploitative, and often inescapable it can be.
The Broader Issue: Normalizing Harm Under the Guise of Liberation
This same pattern of dismissing harm under the banner of liberation isn’t exclusive to the sex industry. I recently came across another example in the deconstruction space where an account that advocates for women’s sexual empowerment was documenting her abortion experience on National Abortion Day. She filmed herself taking the abortion pill as if it were nothing—a casual, almost celebratory act. But this kind of messaging erases the medical realities and risks associated with the abortion pill. It ignores the fact that women absolutely should get an ultrasound before taking it to determine gestational age and rule out ectopic pregnancy, which can be fatal if left untreated. Reducing such a serious medical decision to a political performance trivializes the real consequences that many women face.
This connects back to the issue with sex work: the rush to de-stigmatize everything labeled as “empowerment” often leads to a dangerous lack of critical thought. If deconstruction is about questioning harmful narratives, then why aren’t we allowed to question the harm within the sex industry? Why does rejecting purity culture mean embracing an industry that, time and time again, has been built on coercion, abuse, and exploitation?
Deconstructing purity culture shouldn’t mean abandoning discernment. If anything, it should mean taking an even closer look at these industries and asking hard questions about who truly benefits from them. Because when we actually listen to the stories of women who have left sex work, the pattern is clear: what is sold as empowerment often turns out to be exploitation in disguise.
Healing & Advocacy
Looking back, my perspective has completely shifted. The journey out of the sex industry has been long and complicated, but I’m grateful for the clarity I have now. Organizations like Exodus Cry work to expose the realities of the commercial sex trade and fight for real change. And voices like Louise Perry’s are crucial in dismantling the harmful myths that keep this industry alive.
The sexual revolution promised liberation, but for many women, it delivered exploitation instead. The more we normalize the commodification of sex, the more we enable the very systems that harm us. It’s time to rethink everything we’ve been told about “sex work” and start asking: Who really benefits from this industry? Because it’s certainly not the women inside it.
If you’ve ever questioned the narrative around sex work, if you’ve been curious about the reality behind sugar dating, or if you want to hear from someone who’s been there—I invite you to tune in.
It’s time to move beyond the glamour and face the truth.
Taste0ftruth Tuesdays 