Eating Better Without More Food Rules

40 Days Toward Sugar Freedom · Week 4

Last week, I noticed my brain starting to do something very familiar: look for the next thing to give up.

Chips were an obvious candidate. I’ve stepped away from desserts, candy, and the sweet treats that had become such a regular part of my days, so it would have been easy to decide that chips should go next.

Except I don’t want to spend these 40 days building a longer list of foods I’m not supposed to eat. I want to learn how I actually want to feed myself.

That may sound like a small difference, but for me it isn’t.

I already know how to make more rules

Years ago, when I studied through the Institute for Integrative Nutrition, I learned a concept they call crowding out. The basic idea is to put more attention on adding nourishing foods instead of concentrating only on deprivation and everything you need to remove.

I learned that years ago. I understood it then. Apparently, understanding something and actually living it are two very different things.

In some earlier seasons of trying to change my eating, I removed the obvious sugar, flour, and practically every small ingredient that contained sugar. So much attention went into figuring out what I could and couldn’t eat that eventually the whole thing felt exhausting.

By the time I had finished policing the ingredients, I didn’t have much energy left to ask, What would actually feed me well?

This time I’ve left myself more room. I still eat sourdough. I’m not worrying about every little bit of sugar in a sauce or ingredient. I’m making intentional choices without trying to eliminate every possible trace.

Something beautiful has come out of that. Instead of immediately wanting to make the rules tighter, I’m starting to think about what I could add.

The BLT that made it click

One lunch this week gave me a pretty good picture of what that could look like. I made myself a BLT with fresh-cut bacon, a garden tomato, my homemade sourdough, and fresh organic lettuce.

Normally I probably would have made half a sandwich and put chips beside it. This time I ate the whole sandwich and skipped the chips. I actually ate more food.

That stood out to me because so much of my history with “eating better” has been tied to eating less. Smaller portions. Take something off the plate. Leave something behind.

This was different. The whole sandwich filled me up and felt satisfying enough that I didn’t need the chips to make lunch feel complete.

There was no big sacrifice involved. I didn’t sit there wishing I had made half a sandwich so I could have chips instead.

It felt like crowding out in my actual kitchen. I gave myself enough of something I enjoyed, and something else naturally took up less room.

When a helpful idea becomes another rule

That lunch made me want to try making one better choice at each meal.

At dinner out, I ate more bread than I intended but chose a baked potato and salad instead of my usual loaded fries. I liked the reminder that one choice I wasn’t thrilled about didn’t cancel out another one I felt good about.

Then I had a McDonald’s egg and cheese biscuit for breakfast the next day and deliberately left a few bites behind. The problem was, I wasn’t necessarily leaving them because I knew I was full. Part of me wanted to be able to say, There. That was my better choice.

I could already see another food scorecard taking shape. Leave food behind: good. Eat everything: bad. That isn’t where I want this to go.

So I’m rethinking the question. Instead of asking myself to make one “better” choice at every meal, I’d rather ask:

What would actually support me here?

Sometimes that may mean eating less. My BLT had already shown me that sometimes it may mean eating more.

Learning both sides of enough

I got to see the other side of that later in the week.

I had eaten a late lunch because of a busy work day and was already pretty full when my husband and grandgirls sat down to dinner. I knew I didn’t need much food, but there was garlic-butter sourdough bread on the table.

I love that bread, and everyone else was sitting down to eat, so I had some anyway. Afterward, I felt overstuffed and wished I hadn’t eaten it. More than anything, I just didn’t like how uncomfortable I felt.

That’s part of nourishment too, I think.

I don’t want “eating better” to automatically mean eating less. I already learned this week how much better it can feel to give myself enough of a satisfying meal when I’m hungry. And the garlic bread reminded me to pay attention when I already had enough.

It’s ok to allow food as a little pleasure and part of sitting around a table with people I love. But maybe just a half of a piece of bread while enjoying those sweet, tiny faces would have been more than sufficient.

I’m trying to get better at noticing what my body is telling me without immediately turning that information into something I have to always do perfectly.

Progress didn’t look like a salad

Later in the week, I had a really hard day. My grandgirls had been with us all week, I was worn down, and there was family stress on top of it. My sugar cravings were louder again.

Dinner was pizza. I ate one piece and a cheese stick—not because I had decided that was the “right” amount, but because it felt like enough for me that night.

What stood out wasn’t the portion or what was on my plate. It was realizing that on a day when I was stressed and worn out, I hadn’t turned to food nearly as much as I might have before these 40 days began.

There was no impressive healthy dinner to point to. We had pizza on a hard night.

Still, food didn’t have to carry as much of that day for me. I think that belongs in my definition of progress too.

What if we started with what we want more of?

If you’ve spent years trying to “eat better,” you may know the routine.

We decide it’s time to get healthy and immediately start naming everything that has to go. No sugar. No chips. Less bread. Smaller portions. Fewer meals out.

Before long, eating can start to feel like another job.

What would happen if, before deciding what else needs to disappear, we asked:

What could I add that would leave me better fed and more satisfied?

Maybe that means making the sandwich substantial enough to actually be lunch. Adding something fresh you genuinely like. Cooking enough protein to have leftovers. Keeping food at home that sounds good enough that eating there doesn’t feel like the disappointing option.

It might also mean paying attention to whether you’re hungry, whether you’ve had enough, and how the foods you eat regularly leave you feeling. None of that has to become another set of rules.

This week I ate a satisfying BLT, restaurant bread, a McDonald’s breakfast, garlic-butter sourdough, and pizza. That mix is more normal and sustainable for me than a week of perfectly planned meals ever could be.

I know plenty about nutrition. I’m still learning how to live what I know.

The part I want to leave behind is the idea that caring for myself has to begin with disappointment in myself.

I don’t believe God is keeping score of whether I ordered the salad or the fries, finished everything on my plate, or ate pizza for dinner. I do believe this body and this life are gifts He has entrusted to me, and I want to learn to care for both without turning food into a set of unnecessary rules to follow.

Four weeks in, I’m less interested in asking what else I should give up which is relieving. I’m very interested in what I can make room for: food that satisfies me, meals I actually want to eat, and enough awareness to notice when I’m hungry, when I’ve had enough, and how I feel afterward.

Eating healthier and cutting back on sugar don’t have to mean more rules. We can make room for nourishment, satisfaction, and a little more grace in the way we feed ourselves.

Prayer for the Week

Father, help us care for our bodies without turning every meal into a test. Show us what nourishes us and help us pay attention to what leaves us satisfied and well cared for. Give us wisdom to add what supports us and loosen our grip on what doesn’t. Thank You for the bodies and lives You’ve given us. Help us care for them with grace instead of from disappointment or punishment. Amen.

Want to follow the whole journey? I’m keeping every weekly update together in 40 Days Toward Sugar Freedom.