The Dark Side of Optimizing Your Metabolism: When Wearables Become a Weight on the Soul
For wellness enthusiasts, the promise of optimizing one's metabolism is like a siren song - beckoning us to try new gadgets, supplements, and diets that swear to fix our metabolic woes. The latest wearable craze, continuous glucose monitors (CGMs), has taken this trend to dizzying heights, with influencers touting their benefits for anyone looking to shed pounds or just stay healthy.
But beneath the buzzwords and before-the-bell hype, lies a more sinister reality - one that sees these devices turning into tools of torture rather than liberation. For those who don't struggle with diabetes or prediabetes, CGMs can be a godsend, helping people track their glucose levels and make informed decisions about their diet.
However, for those like me, who have learned to live with the specter of weight gain and metabolic issues, wearing these gadgets during holidays becomes an exercise in emotional gymnastics. It's the constant battle to keep our platefuls tidy, guilt-free indulgences at bay, lest our glucose levels soar into uncharted territory. The pressure is crushing - can we indulge just once? Will it wreck our entire holiday?
The trap lies not only in how these devices monitor but also in how they reinforce our own self-censorship and emotional policing. Using CGMs becomes an attempt to micromanage every morsel that goes into our bodies, stripping away what's left of the joy in eating. It's akin to a never-ending game of diet roulette, where losing weight is seen as a prize worth risking one's happiness.
I remember Thanksgiving dinner last year - I'd donned my CGM, curious about how it would track my glucose levels during those carefully loaded plates. My relatives were intrigued but cautiously supportive. But what they didn't know was that this new device had become the first thing on my mind as I devoured each dish, scrutinizing every spoonful with an eagle eye.
This wasn't a straightforward exercise in healthy eating; it was more about performance - the performance of being 'good', not just in front of others but also for myself. The guilt and anxiety that followed were palpable. And when my aunt asked me to have another slice, I checked the CGM apps frantically, trying to swing a second plate into my favor.
It took months to realize this wasn't about health but control - an attempt to use technology as a tool of manipulation rather than liberation. My weight loss had plateaued and anxiety had reasserted itself.
The reality is - optimizing your metabolism isn't something that can be done with gadgets alone; it requires a deeper understanding of oneself, what makes you happy and fulfilled. For those of us trying to live healthy lives, the real challenge lies not in how we track our glucose levels or cut out certain foods but in cultivating self-compassion, allowing ourselves space for life's little indulgences and learning to love the company of others over our own self-control.
By acknowledging this dark side, perhaps we can use CGMs more critically - as tools that should be used with caution, not zealotry.
For wellness enthusiasts, the promise of optimizing one's metabolism is like a siren song - beckoning us to try new gadgets, supplements, and diets that swear to fix our metabolic woes. The latest wearable craze, continuous glucose monitors (CGMs), has taken this trend to dizzying heights, with influencers touting their benefits for anyone looking to shed pounds or just stay healthy.
But beneath the buzzwords and before-the-bell hype, lies a more sinister reality - one that sees these devices turning into tools of torture rather than liberation. For those who don't struggle with diabetes or prediabetes, CGMs can be a godsend, helping people track their glucose levels and make informed decisions about their diet.
However, for those like me, who have learned to live with the specter of weight gain and metabolic issues, wearing these gadgets during holidays becomes an exercise in emotional gymnastics. It's the constant battle to keep our platefuls tidy, guilt-free indulgences at bay, lest our glucose levels soar into uncharted territory. The pressure is crushing - can we indulge just once? Will it wreck our entire holiday?
The trap lies not only in how these devices monitor but also in how they reinforce our own self-censorship and emotional policing. Using CGMs becomes an attempt to micromanage every morsel that goes into our bodies, stripping away what's left of the joy in eating. It's akin to a never-ending game of diet roulette, where losing weight is seen as a prize worth risking one's happiness.
I remember Thanksgiving dinner last year - I'd donned my CGM, curious about how it would track my glucose levels during those carefully loaded plates. My relatives were intrigued but cautiously supportive. But what they didn't know was that this new device had become the first thing on my mind as I devoured each dish, scrutinizing every spoonful with an eagle eye.
This wasn't a straightforward exercise in healthy eating; it was more about performance - the performance of being 'good', not just in front of others but also for myself. The guilt and anxiety that followed were palpable. And when my aunt asked me to have another slice, I checked the CGM apps frantically, trying to swing a second plate into my favor.
It took months to realize this wasn't about health but control - an attempt to use technology as a tool of manipulation rather than liberation. My weight loss had plateaued and anxiety had reasserted itself.
The reality is - optimizing your metabolism isn't something that can be done with gadgets alone; it requires a deeper understanding of oneself, what makes you happy and fulfilled. For those of us trying to live healthy lives, the real challenge lies not in how we track our glucose levels or cut out certain foods but in cultivating self-compassion, allowing ourselves space for life's little indulgences and learning to love the company of others over our own self-control.
By acknowledging this dark side, perhaps we can use CGMs more critically - as tools that should be used with caution, not zealotry.