Smile

It's been brutally cold here in NYC. As I was walking down the street, my face cold and my legs feeling numb, earbuds in, half-listening to a podcast, I passed a doorman, I looked up and said, “Good morning.” He lit up and boomed back, “Good morning to you too! And have a lovely day!”

It was such a small moment, but it completely shifted my mood. Suddenly, I had a bounce in my step. For a few blocks, I felt lighter, warmer, almost forgetting that the temperature was below normal.

It reminded me how powerful tiny gestures can be.

A smile can feel insignificant, almost silly, but it carries quite an influence. It can soften a tense moment, lift your mood, or make a gray day feel a little less heavy. It doesn’t require effort, perfection, or the “right” mindset. It’s readily available.

We often assume we smile because we feel good. But sometimes, smiling is what creates the good feeling. Even a brief smile can send a signal to the nervous system that things are okay. The jaw unclenches. The breath deepens. The shoulders drop. The body softens, just a little.

Smiles ripple outward to the barista, the stranger on the bus, the person across the dinner table. They say, I see you. In a city that moves fast and asks a lot, that small warmth can feel surprisingly grounding.

So what does this have to do with intuitive eating? More than you might expect.

Intuitive eating asks us to listen inward to hunger, fullness, satisfaction, and emotion, without judgment. But listening is hard when we’re tense, rushed, or stuck in self-criticism. Smiling, especially at ourselves, can be a soft reset.

Imagine approaching food with a clenched jaw and an inner critic running commentary. Now imagine approaching the same meal with a softer face, a calmer breath, and even a small smile.

When we soften, our faces, our posture, our expectations, it becomes easier to ask: What do I actually need right now? Not what we should eat. But what might feel satisfying and nourishing in this moment.

A smile won’t undo years of diet culture or body distrust. But it can be a starting point. A small reminder that care doesn’t have to be harsh to be effective. And if softening around food, your body, or yourself feels harder than it sounds, you don’t have to do it alone. If you’re curious about intuitive eating, support or therapy, I’m here, and I’d love to be part of that conversation. Feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com

Snow Days

Snow Days Are Quietly Exhausting

I am finally sitting down (actually laying down on my couch) exhausted, and it’s 5:30 pm on a Sunday evening. Today was a “snow day” here in NYC. And I’m noticing that this snow day has a way of wearing you out before anything even happens.

I’ve been anticipating this day since last week, when the weatherpeople on my local news started predicting what was to come. I found myself checking the forecast, wondering how much would stick, thinking about schedules and supplies. It wasn’t stressful exactly, just mentally tiring. Even good disruptions, like a snowfall, take energy. Who can relate?

When the snow finally came, the pace of the day changed in a way that felt both welcome and a little disorienting. We walked through the park, which looked magical under a layer of snow. People of all ages were out sledding. Some were even skiing and snowboarding. Most were clearly trying to take advantage of what Mother Nature gave us. And then there were others (like me!) standing around with hot chocolate, watching and chatting. I noticed that no one seemed in a hurry.

Being outside felt good. It was also grounding in a simple way. The cold made us more aware of our bodies, when our fingers needed hand warmers, and when it was time to head home, like when warmth started to sound better than one more lap around the park.

Back at home, the day naturally turned inward. I baked muffins and made chili and soup. Snow days tend to shift how and why we eat. We wanted warm food, food that felt filling and familiar. We ate when we were hungry and stopped when we were full, without much thought beyond that.

That’s one of the reasons snow days pair so naturally with intuitive eating. They remove some of the usual structure and force us to respond instead of plan. Cold weather, movement, and being home all day change our needs, and intuitive eating gives us permission to adjust without judgment. Wanting more substantial meals or snacks on a day like this isn’t emotional or indulgent, it’s practical.

Snow days also highlight intuitive living in small ways. Plans get canceled. Expectations soften. The day becomes about responding to what’s happening rather than sticking to what was supposed to happen. We move our bodies because it feels good, rest when we’re tired, and let the day unfold without trying to optimize it.

By the end of the day, we were tired. Not overwhelmed, just peaceful. Today's snow day was a simple reminder that slowing down, listening to your body, and meeting your basic needs is enough.

And if snow days, or life in general, feel more draining than grounding, you don’t have to carry it alone. Therapy can be a place to slow down, feel supported, and reconnect with what you need. I’m here if you’d like to reach out. Contact me at rachel@livehealthynyc.com

Trends

When Water Isn’t Enough Anymore

I don’t know why, but I’m still amazed by the food trends that continue to dominate social media. Scroll long enough and you’ll find endless advice that is often oversimplified, and sometimes misguided packaged as “wellness.” I find it both fascinating and exhausting.

