prickly oxheart

You're Not Hungry. You're Scared to Want.

They call it discipline. Precision. Biofeedback. But the truth is: most of what passes for control is just fear with a Fitbit.

I spent years trying to eat like a spreadsheet. Optimised. Measured. Rational. As if my body were a problem to solve and not a landscape to inhabit. As if regulating my hunger made me worthy.

The trick I used — one I thought I invented — was the “cheat day”. Six days of austerity. One day off-leash. It felt genius: ritualised rebellion, calendar-sanctioned indulgence. I’d write my cravings down on a folded scrap of paper — a tactical delay. Not now. Later. Maybe.

It worked. Kind of. But only because it played by the same sick rules: hunger is dangerous, desire must be deferred, freedom has to be earned.

That paper in my wallet? It wasn’t strategy. It was a bribe.

Every little rule was a spell to keep the beast inside from breaking character.

But here's what no one tells you: hunger doesn’t disappear when you regulate it. It shapeshifts. Into shame. Into silence. Into constant negotiation. You think you're managing it — but really, you're managing yourself out of being fully alive.

Eventually, I stopped needing the list. Not because I transcended craving, but because I got tired of pretending to be someone who could.

Letting go of control didn’t make me messy. It made me honest.

There’s no such thing as a cheat day. There’s just the day you admit that control was never safety — only performance.

And most of us would rather manage hunger than face what it’s pointing at:

You're not hungry. You're scared to want.

#This is not a How-to