Our society often shows a strong preference for clear distinctions between good and bad—especially in the stories we tell. Movies, books, and even children's cartoons tend to feature obvious heroes and clear-cut villains. Superhero films like Spider-Man or The Avengers portray their protagonists as noble defenders of justice and their enemies as irredeemable embodiments of evil. These stories are compelling because they make morality easy to digest. They reduce complex issues into simple binaries where good always triumphs over evil.
This black-and-white way of thinking doesn’t just stay in Hollywood—it seeps into how we view the world, and it deeply influences how we approach health, especially food. We label foods the same way we label characters in stories: some are heroes, some are villains. “Healthy” vs. “cheat” food. “Lean” vs. “fatty.” These labels create a moral hierarchy that’s not only misleading but also emotionally damaging. We’ve applied a moral compass where it doesn’t belong.
But here’s the truth– it’s not the food’s fault.
Food is not inherently good or bad. It’s context-dependent. For some people, eating meat may be problematic for health, ethical, or environmental reasons. Others might avoid dairy due to lactose intolerance or ethical choices. Some people can’t tolerate gluten or soy. For them, these foods might need to be limited or avoided—but that doesn’t make those foods bad for everyone. In fact, for others, those same foods can be incredibly nourishing and supportive. The value of a food depends on the individual, their body, their needs, and their goals.
I often hear pushback when I talk about rejecting “good vs. bad” food labels. People say things like, “You can’t seriously believe that processed foods with artificial ingredients are good to eat.” But they’re missing the point. We’re not debating whether ultra-processed foods are more nutrient-dense than whole foods—most people agree they’re not. What we’re challenging is the moral judgment attached to eating them. A food being less nutritious does not automatically make it “bad.”
Sometimes even the most celebrated foods aren’t a good fit for everyone. I eat eggs every morning. They’re a complete protein and a great source of vitamins, minerals, and healthy fats—for me. But for someone with high cholesterol, egg sensitivity, or difficulty digesting protein, that same breakfast might not be their best choice. Does that make eggs “bad”? No. It means they aren’t a good option for that individual. We need to make room for personal nuance in how we evaluate food.
Diet culture thrives on binary thinking because it’s easy to market. Clear rules feel safe. If someone tells you that carbs are bad, sugar is evil, or fat is the enemy, it gives you a simple roadmap to follow. But real nutrition doesn’t work that way. It’s not about rigid rules—it’s about learning to listen to your body and meeting it where it is.
That doesn’t mean we throw all nutritional wisdom out the window. I’m not going to suggest that hot dogs become your primary source of protein. But if you’re at a summer barbecue and that’s your option, eating one doesn’t make you a bad person or someone who “messed up” their day. You still gave your body protein. You fed yourself. And in some seasons of life, that’s what matters most.
At the end of the day, we have to make choices that serve our own bodies well—not choices based on food fear, shame, or social expectations. Whole, minimally processed foods are great tools to help meet nutritional goals. But convenience foods can also serve a purpose, especially when time, energy, or accessibility is limited. Eating something “imperfect” is often far better than eating nothing at all.
And sometimes, the problem isn’t even about food. If your goal is to feel your best—whether that means being more energized, improving your digestion, or performing at your sport—you also need to look beyond what’s on your plate. Are you getting enough sleep? Are you moving your body in a way that feels good? Are you spending time in meaningful relationships? Are you overwhelmed by stress, screen time, or social comparison? Are you making space for quiet, rest, or reflection?
If you want to be lean, strong, or just overall healthy, you’ve got to stop judging yourself (and your food) so harshly. There are no absolute rules when it comes to creating a balanced, nourishing diet. What works for one person might not work for another. Your health journey is yours alone, and it deserves to be approached with flexibility, curiosity, and grace.
So instead of obsessing over whether a food is “clean,” “keto,” or “whole 30-approved,” ask yourself: Does this serve me? Does it align with my goals, my body, my values? If the answer is yes—even if it’s a store-bought protein bar or a scoop of ice cream—then that food has a place in your diet.
Let’s stop letting diet culture assign moral value to what we eat. Focus on what supports your body and your life as a whole. Food is just one part of the bigger picture.
In the end, labeling food as “good” or “bad” oversimplifies the complex, deeply personal nature of health and wellness. Instead of letting rigid rules or social narratives define our choices, we should aim for flexibility, self-awareness, and balance. Nutrition is not a moral issue—it’s a practical tool, a form of self-care, and a way to support your unique goals and circumstances.
Let’s shift the conversation—from restriction to nourishment, from judgment to curiosity, and from shame to self-compassion.
