Rebellion eating

Ah yes.
Rebellion eating.
Also known as “F*ck it, I’m eating the whole damn cake.”

You’ve been behaving. So well, in fact, that even Gwyneth Paltrow would look at your lunch and nod in solemn approval.
You’ve planned. You’ve prepped. You’ve spiralised zucchini like a domestic deity.
And then—
BAM!
Somewhere between “just one square of dark chocolate” and “I’ll be good tomorrow,” you’ve inhaled a packet of Tim Tams and half the pantry.

You’re not hungry.
You’re not even particularly enjoying it by bite #6.
But you’re rebelling. Hard.

Against the food rules.
Against the self-imposed rigidity.
Against your own over-controlling internal nutrition dictator who sounds suspiciously like every wellness influencer you’ve ever hate-followed on Instagram.

This is Rebellion Eating—and it deserves a standing ovation for how sneakily it shows up and how bloody dramatic it is.

The Forbidden Fruit Always Tastes Like Pizza

Let’s start with the basics:
Humans are weird.
Tell us we can’t have something and suddenly it becomes all we can think about.

You tell yourself no chips.
Your brain says: “CHIPS. IMMEDIATELY. OR WE RIOT.”

It’s psychological. It’s primal.
It’s also the nutritional equivalent of holding your breath until you pass out—and then blaming the oxygen when you wake up gasping.

Rebellion eating is not about lacking willpower.
It’s about your brain staging a full-blown protest against restriction.

It’s waving a placard that says:
“DOWN WITH KALE! UP WITH KETTLE CHIPS!”

The Great Big “I Deserve This” Lie

Another favourite rebellion eating script:
“I’ve been good all day.”
“I’ve had a rough week.”
“I deserve this.”

Let’s unpack that. You “deserve”... what, exactly?
To feel physically sick?
To spiral into guilt?
To fuel the same cycle that’s been keeping you stuck?

Mate, if you really deserve something, how about peace of mind?
How about pleasure without regret?
How about not being emotionally blackmailed by a stale biscuit at 10pm?

Food is not a prize.
You don’t need to earn it.
You’re a grown-up. You can eat ice cream for breakfast if you bloody want.

(But maybe ask yourself why you want to. That’s the secret sauce.)

Perfectionism, That Smug Little Bastard

Rebellion eating is often perfectionism’s evil twin.

You set the bar sky-high.
No sugar, no carbs, no fun.
You cling to some fantasy of clean eating purity that only exists in Gwyneth’s group chat.

And the second you slip—
One bite, one lick, one rogue biscuit—it’s:
“Well, I’ve ruined it now. Might as well go full raccoon.”

This is called all-or-nothing thinking.
It’s terrible.
It’s toxic.
And it turns one biscuit into twelve… and shame into a personality trait.

Here’s the truth:
Progress isn’t linear.
You don’t need a perfect record.
You just need to not give up when you’re not perfect.

What You’re Actually Hungry For

Let’s go deeper.
Because rebellion eating isn’t just about food.
It’s about unmet needs wearing a cheese disguise.

You’re not “craving” chocolate.
You’re craving relief.
You’re not desperate for chips.
You’re desperate for control.
Or freedom.
Or just five f*cking minutes of peace where no one needs anything from you.

Rebellion eating is often an adult tantrum.
Except instead of screaming on the floor of Woolies, you’re shovelling peanut butter from the jar and quietly resenting your life choices.

Ask yourself:

“What am I actually rebelling against?”

Is it:

  • The never-ending diet rules?

  • The guilt tax on pleasure?

  • The pressure to be ‘good’ all the time?

  • The constant state of self-imposed deprivation?

Or is it something deeper?
A life that feels restrictive in ways food cannot fix.

Breaking the Cycle Without Breaking Yourself

Here’s how we free ourselves from the rebellion trap—without needing another rulebook or juice cleanse from hell.

1. Ditch the Restriction:
Food is not the enemy.
Labelling it “bad” just makes it more appealing.
Give yourself permission. Full, unconditional permission to eat anything.
Because when you can have it, the drama disappears.

2. Burn the Perfection Playbook:
Perfection is a fantasy.
Balance is real.
Balance includes chips and wine and meals that don’t photograph well.
Get over it. Your body will thank you.

3. Listen to Your Actual Body, Not Your Inner Food Cop:
Tune in.
Are you hungry? Eat.
Are you full? Stop.
Is this boredom, stress or spite-eating because Shelly commented on your lunch again? Maybe try something else.

4. Rewire the Inner Dialogue:
If your inner voice sounds like a bootcamp sergeant, it’s time for a new narrator.
Try kindness. Curiosity. Compassion.
Or at least sarcasm. Sarcasm helps.

5. De-Stress Like It’s Your Job:
Stress is the nitro to rebellion eating’s matchstick.
Build boundaries. Say no. Sleep. Unfollow the nutrition zealots.
Buy a weighted blanket. Scream into a pillow.
Do whatever you need to reduce the pressure valve.

The Encore

Rebellion eating is not weakness.
It’s a symptom.
A red flag.
A flashing neon sign that says:
“Something in your life feels too tight. Too rigid. Too much.”

The answer isn’t another plan.
It’s freedom.
It’s awareness.
It’s learning to nourish the you that doesn’t just want food—but wants life to feel a little lighter, a little more your own.

So next time you find yourself holding the fridge door open, scanning for a rebellion snack…

Pause.

And ask yourself:

“What am I actually rebelling against?”

Then go solve that.
And eat the damn snack if you still want it.

And if this feels big and hard and tangled?
That’s okay. I help with that.
Get in touch—I’d love to help you make peace with food and the revolution inside your head.

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What are you ‘really’ hungry for?

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Your self-fulfilling prophesy