In my family, we love water. Hydration has never been a hard sell. I joke that when I gave birth to my kids, they came out holding bottles of Poland Spring. So when I recently read about the “loaded water” trend taking over social media, I was genuinely surprised.

If you haven’t seen it yet, loaded water typically involves adding fruits, vegetables, herbs, powders, syrups, or supplements to water to “enhance” its health benefits. The claims are big: improved digestion, boosted metabolism, reduced inflammation, increased energy, even weight loss. It’s water, upgraded and optimized.

On the surface, it sounds harmless. Drinking water is a good thing. Adding flavor can make it more enjoyable. But as with many wellness trends, the concern isn’t the behavior itself, it’s the messaging underneath it.

Somehow, plain water isn’t enough anymore. It needs to do more. It needs to fix something. And often, that “something” is framed as a problem with our bodies. We’re subtly told that unless our water is infused or supplemented, we’re not hydrating “correctly.”

This is where I pause.

There’s nothing wrong with adding lemon, cucumber, mint, berries, or bubbles to your water if you enjoy it. Taste matters. Pleasure matters. But when hydration becomes another area where we feel pressure to get wellness “right,” it can pull us away from listening to ourselves.

Food trends often promise control in a world that feels unpredictable. They suggest that if we just follow the right formula, drink this, avoid that, we’ll finally figure it out. But bodies don’t work that way.

Your body is already communicating with you. Thirst is a signal. Enjoyment is a signal. Satisfaction is a signal. You don’t need to earn the right to drink water.

If loaded water helps you hydrate because you genuinely like it, that’s worth noticing. If it leaves you feeling anxious or convinced that plain water isn’t enough, that’s worth noticing too.

Trends will come and go. The invitation is to meet them with curiosity rather than urgency. To ask, Does this support me? instead of Am I doing this right?

Sometimes, a cold glass of plain water is exactly what your body is asking for. And that can be enough.

If you’d like support in creating a gentler, more sustainable relationship with food or your body, I’d love to help. You can reach me at Rachel@livehealthynyc.com.

New Years Resolutions Revisited

Revisiting New Year’s Resolutions: Stepping Back Onto the Field

As I think about the year ahead and what I want 2026 to look like, one thing feels clear: I want this to be a good year. Not a perfect year. Not one where every goal is met effortlessly or every box is checked. Just a good year. A year that is marked by intention, presence, and honest effort.

That’s why revisiting New Year’s resolutions matters.

Too often, resolutions are treated as a one-time event. We set them in January, full of hope and motivation, and then quietly abandon them when life does what it always does. Life gets busy, messy, and unpredictable. But meaningful change doesn’t happen in a straight line, and it certainly doesn’t happen simply because the calendar flips.

Revisiting our intentions gives us permission to pause and reassess. To ask: Is this still realistic? Is this still important? Does this still fit the life I’m actually living, not the one I imagined in a burst of January optimism? A fresh start doesn’t belong only to January 1st. It’s available any time we stop long enough to reflect.

Over time, I’ve stopped chasing perfect goals and started building what actually supports me. Simple habits. Small check-ins. Structures that help me stay connected to what matters most. For me, that grounding often comes back to values. To the two words I wear every day: STRONG and HAPPY. They’re not goals to achieve, but reminders of how I want to show up.

I think of this approach as creating a calendar of catalysts: intentional moments throughout the year that invite reflection. These aren’t checkpoints meant to judge progress. They’re gentle invitations to ask, What’s working? What feels heavy? What might need adjusting? They remind us that growth is ongoing and that course correction is part of the process, not a failure.

This way of approaching change creates space for both acceptance and expectation. We can accept ourselves as we are today with our energy levels, our limitations, and our humanness, while still expecting more from ourselves in ways that are compassionate rather than punishing. These ideas aren’t opposites. In fact, they work best together.

Self-compassion doesn’t mean lowering standards until nothing matters. It means setting standards that honor reality. Sustainable habits aren’t built through pressure alone; they’re built through consistency, forgiveness, and recommitment. They are built through noticing when we drift and then choosing to come back.

If you find yourself wanting support as you revisit your goals, build habits that actually stick, or create a rhythm of accountability that feels kind instead of rigid, this is the work I help clients do. You don’t have to figure it all out alone. Often, having a thoughtful space to reflect and recalibrate makes all the difference. I’m available for individual sessions. You can reach me rachel@livehealthynyc.com.

As you revisit your resolutions this year, consider asking yourself: What still matters? What needs to change? What would feel supportive right now? You don’t need to start over. You don’t need a brand-new version of yourself. Just a willingness to keep showing up thoughtfully, imperfectly, and with intention.

This is how good years are made!

