Why I Don’t Talk About Food as Much as You Think I Should

Because how you live feeds you just as much as how you eat

It’s been a minute since I’ve written anything specifically about food.

Which I know sounds strange, considering I’m a health and wellness coach and most people hear that title and immediately think nutrition. Smoothies. Supplements. Someone telling you to stop eating gluten.

But here’s the thing.

Food is important. Deeply important. I genuinely believe food is medicine. It shows up on our faces. It shows up in our energy. It shows up in our digestion, our hormones, our moods. Show me your body and, more often than not, I can tell you a lot about your relationship with food.

Food is a major pillar in our wellness journeys.

I just don’t think it’s the most important one.

The reason I talk so much, and so passionately, about mindset, movement, joy, purpose, relationships, and doing things you actually love is because I believe those are the primary foods on our plate. The most impactful nourishment in our lives isn’t always something we ingest.

Some of the most important “food” we consume never passes our lips.

That said, this is a post about food, so let’s get into it.

Or maybe it’s more accurately a post about why I don’t spend my time getting preachy about what you should or shouldn’t eat, or pushing a single nutrition protocol as the answer to everything.

And to put it bluntly, it’s because we are wildly bio-individual.

There is no one-size-fits-all plan, no matter how convincing the wellness influencers are. Let’s use me as an example.

Take the Paleo diet. In theory, I get it. I really do. The idea is rooted in eating the foods our ancestors would have consumed before agriculture and modern processing entered the chat. Meat, fish, vegetables, wild fruits, eggs, nuts. No grains. No legumes. No packaged foods with ingredient lists longer than a CVS receipt.

The logic is simple: if a caveman couldn’t eat it, we probably shouldn’t either.

Healthy fats are encouraged. Vegetables are the primary carbohydrate source, making it relatively low-carb. Animal proteins, including their naturally occurring fats, are front and center. Red meat, poultry, pork, eggs, even organ meats are all invited to the party.

Fruits are limited because they would have been seasonal “treats,” not daily staples. Exercise tends to skew intense. Think CrossFit. Sunlight for vitamin D is encouraged. Eat when you’re hungry. Stop when you’re full.

On paper, it makes a lot of sense.

In real life, it completely wrecks me.

My body does not process animal protein well. Red meat in particular is a hard no. And I mean that quite literally. Not to get graphic, but my digestive system stages a full revolt.

And while Paleo loves a big raw salad, raw vegetables and lettuce are incredibly difficult for me to digest. My gut much prefers cooked vegetables, warm meals, and foods that don’t feel like they’re scraping their way through my insides.

Intense work outs, might have worked at one point in my life, but these days they send my nervous system into fight or flight.

So while the theory is solid, the practice is a disaster for my body.

This is where wellness gets tricky.

Because most popular protocols make sense in theory. And wellness influencers will naturally promote what worked for them. They build courses, programs, and entire brands around their personal success stories.

That doesn’t make them wrong. But it also doesn’t make them universally right.

Your body is not their body. Your digestion, stress levels, hormones, history, and nervous system are entirely your own. What feels energizing and healing to one person can feel depleting and inflammatory to another.

And that, my friend, is the point.

So what do I preach? What’s my secret sauce?

Honestly? No rigid plan at all.

I look at the major nutrition philosophies and pay attention to where they overlap. And almost without exception, they all land in the same place: whole, real food.

Food in its most natural state. Food that doesn’t require a nutrition label to explain itself. Food that looks like something that once grew, swam, or grazed.

From there, I listen to my body.

For me, that looks like a lot of fish, eggs, plenty of cooked vegetables, olive oil, nuts, seeds, olives, whole-fat yogurt, and fruit. Simple meals. Warm meals. Foods that feel supportive instead of punishing.

I live mostly on the outside edges of the grocery store because that’s where my body feels best.

There’s no dogma. No food fear. No moral hierarchy of what’s “good” or “bad.”

Just nourishment that works for me.

And that’s ultimately what I want for you too.

A relationship with food that feels steady, intuitive, and supportive inside the life you’re actually living.

That’s also why I don’t talk about nutrition the way people expect a health coach to. Food matters. Deeply. It supports energy, digestion, hormones, mood, and how we move through the world. It plays an important role.

It just isn’t the foundation.

The way you think. The way you manage stress. The quality of your relationships. The meaning you feel in your day-to-day life. How you move your body. How often you experience joy. Those inputs shape your health long before a single bite reaches your plate.

Those are the meals you’re consuming every day.

When those pieces are supported, food becomes simpler. Choices feel clearer. Eating feels less like a decision tree and more like a conversation with your body.

So yes, this was a post about food. Just not the kind of food you assumed

Because the most powerful nourishment in your life doesn’t come from what you eat. It comes from how you live.