One Day at a Time

One Day at a Time: A Softer Way Through the Season

This time of year carries a certain pressure, doesn’t it? Just the other evening, I was completely absorbed as the Rockefeller Tree lit up the sky, sparkling, perfect, and full of promise. It’s the beginning of December, and I imagined myself gliding through the month with flawless balance: eating well at every gathering, getting in all my workouts, staying calm, feeling my best, and fitting effortlessly into that outfit I thought would still fit.

But life, as it often does, had other plans.

Maybe you’ve been bouncing from holiday party to holiday party, having a wonderful time but noticing you’re not eating the way you “usually do.” Maybe you hoped to exercise more, but between travel, errands, and the hundred little things that pop up this season, it simply didn’t happen. Or maybe you’ve stepped into a new life chapter—perimenopause or menopause—and your body is shifting in ways you didn’t expect. You catch your reflection in a store window and wonder who this somewhat-familiar person is. You try on an outfit you once loved, and it tells a different, uncomfortable story. And then there are the days when your best-laid plans fall apart completely because you’re putting out fires at work, tending to family needs, or simply trying to keep up. The day you thought you’d have becomes something entirely different.

Here’s what we often forget: none of these moments mean you’re doing anything wrong.

They mean you’re human.They mean you’re living a full, evolving, beautifully complicated life. They mean your body is responding to real circumstances, internal, external, emotional, and seasonal.

And more importantly, they mean it’s okay to take things one day at a time.

Not in the passive “oh well” sense, but in a compassionate, grounded, present sense.

One day at a time means letting go of perfection. It means remembering your body is allowed to change. Your routines are allowed to shift. Your energy is allowed to ebb and flow. You are not a machine, you are a dynamic, feeling, responsive person.

It’s okay that you’re eating differently right now. It’s okay that you’re not exercising as much as you hoped. It’s okay that hormones are changing your sleep, your mood, your energy, your clothes. It’s okay that life throws curveballs that reshape your day.

What matters is not how perfectly you stay on track, but how gently you return to yourself.

Tomorrow is another opportunity. The next meal is another opportunity. A five-minute walk is enough. A quiet breath between tasks is enough.Listening to your body is enough. Oftentimes, choosing kindness toward yourself is the most intentional act of health you can offer.

So as you move through this busy, emotional, joy-filled season, remember: the goal is never perfection. The goal is presence, compassion, and flexibility.

One day at a time isn’t a limitation, it’s a gift. A reminder that you don’t have to rush or prove anything. You just have to show up honestly and fully in the day you’re in.

If you’d like support navigating these shifts, I’m here for you. Let’s walk through this season together. I’m available for individual sessions. You can reach me rachel@livehealthynyc.com. 


Marathon December 2025

There’s something about the month of December that feels like the final leg of a marathon. Not the beginning, where the excitement is fresh, the energy high, and the pace easy. But that last grueling stretch where the cheering crowds are louder, expectations are heavier, and every step requires just a little more intention.

This “marathon” didn’t start on December 1st. It really began sometime in early September, right after Labor Day. You know, when pumpkin-themed everything made its first appearance. In what felt like three blinks, Halloween aisles and pumpkin spice lattes gave way to Thanksgiving chocolate turkeys, only to be replaced by Christmas trees, menorahs, garland, and everything flavored peppermint. And alongside the décor came planning: Who’s hosting? Who’s cooking? Where are we going? What are we buying? It’s a lot!

And so now as December rolls in, there’s often a part of me (and maybe you too?) whispering:

I’m tired. I need a breath. When can I slow down?

But in a season defined by pace, shopping, wrapping, cooking, traveling, and gathering, there does not seem to be real time for slowing down. 

Yet, this is exactly the invitation December offers when we choose to see it differently: not as a finish line we must cross with perfection, but as a moment to be present for ourselves.

Intuitive living, much like intuitive eating, isn’t about rules or restrictions. It’s about awareness. It’s about checking in rather than checking out.

So here’s what I am proposing for a gentle practice this month:
Before you say yes, pause.
Before you rush, breathe.
Before you eat, ask: What am I truly needing right now? Hunger, comfort, connection, rest?

Ok, let’s talk about the food you will eat this month. Some meals nourish the body. Some nourish nostalgia. Some connect us to family, memory, culture, and tradition. None of these are wrong. All of them matter. You do not need to earn your holiday meals. You do not need to compensate for cookies with cardio. You do not need to track, measure, restrict, or apologize. Instead, try asking: Does this food bring me joy? Does it satisfy me? Am I eating with presence or pressure?

And let’s talk about your mental health this month. It requires boundaries, not barriers, but gentle guardrails. Rest when you’re tired. Leave when you’re overwhelmed. Say no when something doesn’t align. Offer yourself the grace you so freely give others. And perhaps most importantly: allow the moments of magic, because small ones count lke the soft blanket that rests on my couch. A quiet morning before the days get going. A steaming mug of something you love. The music that makes you smile. These are not extras. These are anchors. 

This December, instead of sprinting toward the end of the year, consider walking, slowly, intentionally, and with deep breaths and softer expectations.

You deserve to arrive in the new year not depleted, but grounded.

And if you need guidance with intuitive eating, mindful living, or navigating this season with more compassion and less overwhelm, I’m here.

Reach out anytime, your well-being matters! If you’d like support in deepening this work—connecting food, feelings, and self-trust, I’m available for individual sessions. You can reach me rachel@livehealthynyc.com. Together, we can help you rediscover peace with eating and with yourself.




Thanksgiving 2025

Read this before Thanksgiving dinner.

 A Thanksgiving Worth Savoring 

Every year, as Thanksgiving approaches, I find myself preparing not just a menu… but a gathering.

My kitchen turns into the unofficial town square: music on, dishtowels everywhere, and at least three conversations happening at once. Someone is chopping veggies. Someone else is “just checking” something by taste-testing it. And without fail someone asks, “So… what’s for lunch?”

It’s chaotic. It’s imperfect. It’s predictable.
And it’s home.

I truly love hosting. One year we went away and it just wasn’t the same. I love having family, friends, and the occasional last-minute guest. I love cooking together, honoring traditions, and laughing about the things that go wrong — like the year the power went out the night before Thanksgiving, or the year we forgot ice cream for the pies, or the time someone said, “Wait… we need more cornbread?”

But beneath the noise, the chopping, and the shared stories, Thanksgiving invites me into a quieter practice too:

Awareness.

