EP 299: Your Body Is the Least Interesting Thing About You ~ 'Health,' Body Image & Ariana Grande
Her Best Self with Lindsey Nichol | Eating Disorder Recovery Podcast — Less Food Noise. More Life.Show Notes
The internet is buzzing right now about Ariana Grande — her stepping back from public life, and her message asking people to stop commenting on her body. And underneath this whole conversation is something every one of us needs to hear, because it goes straight to the heart of recovery. Today, with a whole lot of grace, we're talking about the word "healthy" — and how it can become one of the most slippery slopes in all of recovery. I'm not here to speculate about anyone's private health (that's actually part of my point). I'm here to name the lie our culture keeps selling us: that thinner automatically means healthier. Sis, it doesn't — and the science agrees with me.
The part she got so right For years, Ariana has asked people to stop commenting on her body, recently re-sharing that message as a "loving reminder." And she's right. There's a comfortability in our culture with narrating other people's bodies, faces, and weight — and it's dangerous for everyone. We have to stop this. Stop the "did she lose weight," stop the "is she okay, she looks so thin." You never know who's in recovery. You never know whose daughter is listening. You never know what your words land on top of.
Where the fire got lit in me Somewhere in this conversation came the idea that an older, fuller version of a body wasn't "the healthy one." That may be completely true for any given person — only they and their care team could know. But that exact sentence — "my old body wasn't the healthy one" — is a sentence I told myself. It's one I've heard from a hundred women in this community. And it's one of the most slippery sentences in recovery, because the eating disorder is a master at wearing the costume of wellness. It doesn't say "let's be destructive." It says "let's just be healthy, let's just be clean, let's just be disciplined."
When "healthy" is actually the disorder talking Let me be clear, because I lived it:
Eating very little and calling it clean Only eating foods with five ingredients or less and calling it healthy Cutting whole food groups and calling it a lifestyle Being so consumed by "wellness" that you can't sit at the family table, can't travel without a plan, can't be spontaneous, can't live
That is not health. That's a disorder in a wellness costume. And the hardest part? When you're in it, you believe your own lie. For a long time I fully believed I was just "making healthy choices." It felt like virtue. It felt like discipline. That's what makes the distortion so dangerous — from the inside, it feels like truth.
The lie our culture keeps selling We're in a moment where thinness is loudly celebrated again — and our teens, our tweens, the young women who idolize who they follow are absorbing the message that thinner automatically equals healthier and better. The science says otherwise. In the large studies on weight and mortality, being underweight carries a significantly elevated risk of death — roughly one and a half times higher in many studies, and several times higher in some populations. Meanwhile, the category our culture panics about — "overweight" (a BMI of 25–30, without obesity) — is consistently not linked to higher mortality, and in a number of large studies is associated with slightly lower risk than "normal" weight. Let that land. The body our culture tells you to fear is often not the dangerous one. The body our culture applauds can be hiding real danger. Thin is not a synonym for healthy. It never was.
We also don't get to pretend we see nothing Here's the nuance, held with honesty: "stop commenting on bodies" is true — and love sometimes notices. When people express genuine concern for someone they can see is struggling, that isn't always cruelty. Sometimes it's the same instinct that makes a mother knock on a door. The problem isn't caring — it's consuming: the speculation, the spectacle, strangers turning a real person into content. So here's the line: we don't get to narrate, diagnose, or gossip
More from Her Best Self with Lindsey Nichol | Eating Disorder Recovery Podcast — Less Food Noise. More Life.
