The Day I Realized I Was Undereating and Calling It Healthy

I used to think that being “healthy” meant being disciplined.
Eating light.
Fasting and restricting.
Keeping things “clean.”
Not needing much food.

I wore my small appetite like a badge of honor; like proof that I was doing something right.

If I wasn’t hungry, I assumed it meant my body was efficient, my metabolism was strong, and my willpower was even stronger.
I thought needing less meant I was less work… the kind of woman whose body just “cooperated.”

I didn’t realize that what I was calling discipline was actually depletion.
That what I saw as control was really my body shutting down hunger signals to keep me going.
That skipping meals was not a sign of strength, it was a sign of stress.

I thought I was being low maintenance.
But the truth was… I wasn’t “low maintenance.”
I was undernourished.

And I didn’t realize it until everything started to feel harder, not dramatically, but subtly. Like life was getting heavier in a way that I couldn’t explain.

At first it didn’t look like burnout. It looked like…

• Skipping my breakfast because I was “not hungry yet”

• Pushing through the mornings on coffee because it was quick and convenient

• Grazing instead of eating meals and calling it “intuitive”

• Feeling proud that I could make it to 2 pm without eating, as if that made me stronge

• Thinking that cravings meant I lacked discipline instead of understanding that they were signals

• Feeling “good” when I ate less, even if my energy was crashing

It didn’t feel extreme.
It didn’t feel disordered.
It felt… normal.
Routine.
Almost expected.

It felt like what everyone around me was also doing. Especially women.

Women who were juggling work, families, stress, and still trying to take care of themselves.
Women who were praised for “being good,” for “eating clean,” for not being hungry.
Women who joked about running on coffee and adrenaline, as if it was just part of being an adult.

We are taught that needing less food is admirable.
That eating lightly is feminine.
That a small appetite is self-control.
That hunger is something to suppress, ignore, or negotiate with.

But what I didn’t understand back then was this: Your hunger isn’t a character flaw.
It’s biology.
And biology always wins.

Your body doesn’t care about rules or trends, it cares about survival.
And when it’s not getting enough, it will whisper… then nudge… then shout, until you finally start to listen.

My body kept whispering long before it ever screamed.

And because the signs were quiet, I just brushed them off as “normal.”

These signals showed up in small ways:

• Those familiar afternoon crashes where my brain felt foggy

• Mood dips I couldn’t explain, as if my emotional floor had dropped

• Feeling wired at night even when I was exhausted

• Waking up unrefreshed, no matter how early I went to bed

• PMS getting worse - heavier, moodier, more unpredictable

• Losing patience quicker than I wanted to

• Feeling overwhelmed by things that used to feel simple and manageable

None of it felt dramatic.
It wasn’t a crisis.
It was just… a slow unraveling.
A little more tension, a little less resilience.
A little more fatigue, a little less joy.

It was subtle enough that I didn’t connect the dots.

I kept thinking:
“I just need to get my life together.”
“I should be more disciplined.”
“I need a better routine.”
“I’m just stressed, it’s fine.”

I assumed that I was the problem, that I wasn’t trying hard enough, that I just needed more discipline and restriction.

It never once occurred to me that I simply just needed more food. Because how could the problem be under-eating if I was already trying so hard to eat “well”?

I was eating the way I thought healthy women were supposed to eat:
light, clean, minimal, disciplined.

But the truth was, my body wasn’t struggling because I was doing too little. It was struggling because I wasn’t giving it enough.

The turning point that surprised me.

It wasn’t dramatic.
It wasn’t a health scare or a big breakdown.
It was an ordinary afternoon where the exhaustion finally felt too heavy to explain away.

I remember sitting down, not because I had time, but because my legs felt tired in a way that didn’t make sense.
I opened my phone to track my day, just trying to figure out why everything felt so hard.

And that’s when it hit me.

That day all I had eaten was…
A coffee.
A banana on my way out the door.
And a protein bar that I had in my bag.

That was it and it was 4:17 pm.

I stared at the time, and I felt this wave of clarity wash over me.
No wonder I was crashing every afternoon.
No wonder my mood was shaky.
No wonder my sleep was off, my patience was thin, my cravings were loud.

My body was not confused.
It was not rebelling.
It was not “working against my hormones.”

It was running on fumes because that is all that I was giving it.

I was not broken.
I was not failing. I was not lacking discipline.
I was underfed.

And the part that hit hardest was realizing my body had been trying to keep me going on next-to-nothing for years, doing its best, adapting, compensating, quietly asking for more long before I ever noticed.

My exhaustion wasn’t a mystery.

My body was communicating in the only way it knew how:
Through symptoms I kept misinterpreting as personal flaws instead of biological needs.

Undereating doesn’t always look like restriction.

Sometimes it looks like being busy.
Or forgetting to eat.
Or calling coffee a breakfast.
Or eating “clean” but just… not enough.
Or living in survival mode so long that hunger cues don’t whisper anymore, they disappear completely.