Not the diet-culture “holiday survival” kind.  Not the “avoid overeating!” posts taking over the internet.

Instead — what I like to call:

Intuitive awareness.

Before the doorbell rings, before the table is set, before the house fills, I pause and ask myself:

(Do I need drugs? Kidding. Mostly.)
But really:

How am I arriving to this day?

Hungry? Excited? Tired? A little emotional? (Holidays have a way of stirring memories.)

Whatever comes up, know that it belongs.
Because intuitive eating isn’t about control.
It’s about connection.To our bodies. To our needs. To the moment unfolding in front of us.

When we finally sit down to eat, that awareness comes with us.

Maybe we begin with the food that feels nostalgic.  Maybe we skip a dish we don’t actually enjoy, even if it’s “tradition.” Maybe we take seconds because the sweet potatoes with mini marshmallows taste like childhood.Maybe we pause because our body says enough. Or maybe we start with dessert first (fully supported!)

None of these choices are right or wrong. They’re simply honest.

And in a holiday centered around gratitude, honesty with ourselves might be one of the truest forms of it.

So this year, I hope your Thanksgiving feels nourishing and not because of what you eat (or don’t eat), but because of how present you feel with yourself and the people you love. May your plate hold foods you genuinely enjoy. May your heart be full. And may the imperfections (the burnt edges, the mismatched dishes, the lukewarm veggies, and the loud laughter)  remind you: Perfection isn’t the goal. Presence is.

With love and gratitude,
🧡 Rachel


Eating with your Whole Self

Who Is Eating? A New Way to Understand Food, Feelings, and Ourselves

I was at a beautiful lunch surrounded by family and friends when I noticed a familiar feeling rising in me, that of feeling “unsettled”. Everyone was eagerly plating their food, chatting, and eating as if they hadn’t eaten in days. “I’m starved!” one person said, and another quickly agreed, “OMG, me too!

At that moment, I heard my late grandmother’s voice in my head, saying to “slow down.” She was right. Amidst the clatter of plates and conversation, I could feel my own reaction building. Someone noticed I hadn’t started eating yet and said, “You’re not eating? You have such discipline!” I smiled and replied, “No, I’m going to make a plate—but I need a moment.” I wanted to take in the beauty of the spread, to pause long enough to sense what I actually felt like eating.

That moment reminded me of how much of our eating culture is shaped by speed, control, and compliance. There’s an old mindset that says “eating well” is about willpower. For so long, we’ve equated discipline with success, as though the more control we have, the better we’re doing. But what if eating well isn’t about control at all? What if it’s about listening instead?

When I sit with clients, I often hear questions like, “What should I eat?” or “Why can’t I just have more willpower?” These are common and understandable questions, shaped by years of cultural conditioning. I have started to ask: “Who is eating?”

This shift, from focusing on the food to focusing on the eater, opens the door to compassion. It helps us recognize that we are made up of many parts. There’s the tired part, the lonely part, the anxious part, the joyful part. Each one has its own story and needs. When we eat without awareness, one of these parts often takes charge, trying to comfort or protect us. Later, we may feel regret or confusion. But that moment of eating wasn’t about failure, it was about trying to meet an unmet need.

You’re not broken, and you don’t have a willpower problem. You have parts of yourself doing their best to help you cope. The part that reaches for comfort food isn’t “bad”; it’s asking for care.

This is where intuitive eating and emotional regulation come together. Intuitive eating invites us to pause, notice what’s happening inside, and respond with kindness. Am I hungry for food or for rest? For sweetness or for comfort? Sometimes for me the answer might be a plate of cheesy eggs and mashed potatoes (it’s my go-to comforting meal). Other times, it might be a nap, a walk, or a moment of stillness.

Learning to eat intuitively isn’t about perfection. It's about rebuilding trust with your body and emotions. When you stop fighting your impulses and start understanding them, eating becomes less about control and more about connection. So next time you ask, “What should I eat?” try asking, “Who is eating?” The answer may reveal not just what your body needs, but what your heart is longing for.  If you’d like support in deepening this work—connecting food, feelings, and self-trust, I’m available for individual sessions. You can reach me rachel@livehealthynyc.com. Together, we can help you rediscover peace with eating and with yourself.


The Art of Doing Nothing: Rest as an Act of Intuition

The Art of Doing Nothing: Rest as an Act of Intuition

It was the weekend, and I caught myself thinking, “I didn’t do a thing.” Two full days had passed, and the only tangible evidence of my productivity was a few loads of laundry, a workout at the gym, and a trip to the cobbler to repair a pair of shoes. My first instinct was to feel disappointed, as if not having a neatly checked-off to-do list meant I had somehow wasted 48 hours.

But then I paused. Isn’t that what a weekend is supposed to be about? A break from the constant motion of the week? A time to rest, reset, and reconnect with ourselves?

We live in a culture that celebrates busyness. Where productivity is equated with value and rest often feels like something we have to earn. We measure our days by how much we do rather than how we feel. Yet, when we’re constantly in motion, we lose touch with the quiet voice inside us. You know the one that gently guides us toward what we truly need, whether that’s a nap, a homemade meal, or a simple moment to breathe.

That voice is at the heart of intuitive eating, and, more broadly, intuitive living. It’s the wisdom within us that asks us to listen to our bodies and honor their cues. Just as intuitive eating invites us to eat when we’re hungry and stop when we’re full, intuitive living invites us to rest when we’re tired, to move when we have energy, and to create space for stillness when our minds feel cluttered.

When we’re caught up in the cycle of doing, it’s easy to ignore these signals. We might rush through lunch or skip it altogether because there’s “too much to do,” or push through exhaustion because slowing down feels unproductive. But intuition doesn’t thrive in chaos, it needs room. It needs mental, emotional, and physical space to be heard.

That weekend, when I finally let go of the guilt and gave myself permission to “do nothing,” something shifted. I began to feel calm. I lingered over my morning coffee, read the newspaper, wandered through the park, and allowed the quiet moments to be enough.

I was reminded that rest isn’t the opposite of productivity, it’s part of it. Just as a nourishing meal replenishes the body, true rest restores the mind and spirit. When we pause, we make space for clarity, creativity, and self-connection to emerge.

Now, I invite you to take a moment to ask yourself: When was the last time you allowed yourself to rest without guilt? How do you know when your body or mind is asking for a pause? What might “doing nothing” look like for you this week?