Sis, here’s the truth: most of us wake up and immediately go into reaction mode. You react to how your body feels. You react to the number on the scale. You react to what you see in the mirror, to the anxiety about what you’re going to eat today. You’re constantly reacting to life like it’s happening to you — and when you’re in recovery, living in reaction mode keeps you right where the eating disorder wants you, because it feeds off the panic, the fear, the overwhelm. Today I’m handing you a simple 5-minute ritual that interrupts that pattern and shifts you from reaction to intention. Grab your journal — this one’s a keeper. Why this works (it’s not just woo): When you shift from reacting to practicing intention and mindfulness, you’re literally changing your brain — moving out of the amygdala (the fear-based, reactive part the eating disorder hijacks) and into the prefrontal cortex, where you make conscious, value-based decisions. Research in positive psychology also shows gratitude practices meaningfully reduce anxiety and depression and build real well-being. This little ritual puts the power back in your hands. The ritual — three questions to ask yourself: 1. What am I grateful for? Not toxic positivity — evidence of goodness, even on hard days. And get specific to recovery: “I’m grateful my body digested food yesterday without me obsessing.” “I’m grateful I sat through dinner with friends and was present.” “I’m grateful for the energy I had because I nourished myself.” You’re training your brain to find proof that your recovery is working. On the really hard days, start tiny: I’m grateful I woke up. I’m grateful for this breath. I’m grateful I get to show up even when I don’t want to. 2. What am I focused on gaining? This is the game changer — shifting from avoidance motivation (I’m scared to gain weight, I don’t want to lose control) to approach motivation (moving toward something). Instead of “I’m trying not to restrict,” ask “What am I gaining by nourishing my body?” — freedom from food thoughts, energy for your kids, mental clarity, peace in your own skin. We’re not running away from fear. We’re running toward our best self. 3. What am I choosing to release? You can’t gain what you named in question two while gripping the old beliefs and behaviors. Releasing might sound like: “I’m releasing the belief that my worth is tied to the scale.” “I’m releasing the need to know every calorie.” “I’m releasing comparison to how I looked five years ago.” “I’m releasing the expectation that recovery should look perfect.” Naming what you release creates awareness — and awareness gives you the power to say, “No, I already put that down,” every time it tries to sneak back in. The heart of it: When you live with intention instead of reaction, recovery stops being something you’re just trying to survive and becomes something you’re actively creating. “You’re not white-knuckling your way through recovery anymore. You’re intentionally choosing what you want to gain. We are going toward our very best self.” Your work this week: Use the ritual — at the start of your week, in the morning, when you’re triggered, or when you feel yourself slipping into old patterns. Five minutes. Write down one thing for each: what you’re grateful for, what you’re gaining, what you’re releasing. Intention over reaction.
Sis, we’re heading into the season of triggers — and if you’re already spiraling about how you’ll handle all the food, all the people, and all the comments about bodies and what’s on your plate, this episode is your armor. You know the moment: you sit down at the table, and your aunt says “you look so healthy, are you eating more?” or “wow, you’ve lost so much weight!” — and just like that, your chest tightens, your throat closes, and before you even realize it, you’re making plans to restrict tomorrow or add an extra workout this week. I’ve been there (Thanksgiving was the trigger for me). So today I’m handing you the real-time game plan I walk through with my clients — including one, “Allison,” who texted me mid-panic from a family gathering this week. The 6-step plan for when you’re triggered:
If recovery from an eating disorder feels so hard right now that you're white-knuckling your way through it — "why do I have to do this? why me?" — sis, I've been exactly where you are. But there's a blind spot keeping you stuck in that fight, and one shift in how you see it can make the whole thing feel lighter. Not because the work changes. Because you do. In this episode:
Sis, let's start with something true, and a little bit hard. When we first start down the long road of an eating disorder, we could never have imagined what we'd give up to become the smallest version of ourselves. It doesn't happen all at once — it's a slow sacrifice, one tiny concession at a time, until one day you look up and wonder, how did I ever let it get this far? And then, when you finally get out of denial, you ask the two questions: Will this ever change? And how do I change it? Today I'm answering that — with five things recovery taught me. And they're probably not the five you'd expect. Because recovery was never flashy. It wasn't the compliments or the "what do you do to be so skinny?" It was quiet. It was ordinary. It was doing the right thing when no one was watching and no one was clapping. The 5 things recovery taught me:
How's your week starting off, sis? Because mine? My Monday was a blur. The weekend was crazy, I got thrown into the week, and I needed a level set — a true up. So if you're feeling that too, this episode is your reset. Today I'm sharing a simple, repeatable weekly check-in — I call it True Up Tuesday — that realigns your goals with your authentic self so one chaotic Monday doesn't hijack your whole week (or your recovery). Because freedom doesn't happen overnight, but it also doesn't happen without tangible tools you actually use. The truth at the heart of this episode: In a recent therapy session, my therapist told me something that stopped me cold: "Lindsey, you have a faulty notion that you can get everything done. You can't be everything to everybody." And listen — I'm the doer, Miss High Standards (I know you are too, or you wouldn't be here). But here's what I had to hear, and what you might need today: you can do hard things, but you can't do all things. The True Up Tuesday check-in: Grab your journal and fill in the blanks: