Vania Phitidis
Written by Vania Phitidis
Peaceful Eating Coach
Last updated on 31 July 2026
Reading time: 4 minutes

Recently, a conversation with a client got me thinking about freedom.

She was reflecting on how freeing it had felt to spend time in spaces where people were less constrained by mainstream expectations about how they should look, behave or present themselves.

What struck me was that the freedom she described was about no longer constantly measuring herself against a set of rules about who she should be.

The question shifted from:

“Am I doing this right?”

to:

“What do I actually want?”

That is a much bigger question than it first appears.

Because how much of what we want is genuinely ours?

And how much has been shaped by the world around us?

We are surrounded by messages about who we should be.

How we should look.

How we should age.

How much space we should take up.

What makes us attractive.

What makes us successful.

What makes us worthy.

Many of these messages are so familiar that they can feel like common sense. They can feel like our own preferences and choices.

But they did not appear from nowhere.

They have been shaped by culture, by history, by economics, by politics and by the systems we live within.

This is something I think about a lot in relation to diet culture.

We often talk about dieting as though it is simply an individual choice.

Someone decides they want to lose weight.

Someone decides they want to eat “better”.

Someone decides they need to work harder on themselves.

But where did those desires come from?

Who taught us that certain bodies are more acceptable than others?

Who taught us that our hunger needs to be controlled?

Who taught us that changing our bodies is something we should always be working towards?

One question I sometimes ask clients is:

Who benefits from you believing this?

Not because the thought is silly or because we should dismiss it.

Usually, these thoughts make complete sense when we understand the culture we live in.

But the question creates some space.

If I believe:

“I need to lose weight before I can enjoy my life.”

Who benefits from me believing that?

If I believe:

“I will feel more confident when my body changes.”

Who benefits from me believing that?

If I believe:

“I need to improve myself before I can feel comfortable being seen.”

Who benefits from that belief?

This is not about finding a single person or group responsible for every difficult feeling we have.

It is about recognising that we live in a culture that often profits from our sense of not being quite enough.

There is a lot of money to be made from dissatisfaction.

From convincing us that our bodies need fixing.

Our appearance needs improving.

Our food choices need managing.

Our lives need optimising.

And this is not only about women’s bodies, although women have been particularly targeted by beauty standards and diet culture for generations.

Many of us are living under constant pressure to become a better version of ourselves.

More productive.

More attractive.

Healthier.

More successful.

More disciplined.

It can become exhausting.

Because when we are constantly focused on improving ourselves, we have less energy to question the standards we are trying to meet — and the systems that created them.

We are so busy asking:

“How do I fix myself?”

that we don’t always get the chance to ask:

“Why was I taught that I needed fixing in the first place?”

This does not mean we stop caring about our appearance or our health.

People can enjoy clothes, beauty, exercise, cooking, creativity and self-expression. There is nothing wrong with wanting things or enjoying changing things.

The question is whether those choices feel free.

Or whether they feel like something we have to do in order to earn acceptance.

I see a similar process in my work with food.

Many people come wanting to stop bingeing, stop feeling guilty, or stop thinking about food all the time.

But underneath those struggles are often deeper beliefs:

I should have more control.

I should be better at this.

I should be different.

And sometimes the work is not just about changing the relationship with food.

It is about becoming curious about the rules we have absorbed.

Where did they come from?

Do they actually serve us?

What would life look like if we spent less energy trying to become acceptable and more energy being present for the life we already have?

Perhaps freedom is not about rejecting everything we have been taught.

It is about becoming more aware of what we have been taught, where those messages came from, and who ultimately benefits from us continuing to believe them.

And then deciding, with more choice, what we want to keep.

With love from Vania