Food Rules Were Meant to Be Broken
Diet culture loves commandments. You know the ones: Don’t eat after seven. Breakfast is mandatory. Salads are always healthy. Fat makes you fat. Save your cravings for a “cheat day.” These rules get repeated like gospel in magazines, TikToks, and weight-loss forums. They sound so clean, so certain. But let’s be real—certainty is not the same as truth.
And here’s the core problem with food rules: rigidity. When you live inside someone else’s rulebook, you’re not deciding—you’re complying. That means you’re letting a diet plan, a fitness influencer, or a 1990s women’s magazine tell you how to eat, instead of actually listening to your own body.
The setup is predictable. Life throws you a curveball—late work meeting, a birthday dinner, a vacation, or just the fact that you’re human—and you “break” the rule. Suddenly you’re not just someone who ate a slice of pizza; you’re a failure. And that guilt doesn’t stop at guilt. It snowballs into “I blew it,” which turns into a binge, which puts you right back at square one.
That cycle doesn’t teach you anything useful. It doesn’t show you how your hunger works. It doesn’t teach you how to balance a plate or how consistency beats intensity every single time. It just trains you in one thing: shame.
I lived in that cycle for years. And I can tell you from firsthand experience: shame is heavy. Shame doesn’t help you lose weight. Shame makes you quit, hide, and start over Monday after Monday.
So what’s the alternative? Simple. More honest. And way more sustainable: choosing.
The Timing Myth
Let’s start with one of the dumbest rules ever invented: the timing myth.
The idea is that your body has some internal alarm clock that freaks out at 7:01 p.m. and magically turns every carb you eat into body fat. Seriously? If that were true, every nurse on a night shift, every ER doctor, and every entrepreneur who works late would be doomed.
Here’s the truth: carbs at 6 p.m. and carbs at 10 p.m. are the same damn thing—fuel. What changes your outcome isn’t the clock; it’s the context: total intake, food quality, movement, stress, and sleep.
I used to skip dinner because I thought eating late would ruin me. You know what happened? At 11 p.m. I would raid the pantry like a raccoon in the suburbs. And then, of course, the shame spiral would kick in: “I broke the rule. I failed.”
Now? If pasta sounds right for dinner, I eat the pasta. But I make a choice—I add protein, throw in vegetables, keep the portion reasonable, and sometimes I take a walk afterward. That’s balance. That’s freedom. That’s how you build a life you don’t need to escape from.
Weight loss that actually lasts isn’t built on superstition about the clock. It’s built on dozens of small, aligned choices.
The Salad Halo
Another classic: the salad halo.
We’ve all been told salads = healthy. Period. End of discussion. But let me tell you something—salads can lie. A salad can be fiber-rich, colorful, and nutrient-dense… or it can be a calorie bomb smothered in fried chicken strips, shredded cheese, bacon bits, and a creamy dressing heavy enough to drown a small animal.
I’ve sat across the table from friends proudly ordering the “healthy” Cobb salad while I ordered a burger. Guess what? Their salad had more calories, more sodium, and less satisfaction than my burger.
The danger isn’t salads. The danger is outsourcing your judgment to a label like “healthy.” Health isn’t a category; it’s a set of choices.
A smart salad? Colorful veggies, a lean protein, some healthy fats, and dressing in a portion that makes sense. A smart burger? Maybe you eat it, enjoy every bite, and balance your choices for the rest of the day. That’s not failure—it’s strategy.
When you give yourself permission to choose, the rebellion fizzles out. You stop obsessing over what you “can’t” have, and you start learning how to enjoy food without letting it own you.
Breakfast: Mandatory or Myth?
Here’s another lightning rod: breakfast.
Some gurus will swear up and down that skipping breakfast wrecks your metabolism. Others will claim intermittent fasting is the only way to lose weight. Who’s right? Neither.
The key is bio-individuality. If eating breakfast stabilizes your hunger, sharpens your focus, and prevents you from inhaling a Chipotle burrito the size of a toddler at noon, then eat breakfast. If delaying your first meal until lunchtime keeps you energized, less hungry, and less stressed about food, then delay.
The only real test is you. I’ve experimented with both. For a long time, pushing my first meal later worked beautifully—I was less food-obsessed, more focused, and still on track. But during other seasons of life, like when I was training harder, skipping breakfast left me foggy and cranky.