And remember, rest is not wasted time — it’s a return to yourself.

If you’ve been feeling disconnected or struggling to find balance, I’d love to support you. Reach out to schedule an individual session at rachel@livehealthynyc.com and together we can explore ways to bring more intuitive awareness and ease into your daily life.


Starting off on the Right Foot

Beginning the Day with Intention

The other morning, at 6:30 a.m., my daughter was getting ready for work when she said, “I can’t remember if I just took my allergy medicine.” I smiled knowingly. I’ve had those mornings too, when my head is already spinning before the day has even begun. There’s something about early morning busyness that can set us off on the wrong foot. You know, when your body is not even really awake, and your mind is already halfway down the to-do list.

I used to start my mornings that way too, moving on autopilot, reacting before really arriving in the day. But over time, I’ve learned that how I begin my morning shapes how I move through the hours that follow. So I made a small but meaningful change: I started getting up an hour earlier than I needed to. This quiet time allows me to ease into the day instead of rushing through it. And while my husband can’t quite understand why I’m up so early, this bit of “me time” has been life-changing.

Here’s how my mornings look now. My eyes open slowly. The old habit is to reach for my phone. You know, to scroll, check messages, and connect before I’ve even connected to myself. But lately, I’ve been catching myself in that moment. I pause and ask: Do I really want to start my day in conversation with the world before I’ve had a moment with myself?

That’s where my practice begins. Not with perfection, but with awareness.

Wellness, I’ve come to understand, isn’t about strict routines or doing everything “right.” It’s about the small, lived choices that support well-being. For me, that begins the moment I open my eyes. I start by silently saying, “Thank you, eyes, for the gift of sight this morning.” I take a few deep breaths, roll my wrists and ankles, and feel my body awaken. “Thank you, spine,” I think, “for holding me up and keeping me strong.” And then, a quiet prayer of gratitude: Thank you, G-d, for another day.

From there, I move into the day with intention. When I wash my face, I remind myself, “Today, I’m going to rub in the gratefulness of being alive.” In the evenings, before bed, I offer another thank-you to myself for making it through the day and for the safety and health of my family.

This is intuitive living in practice, listening closely to what my mind and body need, moment by moment. Just as intuitive eating teaches us to honor hunger and fullness cues, this morning ritual helps me honor my need for presence and peace before the world asks anything of me.

By slowing down, I start from a place of grounded awareness. And that small shift from rushing to arriving changes everything about how the rest of the day unfolds.

If your mornings have felt a little rushed lately, maybe this is your invitation to slow down — even for a few breaths. Notice what your body needs before the day begins. Feed yourself with gratitude. You might be surprised by how much more ease and presence you carry with you through the hours that follow.

If you’ve been craving a gentler start to your day or want to explore how intuitive practices can bring more calm and connection to your life, I’d love to support you. Reach out to schedule a session at rachel@livehealthynyc.com. Together we can create a routine that feels nourishing, realistic, and deeply aligned with you.


Cravings

✨ Cravings, Comfort, and the Wisdom of Intuitive Eating

It was lunchtime, and I was craving a crunchy salad from the overpriced corner diner in my neighborhood. It’s a splurge I make every once in a while because, honestly, sometimes food just tastes better when someone else prepares it. There’s something about being served, the friendly smile from the waitress, the simple act of being cared for, that feels comforting and deeply satisfying. Comfort food, I’ve realized, isn’t always about the food itself; it’s about the feeling that comes with it.

As I sat there, fork in hand, I started thinking about cravings: how they show up, what they mean, and how often we try to dismiss or outsmart them. For so long, cravings have been framed as something to resist or control. But when we approach eating through the lens of intuition, cravings become something different altogether. They become information, an invitation to listen more closely.

Every craving has a story to tell. Sometimes it’s physical, a signal from the body asking for nourishment or balance. Other times, it’s emotional, a longing for comfort, connection, or even rest. That craving for the salad wasn’t just about greens and vinaigrette. It was about slowing down, taking a pause in my day, and allowing myself to be cared for, even in a small way.

Intuitive eating invites us to approach cravings with curiosity rather than judgment. Instead of asking, “How do I make this craving go away?” try asking, “What is this craving trying to tell me?” Often, what we find beneath the surface has little to do with the food itself. A craving for something sweet might speak to a need for comfort or joy. A craving for something salty or crunchy might reflect stress or the desire to release tension. And sometimes, a craving simply says, “I want this right now.” And that’s reason enough.

The practice of intuitive eating teaches that honoring our cravings helps rebuild trust with our bodies. Over time, the noise of diet rules and food labels, “good,” “bad,” “should,” and “shouldn’t” begins to quiet. And in its place, we come to learn there is a steadier sense of knowing what feels right in the moment.

Take a moment to reflect on a craving you’ve had recently. What might it have been asking for? Nourishment, comfort, a pause, or maybe a bit of connection?

That salad from the diner may have been overpriced, but it was exactly what I wanted. It hit the spot, not just physically, but emotionally too. And with Halloween just around the corner, if a piece of candy stirs memories of childhood, give yourself permission to enjoy it. Unwrap it and trust that honoring your craving is a way of honoring yourself.

If you’ve been feeling disconnected from your cravings or unsure how to trust your body’s cues, I’d love to support you. Reach out to schedule a session with me at rachel@livehealthynyc.com

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Connection

✨ This Week’s Reflection

Nourishment Through Connection

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how connection nourishes us in ways that go far beyond the plate. Sometimes it’s the moments shared with a friend, and sometimes it’s the quiet check-in we offer ourselves. Both matter deeply.

A recent lunch with an old friend reminded me just how fulfilling it can be to share time, conversation, and presence with someone who truly gets you. I know I’ve written about the power of connection before, but it continues to show up in new ways in my life, like a constant reminder of how essential it is to our well-being.

Seeing my friend, we immediately hugged, you know the kind: the two-armed embrace that makes you feel so loved. We sat down to eat, and our conversation flowed easily as we caught up on our joys, our challenges, and everything in between. When the waitress stopped by to ask if we were enjoying our food, we realized we’d barely touched our plates. The connection itself had become the meal. The nourishment was in the exchange of words, the warmth of laughter, and the comfort of being seen and understood.

