Words Matter
Let’s talk about words. Those mouthy little bastards.
They can lift you like a Beyoncé key change or slam you into the floor like a toddler on a sugar high.
Some words stick to you like glitter at a children’s party—tenacious, slightly itchy and still showing up in weird places three years later.
Maybe it was the first time someone said, “You’re actually really good at that,” and for once, it didn’t feel like pity wrapped in a compliment.
Or maybe it was when your brother started calling you “The Human Hoover” at age nine because you polished off your lasagne and his. Cute. And now it echoes in your brain every time you go near a buffet.
Words aren’t just sound waves and spit particles. They’re spells.
Tiny incantations we cast every day, some with the power to soothe, others with the precision of a passive-aggressive aunt at Christmas lunch.
Words Feed Us—Or F*ck With Us
Language shapes experience. The way we talk about food, our bodies, our choices—it all gets baked into our identity like emotional MSG.
“I was bad today.”
“I’m trying to be good.”
“I’ve ruined everything with that one slice of cake.”
What are we doing—committing pastry-based war crimes?
The words we use to describe eating aren’t neutral.
They’re often laced with guilt, shame or pseudo-morality like we’re being judged by some invisible celery tribunal.
We don’t just eat. We confess.
And it gets in deep.
The way you talk about your body in your head?
That’s the voice you take with you to dinner.
To your friendships.
To your bedroom.
To your mirror.
So yeah. Words matter. A lot. Especially the ones no one else hears.
Your Voice Is Your Inner DJ — And She’s Got a Shit Playlist
Think about it: if you talked to your mates the way you talk to yourself, you’d have no mates.
You’d be the person who gets uninvited from group chats.
But somehow, we think it’s normal to say things like:
“You’ve got no self-control.”
“You’ll never get it together.”
“You look disgusting in those jeans.”
Imagine walking around with that kind of audio commentary every day.
Oh wait—you do.
Here’s the kicker: your brain listens.
It doesn't know you're being sarcastic. It doesn't fact-check.
It just hears the message, stamps it “TRUE,” and files it under “Reasons You Suck.”
But—plot twist—you can change the script.
You can swap “I always mess it up” for “I’m learning to pause before I eat the entire contents of the pantry.”
You can ditch “I can’t be trusted” for “I’m building trust with myself, one snack at a time.”
Speak Like You Mean It
When you slow your words down—when you mean what you say instead of flinging it like old underpants into the void—people feel it.
You feel it.
They land differently. With more precision. More power. Less fluff.
It’s the difference between a splatter-paint tantrum and a bloody Monet.
So here’s your actual challenge, if you’re up for it:
Over the next few days, start eavesdropping on yourself.
Yes, on you.
Listen to your words like you’re your own dodgy flatmate. Watch what comes out of your mouth when someone offers you dessert or when you look in the mirror or when you say “I’m fine” and you’re absolutely, definitely not fine.
Whose words light you up like a disco ball?
Whose make you shrink like a week-old spinach leaf?
What about your own? Are you the hype-woman you desperately need or are you just another background bully with an access-all-areas pass?
Words Create Your Reality (Yes, Even “Just Joking”)
When we label food “naughty,” we make eating feel like rebellion.
When we call ourselves “good” for skipping dessert, we tie our moral worth to a f*cking crème brûlée.
And when we joke about our bodies in that self-deprecating, “Oh I’m just being funny” way—guess what? Your subconscious isn’t laughing.
So try this instead:
Before you say it—stop.
Check.
Is it kind? Is it helpful? Does it sound like something you’d say to your best mate or your kid or a puppy with low self-esteem?
No? Then maybe it’s not the vibe.
Final Word (Ha!)
Words aren’t just noise. They’re tools.
They can stitch you back together or unravel you thread by thread.
So use them like a scalpel, not a chainsaw.
And when it comes to food, your body and the voice in your head?
Speak like someone who gives a damn.
Because you are listening.