The principle is test-and-learn. Track how you feel, how you perform, and how your choices stack up later in the day. The win isn’t fitting into a trend—it’s finding a system that you can repeat under real-life conditions.
The Cult of “Clean” Eating
Nothing makes me roll my eyes harder than the term “clean eating.”
It sounds virtuous, right? Clean. Pure. Holy food. But what’s the flip side of “clean”? Dirty. Which means if you eat pizza or a cookie, suddenly you are dirty. That’s how food moralizing wrecks people.
I lived that game too. I’d go on these streaks where I was “perfect” with clean foods, then I’d inevitably crack, eat something “dirty,” and end up binging. Because when you moralize food, you don’t just eat ice cream—you confess ice cream. You carry guilt like a scarlet letter.
Here’s the truth: whole, minimally processed foods are great. They support health, satiety, and energy. But weaving in the foods you love—without shame—is what keeps you consistent. Moderation isn’t mediocrity; it’s mastery.
My system now? 80–90% nutrient-dense choices, 10–20% fun foods. That ratio fuels my body and my soul. And guess what? It works. I don’t “fall off” anymore because there’s nothing to fall off of.
Fat Phobia
Let’s talk about fat.
For decades, we were told fat makes you fat. We stripped fat out of everything—cookies, yogurt, peanut butter—and replaced it with sugar and chemicals. The result? People didn’t lose weight. They got hungrier, crankier, and more addicted to processed junk.
Dietary fat isn’t the villain. Quality fats—avocado, salmon, olive oil, nuts—are critical for hormones, brain function, and staying satisfied. The trick is portion control. Pouring half a bottle of olive oil on your salad isn’t the move. But including fat strategically? That’s what keeps your meals “sticky” so you’re not rummaging through the pantry an hour later.
Cutting fat to zero just makes you chase fullness with carbs and sugar, which spikes and crashes your appetite. Adding fat back in is like flipping the switch from constantly foraging to actually being in control.
Cheat Days: The Worst Idea in Diet Culture
Oh, cheat days. Don’t get me started.
Diet culture wants you to white-knuckle your way through six days of restriction and then “reward” yourself with one day of chaos. Translation: binge until you’re sick, then start Monday in a puddle of shame.
I used to buy into this. I’d “be good” all week and then annihilate a pizza, a pint of ice cream, and whatever else I could cram in. It didn’t feel like balance—it felt like whiplash.
Here’s the reframe: remove the word “cheat” entirely. Build flexibility into your actual week. If you want pizza on a Wednesday, have it—two slices, with a salad and water. If dessert calls, eat it, enjoy it, and move on.
When permission lives inside your daily system, you stop banking cravings like a squirrel hoarding nuts. You stop swinging between extremes. You get off the diet rollercoaster and finally build consistency.
So How Do You Choose?
Choosing sounds good, but what does it actually look like?
It’s not about grand gestures or perfect plans. It’s about small, repeatable actions that compound over time.
- Swap one sugary drink for water every day. That’s hundreds of calories cut in a week without a fight.
- Walk for ten minutes after dinner. Helps digestion, stabilizes blood sugar, and builds an identity as someone who moves.
- Build plates with structure: protein first for satiety, vegetables for volume, carbs for fuel, and fats for satisfaction.
- Pay attention to hunger and fullness cues instead of portion sizes written on a cardboard box.
- Sleep. Manage stress. Willpower isn’t the problem—exhaustion is.
I didn’t lose 140 pounds because I followed a rulebook. I lost it because I stopped outsourcing my choices to diet culture and started taking responsibility for the only thing I could control: my daily decisions.
And here’s the secret nobody in the $70-billion diet industry wants you to know: small smart choices, repeated, are boring. They don’t sell magazines. They don’t make flashy headlines. But they work.
The Bottom Line
Food rules were never the answer. They give the illusion of control while robbing you of the skill that actually matters: the ability to make consistent, intelligent choices in real life.
Choosing is harder at first because it requires awareness, not blind compliance. But once you build that muscle, it becomes freedom. You stop living in fear of “bad foods.” You stop blowing up every time life bends your schedule. You stop attaching shame to pizza and sainthood to kale.
I’m not here to give you another rulebook. I’m here to hand you back the steering wheel. Because the truth is, no food rule will ever make you free. Only choosing will.