That afternoon reminded me that our appetites reach far beyond the physical. We often think of hunger as something that happens in our stomachs, but intuitive eating invites us to look through a wider lens andto recognize that we also crave belonging, intimacy, safety, and joy. These are forms of nourishment that sustain us just as deeply as food does.

And yet, connection isn’t only about others. It’s also about the relationship we have with ourselves. When we feel disconnected, it’s easy to reach for something to fill the emptiness, whether that’s food, distraction, or busyness. But sometimes, what we truly need is a moment of stillness. A moment to pause, take a breath, and ask ourselves, “What am I really needing right now?”

That kind of honesty can be deeply nourishing. It helps us reconnect with our own inner rhythms, our emotions, and our needs. It allows us to care for ourselves in ways that are both compassionate and sustainable.

There’s nothing wrong with finding comfort in food. I cherish my matzo ball soup that reminds me of my grandmother, and the chocolate cake that celebrates birthdays. But when we listen to the deeper layers of our hunger, we often discover that what we’re really craving is connection to others, to ourselves, and to something greater that reminds us we belong.

That time with my friend reminded me how full we can feel simply by being with someone, listening, sharing, and being present. There was no rush to finish our plates. We were nourished in a different way.

Connection feeds our spirits. It grounds us, softens us, and helps us feel whole. And when we’re connected, to ourselves and to others, we can approach food and our bodies with greater trust, ease, and compassion.

This week, notice the moments of connection that fill you up: a conversation over coffee, a shared meal, or a few quiet minutes with yourself. These, too, are forms of nourishment.

If you’ve been feeling a bit disconnected lately, whether from your body, your food, or yourself, I’d love to support you. I am a licensed social worker and Intuitive Eating Counselor, and I am passionate about helping women rediscover joy and trust in their relationship with food and body. I offer virtual sessions and share reflections on living with intention, balance, and kindness. Contact me at rachel@livehealthynyc.com


Reflections

I woke up earlier than usual this morning. It was still dark outside my bedroom window. Rather than tossing and turning, I got out of bed, washed my face and brushed my teeth, drank my bottle of water with my daily vitamins and made my coffee. Journaling and sitting in the stillness of the morning, waiting patiently for the sun to rise is a simple pleasure. This morning I started to reflect on how much my relationship with food, and with myself, has shifted over time.

In my “earlier life” (before I began truly working on my relationship with food and my body image), I often thought of eating in terms of rules: what I should or shouldn’t have, how much was “too much,” and whether I’d “earned” something indulgent. Those thoughts were so normalized through diet culture that I hardly noticed them. But now, happily, I find myself drawn to a gentler, more intuitive rhythm.

I have tossed away old narratives about my body, unhelpful habits and outdated beliefs, especially as I have experienced hormonal changes that allow me to be a bit kinder to myself. For me, listening has become a kind of daily practice. Some days, it means noticing when I’m truly hungry versus when I just want to graze. Other days, it’s recognizing that I might need to lay down and rest more than “going going going”. And there are some days I want to walk outside and notice the signs and sounds of nature as it feels better to me than my gym routine. It’s tuning in, even when my body feels unpredictable. This stage of my life feels less like a set of guidelines. I’m realizing that intuitive eating extends far beyond the plate. It’s a philosophy of self-care that honors the whole person.

I am not gonna lie (to you or to myself), that there is also a sense of mourning that can come with these transitions—the letting go of how things used to be. But alongside that loss, there’s a greater desire to reconnect with myself and feel tremendous joy.

When I think about it, this stage feels like a recalibration. It’s not about “getting back” to who I was, but about growing into who I am now with presence, compassion, and respect for the natural seasons of change.

If you’re walking through a similar time, whether it’s menopause, a shift in identity, or another life transition, perhaps this is your reminder to pause, breathe, and listen inward. Your body is still speaking. The language may have changed, but the message remains the same: you are worthy of care, nourishment, and trust.

I’d love to hear from you: how has your relationship with food or your body evolved as you’ve moved through different life stages? I am a licensed social worker and Intuitive Eating Counselor and I am passionate about helping women rediscover joy and trust in their relationship with food and body. I offer virtual sessions and share reflections on living with intention, balance, and kindness. Contact me at rachel@livehealthynyc.com

Choosing Joy

Choosing Joy in Everyday Moments

Today, I had one of those little moments that stopped me in my tracks. I went in to buy a pair of earrings ( I needed another pair of earrings like I needed another hole in my ear!) and the manager who could have easily leaned into sales tactics was refreshingly genuine. He didn’t try to convince me to buy something I didn’t need. He was simply honest, straightforward, and kind.

It wasn’t a dramatic encounter, but I walked away smiling. I was happier with his honesty than with a pair of earrings that I didn’t need or suit me! That small interaction lingered with me the rest of the day, reminding me how good it feels to meet honesty and authenticity in a world that often feels noisy and pressured.

I’ve always thought of myself as a glass-half-full kind of gal, but lately, I’ve been practicing being more intentional about noticing these small wins, the fleeting, ordinary joys. Because life is heavy at times. There’s no denying the tragedies and losses that unfold around us, and I don’t want to dismiss those realities. But I also don’t want them to eclipse the moments of joy that are still here, waiting to be noticed.

That store interaction became my answer to a question I’ve been practicing: “What brings you joy today?”

Some days, the answer is big: a reunion with a childhood friend, a birthday celebration or traveling to a place that you have always dreamed of! Other days, it’s small: buying sunflowers, feeling soothed and relaxed after a warm shower, or making my morning coffee with oat milk that foams just right. Joy doesn’t always have to be loud; sometimes it’s found in the tiniest details.

This question has even shaped the way I approach food and my body. Intuitive eating, at its heart, is about tuning in—to hunger, fullness, satisfaction, and yes, joy. The crunch of a crisp apple, the smell of fresh bread, and the permission I give myself to savor a chocolate cupcake without guilt are often joy-full moments! Food isn’t only physical fuel—it’s emotional nourishment too. When I allow joy to be part of my eating experience, I notice how it helps me build trust with myself and my body.

What’s beautiful is how this question grows with us. In young adulthood, joy might look like late-night pizza with friends, celebrating independence, or trying something new for the first time. In midlife, it might mean slowing down—family meals around the table, honoring traditions, or allowing yourself to lay down on the couch and take a nap, finally listening to what your body needs instead. Our definitions of joy shift with each stage of life, just as our relationship with food and body shifts.