One Day at a Time: A Kinder Way to Begin the New Year 2026

The start of a new year often arrives with a loud invitation to do more. I catch myself thinking, This year I’m going to set bigger goals. I’m going to fix everything. I’m going to become a “new me” by January 2nd.

Here’s the truth: it’s easy to get swept up in that energy and just as easy to feel defeated when the list becomes unrealistic before the month even begins.

So here is my epiphany (not a groundbreaking one, but worth repeating): what if we chose a quieter beginning?

Instead of asking, “what can I change?” What if we asked, “what is one small thing I can begin today?”

So often, our goals aren’t the problem. The pressure we place on ourselves is. We stack expectations so high that they leave no room for being human. We leave no room for rest, enjoyment, or the natural ebb and flow of life. When we approach January with an all-or-nothing mindset, even meaningful intentions can quickly turn into sources of shame.

I’ve been there. That’s why this year, instead of overhauling my entire life, I chose to begin one simple practice I’ve been thinking about for a long time: a journal.

Not a perfectly curated one. Not pages filled every single day. Just a notebook where I jot down a few things that I am thinking about and that I’m grateful for. Some mornings it will happen quietly with my coffee. Some nights it can be part of winding down. Some days I might not get to it at all, and that’s okay. This one small habit feels grounding, not demanding. It reminds me that change doesn’t have to be dramatic to be meaningful.

The same mindset applies to how we approach food and our bodies in the new year.

Many people enter January carrying a mental list of what they “shouldn’t” have eaten in December. And desserts often at the top. What if this year, you resolved to enjoy dessert without shame? Not as a reward. Not as a last hurrah.

Pleasure does not cancel out health. Enjoying food does not mean you’ve failed. You don’t need to apologize for what you’ve eaten or punish yourself for what you haven’t done.

Taking one day at a time means allowing each day to be enough on its own. It means recognizing that consistency is built through compassion, not pressure. You can move toward your goals while still enjoying your life. Both can exist together.

As you step into this new year, consider this: start one thing you’ve been wanting to do. Release the expectation to do everything at once. Let today be enough.

Progress doesn’t come from becoming someone else overnight. It comes from showing up one day at a time with honesty, imperfection, and kindness toward yourself. I believe this, in itself, is a beautiful way to begin the new year.

If you’d like support in creating a gentler, more sustainable relationship with food, your body, or your goals, reach out to me at Rachel@livehealthynyc.com. 

NEW YEARS 2026

XMAS 2025

What to Eat After “Overdoing It” on Holiday Treats (A Mindful Reset)

This happens to me every year around this season…The cookies come out, the peppermint bark appears, and suddenly you’ve eaten more holiday treats in one afternoon than you planned for the whole week. Then comes the familiar wave: Why did I do that? What do I eat now?

The holidays bring joy, connection, nostalgia, stress, and feelings of being overwhelmed. And I am finding, often, all at once! And in the middle of it, food becomes comfort, celebration, distraction, or simply something delicious within arm’s reach.

If you’ve had a day (or week) where you’ve eaten more holiday treats than you planned, here’s what I want to say: Take a breath. You’re human and you’re not alone!

YOU DON’T NEED TO MAKE UP FOR ANYTHING! The urge to compensate, to skip meals, to eat “clean,” or the promise that you’ll be “good tomorrow” is a trap. 

Restriction only fuels the cycle of craving → overeating → guilt → more restriction.

Your body doesn’t need punishment. It needs steadiness.

I am often asked, what is the most healing thing you can do right now? I say: Return to your next normal meal. Not less. Not later. Just your usual rhythm. Try to let Your body guide you. Instead of asking, “How do I undo this?” Try asking yourself: “How do I want to feel for the rest of the day?” 

Maybe you are wanting something warm and comforting. Try a soup, roasted vegetables, a grain bowl, pasta, or eggs. Or maybe your body is saying you want cool and refreshing like fruit, yogurt, or a salad. I also like to add some protein, fiber, and fat like fish or chicken or tofu with farro, lentils, barley, or quinoa and avocado.

These aren’t “detox” foods! They’re supportive foods. They help you come back to yourself rather than make up for anything.

Here’s something else I want to add: Be kind to yourself! Your body can process sugar. What it cannot process is shame.

If you ate past fullness or ate mindlessly, instead of criticizing yourself, ask yourself: What was I needing in that moment? Was it comfort? Was it rest? Was it permission? Was it ease? Was it connection?

This is where real change begins, not in the food itself, but in the compassion you offer your experience.

If moments like these around food feel familiar or if you’re craving a more peaceful, intuitive relationship with eating, individual therapy can help. I offer one-on-one sessions where we can explore your patterns with food, body, and emotion, and build a more grounded, compassionate way of navigating them. 

With warmth,
Rachel

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.