That’s just what minds do
(Or: Your Brain Is a Drama Queen and That’s Okay)
After almost 20 years of being a dietitian — twenty years, people — in rooms, on Zooms, in sessions so private even the client’s shame wore a disguise…
After hearing every confession from “I eat when I’m sad” to “I ate all the birthday cake and it wasn’t even my birthday” —
I noticed something. Something oddly profound.
We are all…
Exactly the bloody same.
Yes, I know, shock horror!
Because sure — your stories are unique.
You’ve got your own playlist of trauma, family weirdness, allergies, unresolved issues with your Year 8 netball coach...
But underneath all that?
You run on the same dodgy operating system as the rest of us.
The same noisy, twitchy, self-doubting, sugar-craving, contradiction-riddled miracle that is…
The human mind.
Your Mind: The Original Drama Llama
You see, your mind — clever little bastard that it is —
Talks. All day.
Narrating your life like it’s auditioning for a voiceover gig on a soap opera you didn’t ask to be in.
“You shouldn’t eat that.”
“You’ve ruined everything.”
“This will never work.”
“Look at Susan, she’s doing better.”
“Don’t even try, remember what happened last time.”
“Might as well eat the entire f*cking cheesecake now.”
And it’s doing this without your permission.
It just does it.
And — crucially — you believe it.
Because it's your brain. And it sounds very convincing, doesn't it?
But here’s the thing:
Just because it’s your brain, doesn’t mean it’s telling the truth.
It’s not a monk. It’s not a guru. It’s not Morgan Freeman.
It’s a pattern-making machine.
A collection of old programming and mental habits that repeats whatever you've fed it since childhood.
It’s not evil.
It’s not broken.
It’s just... what minds do.
The Donut That Derailed a Dream
Let’s talk about this in the real world.
The world where you start strong. Bright-eyed. Motivated. Full of hope and Pinterest salads.
You’re going to finally do it.
You’ve found a plan. You’ve bought the planner. You’re meal-prepping like a contestant on MasterChef: Apocalypse Edition.
Then… life happens.
You go to a wedding. There’s free champagne. And cake. And you overeat.
Your mind goes:
“You’ve blown it. May as well hoover the buffet table and start again Monday.”
Or you’re at work. Someone brings donuts.
You take one.
Then another.
Then that voice again:
“You have no self-control. You’ll never change. Might as well get takeaway tonight too.”
Or the scale doesn’t budge.
Not even 100 grams.
And suddenly you're thinking:
“What’s the point? This is useless. I’ve done this all before. I’m broken.”
And then…
You quit.
It’s Not What Happens, It’s What You Tell Yourself About It
Now, here’s the kicker — the golden, slightly infuriating truth:
It wasn’t the donut.
It wasn’t the wedding.
It wasn’t the scale.
It was the thoughts you had about those things.
Your interpretation.
Your inner monologue.
Your mind’s very dramatic TED Talk titled “Why You Suck and Should Probably Give Up Forever”.
Because when you believe those thoughts,
you don’t just slip — you spiral.
You give up.
Not because you failed.
But because you thought you did.
Change Feels Gross. That’s Normal.
Here’s the inconvenient truth your motivational fridge magnet won’t tell you:
Your brain doesn’t like change.
It prefers sameness.
Even if sameness is uncomfortable.
Even if sameness is binge-eating in the pantry with a spoon and a sense of existential dread.
Change = unfamiliar.
Unfamiliar = unsafe.
So your mind rebels.
It throws shade.
It whispers doubts like it’s trying to win back an ex.
And when you feel uncomfortable, your brain — clever, primitive thing — just wants to make it stop.
So it tells you:
“Quit. Go back. This is too hard. Let’s watch Netflix and eat snacks and pretend none of this happened.”
And the moment you quit?
Relief.
Ahhh. So much easier.
But give it a week. Or two.
You’re back where you started — only now, with bonus guilt and a side of self-loathing.
This Is Why You Need a Coach
Enter: The Coach.
No, not the drill-sergeant kind yelling at you in Lycra.
I mean the real kind —
The mirror-holder. The BS-caller. The "I see your patterns and I'm not falling for them" guide.
Someone who helps you keep going when your brain is trying to throw the whole plan in the bin.
Because this journey — this whole becoming-who-you-want-to-be gig —
It’s not a straight line.
It’s starts and stops and meltdowns and Mondays.
And you are not supposed to do it alone.
The stops and starts are what make the journey feel exhausting.
It’s not that you’re weak.
It’s that you’re human.
And you’ve got a brain that’s afraid of change.
So, What Now?
If you take away nothing else from this rant disguised as a revelation, let it be this:
Your mind is not always your friend.
Your thoughts are not always true.
You don’t have to obey every mental fart your brain lets rip.
You can learn to think differently.
You can learn to respond differently.
You can have the life — and the body — you actually want.
But not by fighting yourself.
And not by quitting every time your mind panics and wants snacks.
Get a coach.
Any coach. One that makes you feel seen and called out in the same breath.
Find one who gets you and calls you on your BS lovingly but firmly — like a mental personal trainer with snacks and wisdom.
And then?
Keep. Bloody. Going.
Because change is possible.
Even with a drama queen brain.
Especially with a coach.
And who knows?
You might even learn to love that messy, marvellous mind of yours.