It’s easy, especially in times of change, whether you’re moving into adulthood or navigating the transitions of midlife, to feel untethered. To lose sight of ourselves in the busyness, the expectations, and the noise. But asking “What brings me joy today?” can be a way of re-centering. A reminder that joy is grounding and necessary.

So today, I’m grateful for that store manager who chose honesty over pressure. For the reminder that joy doesn’t need to shout; it often whispers. My hope is to keep noticing those whispers: in food, in relationships, and in the everyday rhythms of life.

And now I’ll turn the question to you: What brought you joy today? As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.

Reset

Resetting Your Mind and Body

I’m willing to bet we’ve all been there—a weekend (or even a single day) of more than usual. A food splurge, a shopping spree, a late night with friends, or a stretch of skipped workouts. In the moment it feels fun and full, but afterward our bodies and minds often remind us that too much of a good thing is not a good thing!

For me, these “binges” feel stronger these days. Hormonal shifts in midlife have a way of amplifying the highs and lows, making me more aware of what my body needs, and what throws it out of balance.

Not long ago, I had one of those weekends. Friday night began with a lovely Shabbat dinner. We poured a little more wine than planned, tore into the challah with extra enthusiasm, and lingered long at the table. Saturday brought dinner with friends, complete with appetizers, a main course, and a dessert platter I couldn’t resist. We stayed up too late, and by Sunday morning, I woke up feeling puffy, sluggish, and heavy in my body.

Years ago, that Sunday would have looked very different. My old instinct was to “punish” myself for “overdoing it.” I’d set strict rules: no sweets for a time, only salads, longer workouts at the gym. At the time I thought I was being disciplined, but really, I was layering guilt and shame onto an already tired body.

Now, things look different. Menopause has taught me that my body doesn’t bounce back quite as quickly, and surprisingly, I found a gift in this. It has forced me to slow down, to listen, to realize that recovery isn’t about undoing what I ate or drank. It’s about responding with care. Too much sugar leaves me foggy, late nights unravel my sleep for days, and skipping movement shows up in my mood as much as my muscles. None of this means I’ve failed. It just means my body is speaking up.

That particular Sunday, I tried something new. I made my coffee, layed on my couch, and gave myself permission to move slowly. I noticed I wasn’t hungry right away, so I waited until mid-morning to make breakfast. Later, I went for a walk, not to “burn off” the challah or the chocolate brownie, but to breathe, stretch, and remind my body that I was listening. By the afternoon, I felt steadier. Not 100%, but closer to myself.

These days, this is what resetting means to me. It’s not about restriction or payback. It’s about asking: What do I need right now to feel more like myself? Sometimes the answer is an outdoor walk, a crisp salad, a simple meal of  eggs and toast, and by the end of the evening, an early bedtime. 

What I’ve learned is that gentle resets are far more powerful than harsh rules. They rebuild trust with myself, with my body, with the process of living in a rhythm that honors my mind and body. I’d love to know—when you’ve had your own version of “too much,” how do you bring yourself back into balance? As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.



The Power of Being Direct

The Power of Being Direct—With Others and With Ourselves

I was talking with a friend recently about a project she had just wrapped up at work. She had poured weeks of energy into it—staying late, troubleshooting problems, and stepping in to help others when things got stressful. By the time it wrapped up, she was exhausted but also proud of what she had accomplished. What she really wanted was acknowledgment, a simple “thank you” or recognition for the ways she went above and beyond her role.

But here’s the part she struggled with: being direct enough to ask for that acknowledgment. Instead of voicing her need, she found herself waiting, hoping her coworkers would notice and speak up. When they didn’t, she felt frustrated and unseen.

That conversation stayed with me. It reminded me of how many of us find directness uncomfortable. Not the kind of directness that cuts people off or bulldozes through nuance, but the honest, grounded kind. The kind that says: Here is what I need. Here is what I want. Here is what feels right for me.

For many of us, that kind of honesty feels risky. We’ve been taught to soften our words, to pad our requests, to wait and see what others want before daring to express our own needs. We fear that being direct will make us come across as demanding, selfish, or “too much.” But I’m learning that directness—when it comes from a place of clarity and respect—isn’t selfish at all. It’s actually a gift.

Directness removes the guessing game. It clears the air. It allows for authentic connection. Without it, so much gets lost in the silence—resentment builds, misunderstandings multiply, and we end up feeling distant from one another when what we truly crave is closeness.

And here’s where it beautifully connects with intuitive eating.

When we practice intuitive eating, we are invited to be direct with ourselves. To tune in, notice what’s happening in our bodies, and name it plainly. Am I hungry? Am I full? Do I want something crunchy and salty, or soft and sweet? Do I need a full meal or just a little snack?

There’s no dancing around it. No “I should be hungry by now” or “I should pick the salad because it’s healthier.” Instead, there’s a clear, honest response: This is what my body is asking for right now.

It sounds simple, but this kind of honesty with ourselves can feel surprisingly vulnerable. Sometimes what we want surprises us. Sometimes it doesn’t match what others expect—or even what we expect of ourselves. Maybe you crave cereal for dinner when everyone else is having pasta. Maybe you’re simply not hungry at noon when the rest of the office is pulling out lunches. Directness in those moments means honoring what’s true for you, even when it doesn’t line up with the script.

Being direct with ourselves is also an act of trust. It’s saying: I trust my body to know. I trust myself enough to listen. And when we carry that kind of directness into our relationships, it becomes: I trust you enough to tell you the truth.

I think the two are deeply intertwined. If I can’t be direct with myself—naming my hunger, my needs, my boundaries—it’s much harder to be direct with others. But the more I practice honesty inwardly, the more natural it becomes to practice honesty outwardly.

Of course, directness doesn’t mean rigidity. Just like intuitive eating isn’t about perfection, directness isn’t about always knowing exactly what we need right away. Sometimes clarity takes time. Directness is simply about speaking plainly once we do.

In a world that often asks us to perform, please, or fit in, directness can feel radical. Yet it is also deeply human. Whether it’s choosing what to eat or choosing how to speak, being direct is a way of saying: I matter. My needs matter. My truth matters.

I’m curious—how does being direct show up in your own life? Do you notice a connection between speaking your truth and listening to your body? I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences. As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.


Permission to Pause

Permission to Pause: A Wednesday in the Mess

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and my day felt like a juggling act that had gone a little sideways. I had a few loads of laundry to do. My phone kept buzzing with reminders: pick up something for dinner, confirm an appointment, reply to a friend who had left me a voicemail. A work project sat open on my laptop, but every time I typed a sentence, I’d remember something else I was supposed to be doing.