And because women are so good at adapting, we normalize it.
We convince ourselves that this must just be “how our body works.”

Women often say things like:

“I don’t eat that much, but I’m still gaining weight.”
“I don’t have an appetite.”
“I’m not hungry in the morning.”
“I crave carbs all day.”
“I feel like I could live off caffeine.”
“I eat one real meal and I’m done.”

These are not personality traits.
They are not quirks.
They are not “bad habits.”

They’re signs of a stressed metabolism.

Because when your body does not feel safe, it will not ask for more fuel, even when it desperately needs it.
A dysregulated nervous system shuts down hunger cues as a survival response. Your body thinks that it is protecting you by keeping you “efficient,” by slowing things down, by reducing your appetite so that you can keep going on minimal energy.

But long-term, this survival strategy works against you.

• It leaves you running on empty.

• It drives cravings, irritability, fatigue, and that frustrating cycle of eating too little all day and then overeating at night.

• It keeps your hormones in a reactive state instead of a healing one.

• And worst of all? it convinces you that you are the problem, when really, your body has just been trying to get through the day with no gas in the tank.

Your body is not stubborn.
It is stressed.
And stressed bodies do not feel hunger; they feel pressure to survive.
That is what keeps you stuck.

Once I started nourishing properly, everything changed.

Not overnight.
But slowly and gently.
Like my body was finally exhaling after years of holding everything together with tension and caffeine.

At first it was subtle, so subtle that I almost missed it.

• My energy didn’t spike and crash anymore… it steadied.

• My PMS softened in a way I didn’t think was possible without suffering through it.

• My sleep felt deeper, and I actually woke up feeling like a human instead of half-running on adrenaline.

• My anxiety quieted; not gone, but noticeably less loud.

• My cravings started to make sense instead of feeling like “weakness.”

• My mood didn’t swing so sharply; things felt more stable, more doable.

• I wasn’t as irritable or overstimulated by the tiny things.

• I stopped feeling so overwhelmed by life, like I had more capacity again.

• My body no longer felt like it was fighting me; it felt like it was working with me.

And most importantly…

I felt like myself again.
Not a more “disciplined” version of me.
Not a more “perfect” or “clean-eating” version.
Just me - fed, grounded, calm, and stable.

A version of me that I didn’t even realize I had been missing.

All from eating enough.
Not restricting more.
Not shrinking myself.
Not obsessing over being “good.”

Just finally giving my body the one the thing that she had been asking for all along: nourishment.

Here’s what I wish more women knew

You are not tired because you’re weak, you are tired because you’re under-fueled.
Your body isn’t meant to run on coffee, adrenaline, and grit. It is asking for actual energy, not more willpower.

You are not moody because you are broken, your blood sugar is begging for consistency.
Emotional stability isn’t just mindset work; it’s biology. You can’t stabilize your mood on an empty tank.

You are not craving sugar because you have no discipline - you need more meals.
Cravings are not moral failures. They are survival signals. Your body is trying to get your attention the only way it knows how.

You are not anxious because you’re dramatic - your nervous system is overworked.
When you are underfed, your brain lives in alert mode. Everything feels bigger and harder because your body does not feel safe.

You are not hungry because you are “too much” – you are human.
Hunger is not a flaw to fix. It’s a life-sustaining cue, one that we have all been conditioned to ignore.

Your body does not thrive on perfection.
It thrives on nourishment.
On steady meals.
On enough protein, fat, and carbs.
On stability instead of scarcity.

And nourishment doesn’t just support your hormones…
it supports your brain, your mood, your digestion, your sleep, your stress response - your whole life.

When you feed yourself adequately, everything else becomes easier.
Not because you have changed, but because your body finally has what it needs to show up for you.

If this sounds and feels like you…

You have been eating “well” but still feel:
• tired
• overwhelmed
• moody
• hungry at night
• disconnected from your body
• stuck in survival mode

You might not need a stricter plan.
You might simply need more support, more food, and more safety - not more rules.

This is exactly what I help women rebuild inside my work:
Hormone balance that starts with nourishment, nervous system safety, and slowing down enough to actually heal.

I write weekly about hormone balancing, nervous system healing, digestive and gut health, and everything in-between, inside my LinkedIn newsletter Regulate. Nourish. Thrive. Which you can subscribe to and get every new piece straight to your inbox.

If you want more gentle, honest conversations around nourishment, hormones, and nervous system healing, you can also follow me on Instagram, that’s where I share the day-to-day tools, reminders, and education that support this deeper work.

And if you are ready for deeper support, the kind that helps you rebuild your metabolism, soften your stress response, and actually feel good in your body again, this is exactly what we do inside The Hormone & Nervous System Reset. A grounded, step-by-step approach to eating enough, regulating your nervous system, and shifting your body out of survival mode.

Your body is not asking for perfection. Just presence and a little more food than you think.