Hunger is NOT an emergency
(Despite what your panicked brain and that vending machine would like you to believe)
What do you do when you get hungry?
Do you stop, breathe, calmly assess the sensation with stoic curiosity?
No?
Of course not.
You bolt for the fridge like it owes you money.
Mid-meeting? Snack.
Mid-Netflix? Snack.
Mid-yoga? Probably a protein ball.
Because somewhere along the way, we confused hunger with anaphylaxis.
We treat it like an emergency.
A DEFCON 1, nuclear-launch-button-pressing, red-alert scenario that must be neutralised immediately. Preferably with cheese.
And look—I get it. I really do.
Hunger’s meant to feel a bit uncomfortable. That’s its job.
It evolved to poke you in the ribs and say, “Oi! We’re low on fuel, genius. Go find a mammoth or a Macca’s.”
It kept our ancestors alive.
The problem is… it’s now making your pants die a slow and stretchy death.
“True Hunger” vs. “Head Hunger”
(Spoiler: One’s a biological whisper. The other’s a tantruming toddler in your skull.)
Let’s clear something up before your inner critic starts prepping a TED Talk:
I’m not saying hunger is bad.
And no, you do not need to starve to lose weight. This is not “The Hunger Games: Wellness Edition.”
But if you’re eating every time you feel something vaguely resembling hunger—especially when that “hunger” appears suspiciously right after your boss emails you or just as the kettle boils at 9pm—then we need to talk.
Because not all hunger is created equal.
True hunger is physical.
It builds slowly, like a musical crescendo.
It’s the rumble in your tummy, the hollow feeling, the polite internal memo that says, “Excuse me, boss—might we consider lunch?”
Head hunger, on the other hand, is a drama queen.
It barges in uninvited.
It’s urgent. Impulsive.
It whispers, “Let’s have chips for no reason” and shouts, “If we don’t eat now, we might die!”
It’s not your body. It’s your brain.
And it’s lying to you.
Emotional Eating: The Side Hustle of the Modern Mind
Let’s be real. We don’t just eat when we’re hungry anymore.
We eat when we’re:
Sad and want a sugar cuddle.
Stressed and need crunchy catharsis.
Lonely and the fridge light feels like companionship.
Bored and food is our favourite form of theatre.
Happy and need a reason to celebrate (cheesecake, obviously).
Some of us even eat in secret, like culinary ninjas hiding our trail of Tim Tams behind throw pillows.
Why?
Because we learned that food soothes.
And like any quick fix, it works. For five minutes.
Then comes guilt, bloat and the overwhelming desire to undo it all with celery.
Which, let’s face it, is the saddest apology vegetable in the known universe.
Hunger ≠ Emergency
(Unless you’re being chased by wolves. In which case, run first, snack later.)
So here’s the radical idea:
What if you didn’t treat hunger like a house fire?
What if, instead of panicking, you just… paused?
And asked:
“Is this real?”
“Is my body actually asking for fuel?”
“Or is my brain just doing that thing it does when it’s trying to escape an emotion?”
Because newsflash:
If the “hunger” hits like a freight train and screams EAT NOW OR PERISH, it’s probably not hunger. It’s head noise.
Real hunger is chill. Patient. It doesn’t mind waiting a bit while you assess the situation like a grown-up with agency.
And if it is real hunger and you're not near food? Don’t panic.
That’s what body fat is for.
You’re not going to spontaneously combust.
You can just… dine in.
That’s right. Your body is a 24/7 buffet of stored snacks. How convenient!
What To Do Instead (AKA: The Hunger Audit)
Next time you feel “hungry” and are about to crash-tackle the pantry:
Pause. Take a breath.
Ask: “Is this stomach hunger or head drama?”
Assess the timing: Is this sudden? Desperate? Suspiciously tied to your emotional state?
Decide: Do I need food—or a nap, a hug, a cry or a walk?
Act accordingly, like the emotionally literate badass you are becoming.
Worst case? You misjudge and get a little hangry.
But hey—being a bit cranky isn’t a medical emergency.
You don’t need to panic.
You don’t need to fix the feeling.
You just need to trust that you’re capable of feeling discomfort without a snack-based rescue mission.
Final Thoughts (Delivered While Standing On A Soap Box)
Hunger is a signal, not a siren.
It’s not a trap. It’s not a trick.
And it’s definitely not a cue to inhale an entire packet of rice crackers because your inbox made you anxious.
So next time your tummy grumbles, don’t freak out.
Don’t assume the world is ending.
Just ask:
“Is this real… or is my head just hungry for something I can’t find in the fridge?”
That simple pause?
That’s where power lives.
And it’s in that power that you’ll change everything.
Mic dropped. Snack optional.