And to be fair, none of it was dramatic. Just the ordinary stuff of life piling up in the middle of a week.



At some point, I caught myself moving from task to task without really finishing anything. I’d open the fridge, close it, shuffle a pile of mail from one counter to another, check my email, and then immediately forget what I was looking at. That hamster-wheel kind of busyness where you’re expending a lot of energy but not actually getting anywhere.



That’s when I did something that felt almost rebellious: I went for a walk and sat down on a park bench. With nothing in my hands, just a bottle of water.



Of course, the guilt showed up right on time. Really? You’re just sitting here? It’s Wednesday afternoon. People are working, errands aren’t done, and you’re sitting in the park? The voice was sharp, insistent, and familiar.



But here’s the truth: I was tired. Not collapse-into-bed tired, but the kind of tired where your brain feels foggy, where even simple tasks feel heavier than they should. I realized I could keep pushing through, but the quality of whatever I did next would probably suffer. So I stayed put, even as that guilty voice chattered on.



And you know what? Sitting outside in the fresh air, I started to breathe a little deeper. My shoulders dropped. The frantic energy slowed. It wasn’t glamorous. I didn’t suddenly feel serene or enlightened. But I felt steadier.



We don’t talk much about this kind of rest, the ordinary, unpolished pauses in the middle of chaos. It’s easier to romanticize downtime when it looks like a quiet weekend away or a cozy retreat. But most of us don’t get that kind of rest on a Wednesday. What we get are stolen moments: five minutes on the couch, an extra lap around the block, letting ourselves put the phone on silent for half an hour.



I’m learning those messy pauses matter too. They remind me I don’t have to earn rest by finishing everything first. They remind me that downtime doesn’t cancel my responsibilities, it actually helps me return to them with more clarity.



So yes, the laundry is still waiting to get washed. The emails still needed answers. Dinner ended up being grilled cheese and salad, and it was more than fine. But after that pause, I had enough energy to tackle one thing at a time instead of spinning in circles.



Sometimes, “doing nothing” in the middle of the week is exactly the something we need most.



What about you? Do you ever just stop in the middle of a busy day, even when the to-do list is screaming at you? I’d love to hear the little ways you carve out downtime. Is it messy, imperfect, or otherwise. As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.



Addiction and Intuitive Eating

I still remember sitting in my college dorm room with a giant bag of peanut M&M’s perched on my desk. I had told myself I’d only eat a handful while I studied, but before I knew it, my hand kept reaching back into the bag. You know how it goes, over and over until I’d eaten most of it without really noticing until it was too late! I can recall the familiar mix of satisfaction and shame that washed over me! Ugh! 

At times, that feeling has followed me into adulthood in different ways. Most recently, it showed up in the form of those heart-shaped marshmellows from a nearby candy store. I don’t even really eat candy except I bought them on a whim. I found myself sneaking into the bowl to grab a few more, and then a few more again. It wasn’t like I was even especially hungry or even craving them. But, there was something about the texture, taste and sweet smell that pulled me toward them.If I’m honest, it felt a little like being addicted.

For years, I believed that was the truth: that certain foods had a kind of power over me. M&M’s, twizlers, crunchy granola. I’d laugh to myself that I couldn’t be trusted around them. Diet culture reinforced that story, too. If I couldn’t “control” myself, it must mean those foods were dangerous and needed to be “off limits”. So I’d swing between two extremes: total avoidance (keeping them out of the house) or all-out indulgence. 

I knew that this wasn’t “healthy” and it wasn’t until I started practicing intuitive eating that I began to see things differently. What I had labeled as “addiction” was really deprivation in disguise. When foods are restricted—whether physically (not allowing myself to eat them) or mentally (telling myself I “shouldn’t” eat them)—they become louder, shinier, more urgent. It’s not addiction, it’s survival. My body and brain were trying to protect me from scarcity.

When I started allowing those foods without conditions, things slowly shifted. At first, I was skeptical. If I gave myself permission to eat M&M’s or heart gummies whenever I wanted, wouldn’t I just live on candy? But with time, the urgency began to soften. Knowing I could have them tomorrow, or the next day, meant I didn’t have to eat them all right now. Sometimes I still wanted a handful, and sometimes I didn’t. The food stopped feeling so powerful. And that felt good!

These days, when I notice that magnetic pull toward certain foods, I try to pause and ask myself: What’s really going on here? Sometimes it’s simple hunger. Sometimes it’s stress, fatigue, or the need for comfort. And sometimes it’s just that the candy is delicious and I genuinely want it. And that’s okay, too.

What I’ve learned is that I’m not actually addicted to food. I’m human. I’m learning to trust myself. And little by little, those once “forbidden” foods are just foods again—sweet, crunchy, chewy reminders that no single bite can define me.

But that’s my story. What about you? Have you ever felt that pull toward certain foods—the kind that makes you think, I can’t trust myself around this? How did it feel for you? I’d love to hear your stories, whether it’s about candy, chips, bread, or anything else. Share them with me—I promise, you’re not alone. As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.






Another Family Remedy: Tea and Toast

Another Family Remedy: The Tea and Toast Trick

Oh, I am so excited at how the conversations keep growing! After I wrote about my friend’s grandmother and her “olive and an hour” remedy, several of you reached out with your own family wisdom. Each note felt like a reminder that food is never just about nutrients—it’s about connection and care.

One message stood out in particular. A reader wrote to tell me about her father’s favorite “reset” for days when food just didn’t feel appealing: tea and toast. That’s it. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated, just a slice of warm toast with a little butter or jam, and a cup of tea.

Her dad had said that it wasn't meant to be a full meal, and it certainly wasn’t about nutrition labels or food rules. Her dad’s reasoning was simple: toast is comforting, tea is soothing, and together they almost always help bring the appetite back online. It was his “go-to” whenever someone in the house felt “off”, not sick, exactly, but not fully themselves either. It was the kind of meal that said, You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just be here now.

I loved this story because it captures something so true about intuitive eating: sometimes, the goal isn’t to get it “just right.” Sometimes, the goal is simply to take one small step back toward nourishment. Tea and toast won’t solve every off day, but it’s a gentle way of saying, I hear you, body. Let’s start small.

