Let’s start here.

If you're reading this thinking, “Sure, Cristina… I get what you're saying, but that feels really far away from where I am,”—I hear you.

Maybe food feels like it takes up way too much mental space.
Maybe you follow certain food “rules” but don’t really think you have disordered eating.
Maybe you just want to be healthy and don’t see how that could be a problem.

This post isn’t a list of things you should be doing. It’s a gentle look at how we can start unlearning the messages that keep us stuck in food obsession, shame, or fear—and explore new ways forward that actually feel good.

1. Reconsider the labels: good vs. bad food

You might be thinking:
"But Cristina… some foods are unhealthy. What’s wrong with saying that?”

The truth is, most people don’t label foods to be mean or judgmental. They do it because they’ve been taught that certain foods are clean, right, or virtuous—and others are not. But those labels don’t stay on the food. They end up getting attached to you.

Eating a “bad” food makes you feel like you’re bad. And that creates a moral tug-of-war every time you eat.

The goal isn’t to pretend that all food affects the body the same way—it’s to stop assigning moral value to food choices so you can make decisions from a place of care, not shame.

💡 Try this: Begin noticing the labels you use. Instead of “I was so bad last night,” try “I had dessert and it really hit the spot.” Describe food for what it is, not what it says about you.

2. Tune into how food really feels

You might be thinking:
"But I do feel better when I skip breakfast or eat really ‘clean.’ Isn’t that proof it works for me?”

Maybe. But let’s dig a little deeper.

Do you feel better physically?
Or do you feel more in control? More disciplined? Less anxious?

It’s worth asking what “feeling better” actually means. Because for many people, that feeling is tied to temporary relief from food anxiety—not nourishment or satisfaction.

💡 Try this: Get curious, not judgmental. Ask yourself:

What am I hoping to feel when I eat (or skip) this?
Is this choice about honoring my body or avoiding discomfort?

3. Name the rules you didn’t know you had

You might be thinking:
"I don’t really have food rules… I just try to eat a certain way."

And that might be true. But even subtle guidelines like “I can’t eat carbs at dinner” or “I need to save sweets for the weekend” can turn into rigid frameworks over time.

Sometimes, it’s not until we don’t follow the rule that we realize how much power it had. That guilt or shame? That’s the rule revealing itself.

💡 Try this: Pick one “should” or rule you live by and ask:

Where did this come from?
How do I feel when I break it?
What would flexibility look like here?

The goal isn’t to ditch every structure—it’s to notice which rules create shame, guilt, or rigidity, and to challenge whether they’re actually serving you.

4. Consider that support isn’t about losing control—it’s about getting your life back

You might be thinking:
"It’s not that serious. I don’t need help. I just care about my health."

And maybe that's true. But if you're reading this, chances are this takes up more brain space than you want it to.
Maybe you feel like you’re “winning” some days and “failing” others. Maybe every meal feels like a tiny battle you’re constantly trying to win.

Getting support doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’re ready to stop carrying the mental load alone.

The truth is…

You don’t have to wait until you hit rock bottom to unlearn what’s not working.
You don’t have to identify as “sick enough” to deserve peace with food.
You don’t have to feel guilty or ashamed for struggling.

Making peace with food isn’t a destination—it’s a practice. And you’re allowed to begin right where you are.