I’d be lying if I said it was all plain sailing. During the first week I was plagued with headaches and malaise, as my body got used to being deprived of its next sugar hit, while the second week saw what I can only describe as a period of grief. I cried most days as I began to understand how intertwined my diet and mental health really were – and what happened when I didn’t self-medicate with sugar-filled comfort food. Eventually it levelled out.
The whole process has been a worthwhile reminder of the mind-body connection. The simple fact is, when I fuel my body with nutritious, whole foods, I feel better – and, conversely, if I ingest too much sugar, alcohol or gluten, the opposite is true. Since paying close attention to the way this dynamic plays out, it is much harder to reach for a chocolate bar when I’m feeling stressed or unhappy, because I know it doesn’t feed me in the long run.
“When your diet causes you uncomfortable or damaging symptoms, then cutting certain foods out becomes much more intuitive and a step towards self-care, rather than punishment,” confirms Stephenson. “Once you’ve made that connection between something you eat and a negative symptom, it’s hard to ignore, and you naturally start to think twice about eating it, which cements into a behaviour that’s rooted in something positive. It’s much easier to build great health by taking steps like these.
A few months down the line, I’m not an entirely different, holier-than-thou person. I still love food and bougie dinners at restaurants, but day-to-day I adhere to many of the rules Stephenson set me in that first 28 days. I avoid gluten and sugar 90 per cent of the time and try to limit alcohol intake to once a week. I plan my meals religiously using Artah’s digital meal subscription – an online emporium of healthy recipes for every day of the week – and.
So while French and my finances still evade me, at least I am on track to mastering how to nourish myself in the next few years. And here’s to that.