It also reminded me that comfort food has a place in intuitive eating. For so long, diet culture has painted comfort foods as indulgent or “bad.” But here’s the reality: comfort is part of nourishment. Sometimes what we need isn’t the “perfectly balanced plate” but the warmth of something familiar.

I’ve tried the tea and toast trick myself since hearing about it, and I have to say—it works. It doesn’t magically tell me what my next meal should be, but it shifts me from feeling stuck to feeling comforted.

These little family remedies—whether it’s olives, tea and toast, or whatever quirky tradition your family has—aren’t meant to be rules. They’re tools, ways to reconnect when the path feels a little fuzzy. They remind us that eating doesn’t have to be all-or-nothing.

So if you find yourself in that space where nothing sounds quite right, maybe give tea and toast a try. Or pull out your own family’s version of a “reset food.” Let it remind you that sometimes, the smallest step can be the most powerful one.

And of course, I’d love to keep hearing from you. Do you have another remedy tucked away in your family’s kitchen wisdom? Share it with me—I have a feeling this collection of stories is just beginning. As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.


“Family Remedies and Intuitive Eating: Finding Clarity in the Pause”

One of my favorite parts of writing this blog is hearing from you, whether it’s through an email, a quick message, or even a phone call. I love hearing how my words connect with your own experiences. It always reminds me that these conversations about food, body, and self are truly shared journeys.

Just the other day, a friend called after reading my post “When Your Mind and Body Feel Out of Sync: Navigating Intuitive Eating on ‘Off’ Days.” She wanted to tell me about a little piece of wisdom passed down in her family. Her grandmother’s advice was simple: “If you’re hungry but don’t know what you want, open the fridge, eat an olive, and wait an hour. By then, you’ll know what you’re craving.” She swore it worked every time! I loved the simplicity of that gentle pause.

What struck me most about her story wasn’t just the olive (though I admit, it made me want to go out and buy a jar immediately), but the underlying wisdom. It was a reminder that sometimes the best remedies are the simplest ones. When we feel disconnected from our appetite, when our body says, “feed me,” but our mind shrugs and says, “I don’t know what I want”, it can be frustrating. We live in a world where eating is often rushed, distracted, or influenced by external rules, so finding ourselves in that pause of “not knowing” can feel uncomfortable.

But here’s where her grandmother’s advice shines: it encourages curiosity without pressure. Eat something small, give your body a moment, and trust that clarity will come. That’s essentially what intuitive eating is about: creating enough space to listen in, instead of forcing a quick fix.

I think so many of us have family remedies like this. It is these little pearls of wisdom passed down from mothers, grandmothers, or friends. They may not be written in a nutrition textbook, but they carry their own kind of nourishment. They connect us not just to food, but to memory, heritage, and the people who cared for us.

For me, that call was also a reminder that intuitive eating doesn’t always have to be complicated. It’s not about getting it “perfect.” Sometimes it’s as simple as an olive and an hour. Sometimes it’s a piece of fruit while you wait for your true hunger to speak more clearly. Sometimes it’s even letting yourself admit, “I don’t know what I feel like yet, but I’ll figure it out.” That kind of permission can be so freeing.

So next time you find yourself staring into the fridge with that fuzzy feeling of blah, not quite sure what your body wants, maybe try the olive trick. Or your own version of it. And more importantly, remember that you’re not alone in those moments. We’re all learning, pausing, and listening together. And sometimes, it’s those very pauses that bring the sweetest clarity.

I’d love to hear from you. Do you have a family food remedy, a quirky little tip, or a tradition that helps guide you back to your body? Share it with me! Your stories inspire not only me, but also this whole community of readers walking the path of intuitive eating right alongside you. As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.


When Your Mind and Body Feel Out of Sync: Navigating Intuitive Eating on “Off” Days

She wasn’t feeling like eating. Not in the “I’m so full from brunch” kind of way but more like her mind had quietly shut off her appetite. The spark just wasn’t there. She felt… blah. That much she had connected.

But here’s the tricky part: she knew she needed to eat. Her logical brain was fully aware it had been hours since her last meal. In fact, she hadn’t eaten a single bite since dinner the night before, and now it was well past lunch. She had even gone to the store earlier and picked up some of her favorite foods, things that usually make her mouth water. And yet, the interest just… wasn’t there.

“Eat when you’re hungry,” the intuitive eating books and podcasts say. It sounds so simple. But what happens when you’re not hungry… and you still need to eat? When your mind and body feel connected enough to notice something’s off, but not connected enough to give you a clear answer?

This is where intuitive eating gets real.

We like to think of intuitive eating as a smooth, flowing dance between mind and body. A kind of conversation where hunger and fullness cues are crisp and clear. But sometimes, the lines get fuzzy. Stress, hormones, sleep deprivation, grief, anxiety, or just an “off” day can cloud those signals. The dots are there. You know you haven’t eaten, you know your body needs fuel, but the dots aren’t connecting in a way that leads to “I feel hungry, so I’ll eat now.”

Here’s the truth: intuitive eating isn’t just about chasing hunger cues. It’s also about caring for your body, even when those cues are quiet. Sometimes that means making the decision to eat simply because you know you’ll feel better if you do, even if you’re not craving anything specific.

So what do you do on days like this?

  1. Start small. You don’t need a full, elaborate meal right away. Try something gentle on your stomach, like a piece of toast with nut butter, yogurt with berries, a smoothie, or a handful of crackers and cheese.

  2. Choose familiar comfort foods. On low-appetite days, familiarity can be more inviting than novelty. Pick foods you associate with warmth, care, and ease rather than excitement or indulgence.

  3. Remove the pressure. You’re not failing at intuitive eating because you’re not hungry. You’re practicing it by listening to your body’s overall needs, not just one signal.

  4. Stay curious. Instead of frustration, approach it with curiosity: What might be dimming my appetite today? Am I tired? Anxious? Distracted? Simply asking can help bridge the mind-body gap.

Intuitive eating is about self-trust, but trust isn’t built only in the easy moments when everything clicks. It’s built in the messy moments too, the days when you eat because you care for yourself, not because you’re “hungry enough.”

Because sometimes, the most intuitive thing you can do… is simply take care of yourself. As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.

Healthy Living at the Farmers Market

From Chips to Cherry Tomatoes: Finding Blance at Every Stage of Life

My mother has always eaten chips with her sandwiches—never with a salad. She calls them “chippies” with such affection you might think they’re health food. Apparently, it runs in the family, because my son and daughter do the exact same thing.

