There’s something that used to happen all the time when I worked as a waitress—and honestly, it still sticks with me.

I’d place a plate of food down in front of a woman—maybe something hearty, nourishing, and honestly, delicious—and more often than I’d like, someone else at the table (often of a similar age) would lean in with a disapproving chuckle: “That’s a lot of food!” “You’ll never eat all that!”
“Gosh, you’re brave ordering that!”

Sometimes it was said lightly, other times with a raised eyebrow. But the message was the same: Isn’t that too much for you?… It was usually said with a laugh, maybe a teasing nudge, but underneath the lightness was something heavier—a kind of judgment disguised as concern. And it always landed on the woman who dared to have… an appetite.

THE wonder of

At first, I’d smile politely. I’d laugh along, nod, and move on. That’s what we’re taught to do—be agreeable, keep it friendly. But inside, it never sat right. I started to realise how sad it was that so many women felt they had to make excuses for eating a proper meal, or felt the need to comment on someone else’s. I started to think about how my own sisters would feel if they were to be judged on their food choices- and how I would defend them wholeheartedly.

It hit me: These weren’t just offhand remarks. These were the echoes of a culture that has conditioned women to believe their hunger—physical or otherwise—should be small. Contained. Quiet.

After a while, I stopped going along with it. Instead of nodding, I’d say something like, “It’s full of good energy,” or “That plate is full of nutrients to make her sparkle.”

I wasn’t trying to be clever—I just wanted to offer a little reminder that food is fuel, and joy, and connection. That it’s okay—more than okay—to eat with enthusiasm.

To every woman:

Because here’s the truth: There is nothing shameful about feeding yourself well. There is nothing wrong with having an appetite. And there is absolutely no need to shrink for the sake of making others comfortable.

So, to every woman who’s ever second-guessed her order, or felt the sting of someone else’s comment: Please eat the meal. Savour it. Enjoy every bite.

You deserve it.

We all deserve to enjoy our food, to nourish our bodies, and to celebrate the simple joy of eating without guilt or judgment.

THE WONDER OF

Now that I’m a Mum

Now that I’m a mum— especially to a daughter, but also to sons— this hits even closer to home.

Because I don’t want my little girl growing up believing she has to eat less than she needs. I want her to know that food is not the enemy. It’s not something to earn or fear or judge. It’s her fuel. Her foundation. Her friend.

She needs every bit as much strength, power, and nourishment as her brothers. Not just to grow tall and strong, but to stay strong—through every stage of life.

She’ll need good food to power her through childhood play and teenage changes. Through school exams, changing hormones, and everything in between. She’ll need it to support healthy skin, a clear mind, and strong bones. One day, perhaps, through pregnancies, or long walks, or trail runs, or just living fully and energetically.

I want her to enjoy her meals without overthinking every bite. To understand that eating well isn’t about restriction—it’s about nourishment. I want her to take pride in feeding herself well, knowing she deserves to feel good in her body and confident in her choices.

And for my boys? I want them to grow up seeing this too. To respect women’s appetites—literal and figurative. To never question a woman’s plate or portion. To know that strength isn’t gendered, and that supporting one another’s health is never something to mock or measure.

The world may still whisper that a woman’s value is tied to how little space she takes up. But in our home, we’ll speak louder. We’ll celebrate food, energy, and strength—for all of us.

Because a well-fed woman is a powerful woman. And that’s exactly what I want my daughter to grow into.

Have You Noticed these Quiet Messages Around Food?

If you’re a parent—or even just someone reflecting on your own upbringing—have you noticed these quiet messages around food and worth? How are you navigating them with your kids, or unlearning them yourself?

Let’s share stories, ideas, and encouragement with one another. The more we talk about this, the more we can shift the narrative—for our daughters, our sons, and ourselves.

Follow our socials, or share this post with someone who might need the reminder:

You are allowed to eat. You are allowed to be strong. You are allowed to take up space. Let’s raise kids who believe that too.