I try not to cringe as they crunch away. Outwardly, I’m calm; inwardly, I’m screaming, “Don’t you see how bad this is? It’s processed junk!” I “subtly” place a plate of freshly cut carrots, cucumbers, and cherry tomatoes nearby, hoping they’ll reach for the rainbow instead of the ruffles. Sometimes it works. Sometimes… not so much. And I remind myself—a little junk won’t ruin them. Balance is the goal, not perfection.

Over time, I’ve learned my best “food persuasion” moments aren’t about lecturing but modeling. One of the ways I model a healthier, healing approach to eating is by shopping at local farmers markets.

There’s something magical about walking through one. Summer offers heirloom tomatoes in every shade of red and yellow, cucumbers that smell like the field, baskets of berries so sweet they barely make it home, and golden ears of corn. Fall brings crisp apples, hearty squash, and broccoli still on the stalk.

When my kids were younger, if they helped choose the food, they naturally ate more of it—no coaxing needed. Now that they’re older, they automatically cook with the fresh fruits and vegetables they’ve picked out themselves (I like to think my long game here made a difference!). 

Beyond flavor, farmers market produce supports the body through every stage of life:

  • Young adulthood: Still building bone density and muscle mass, the body thrives on the vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants fresh produce provides for strong immunity and steady energy.

  • Midlife: Hormonal shifts can affect metabolism, digestion, and mood. Seasonal produce offers fiber for gut health, phytonutrients for cell repair, and flavors that help you reconnect with food in a joyful way.

  • Menopause and beyond: Nutrient-rich fruits and vegetables can support heart health, reduce inflammation, preserve muscle, and help stabilize mood.

Farmers markets also encourage intuitive eating—making food choices from curiosity and pleasure rather than rules. Instead of thinking, “I should eat more vegetables because they’re good for me,” you might think, “I want that peach because it smells like sunshine.” That’s when healthy habits stick—when they’re rooted in enjoyment, not obligation.

If you’re inspired to explore, you can find local markets almost anywhere both in the US and abroad. Just google local farmers markets near me. 

So yes, chips still make appearances at our table. But now they often sit alongside a bowl of fresh local produce. And that feels like a balance I can live with . As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.

Sunlight

Sunlight, Sanity, and Sandwiches: How the Outdoors Supports Intuitive Eating

To say that it’s been a hot summer is an understatement! Across the U.S. temperatures have been unusually intense, day after day. Some afternoons, the air feels more like soup than something we’re meant to breathe. I’ve spent more time than I’d like to admit hiding out in my living room, curtains drawn, A/C humming, and cold drink in hand. Honestly, it’s been kind of nice in that cocooned, sleepy way…until it wasn’t.

After a few too many days in a row, I noticed something: I felt off. Not physically sick, but emotionally sluggish. I even caught myself mindlessly munching more than usual—not out of hunger, but out of a strange sort of restlessness.

Sure, I had gotten outside to run errands but not enough to feel like I was “in nature”. And it got me thinking: maybe the lack of fresh air and sunlight had more to do with my mood (and even my eating) than I realized. 

Sunlight isn’t just about warmth or a tan. It plays a big role in our mental well-being. Exposure to natural light, especially in the morning. Sunlight helps regulate our circadian rhythm and boosts serotonin, which supports better mood, clearer thinking, and even steadier energy. All of which, by the way, are deeply connected to how we eat.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned through intuitive eating is that food is never just about food. Often, when I feel ungrounded, I start reaching for snacks not because I’m physically hungry, but because I’m looking for comfort or distraction. There’s nothing wrong with emotional eating—it’s part of being human—but tuning into why we’re reaching for something can be a powerful form of self-awareness.

And nature, especially sunlight, can help bring us back to that awareness.

I’ve noticed a real difference on the days I make space to step outside, even briefly. Just 10–15 minutes of fresh air and sunlight makes it easier to check in with myself. Infact, I’m more connected to myself. 

Nature supports our ability to nourish ourselves—not through control or willpower, but through reconnection. Try stepping outside with your coffee tomorrow morning. Or a morning walk before the temperatures rise or even later in the day at dusk when the heat calms down. Let yourself just be—no agenda, no guilt. Your body, your mind, your appetite... they just might thank you.


Healing Bad Body Image Moments

Healing Bad Body Image Moments: A Compassionate Relationship with Your Body

Have you ever really stopped to think about your relationship with your body. I am not referring to just how it looks, but how you relate to it? I once heard that our relationship with our body is the longest one we’ll ever have. Longer than any friendship, marriage, job, or home. 

I don’t know about you, but I speak to my body constantly! I hate to admit it, but I find myself criticizing, ignoring, and sometimes even shaming my body. But what if I (we) treated our body more like a relationship we value and nurture? One with space for dialogue, forgiveness, and mutual respect? What if we started to speak to our bodies with support and pride?

Not living under a rock, we have done some unlearning around diet culture and even to some extent embraced body positivity. But that doesn’t mean we’re immune to tough moments. They sneak up on us—trying on clothes that suddenly don’t fit quite right, catching our reflection on a day we’re already feeling vulnerable, scrolling through perfectly filtered images on social media. That inner critic? She can be loud.

I still have days when I struggle. Days when clothes feel off or I catch my reflection and the critique kicks in fast. And in those moments, I’ve started asking myself a different kind of question: What’s really going on here?

Because often, the issue isn’t my body at all. It’s something deeper. Feelings of stress, being overwhelmed, insecurity, or just feeling disconnected. When I take a moment to get curious instead of critical, everything shifts. That simple pause, that moment of checking in, is an act of care.

Here’s a practice I have been working towards often: instead of diving into self-criticism, I start an internal conversation. “I’m noticing I’m feeling off in my body today. What else might be happening? What do I really need right now?” This inquiry may not “fix” the moment, but it builds trust. It reminds me I can come back to myself with kindness, again and again.

So what do I “do”? Sometimes for me, the answer is movement. I will go for a walk, or go to the gym or or even lying on the floor and taking in breaths. This is not to change how I look, but to reconnect. Other times, creativity brings me back—writing, reading, cooking, a phone call to a friend.

Bad moments will still come, but they don’t define your whole story. You are allowed to repair. You are allowed to come back to yourself. And over time, you might just discover a relationship with your body that feels like home.

As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.