I Don't Like It, But It's Good For Me

On Accepting Inconvenience

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Introduction

About 6 weeks ago, I started to get a few jabbing headaches throughout my day. They weren’t intense, but painful enough to make me pause. Add in some nagging shoulder pain, and I figured it was time to see a doctor. After some bloodwork, the results came back: mostly good news. But a few numbers caught my doctor’s attention. With a family history of diabetes and hypertension, he wasn’t surprised. “You’re early in the process,” he said, “so no need for heavy medication, yet. But you’ll need to make some changes.”

Then came the list: no flour, no pasta, no sweets for three months. I looked at him and said, “Well… I don’t like it, but I guess it’s good for me.” He wasn’t finished. “Also, no caffeine, more salads, and cut the fried foods.” I nodded, but inside I was thinking, “He’s out of his mind!” I left the doctor’s office feeling a bit puzzled. I wanted my health to get better, but not at the expense of my tastebuds.

Over the next few days, the headaches intensified. I felt dizzy sometimes and I was entering panic mode at some points. I think I was more anxious than sick. So, I started my temporary changes. I planned my meals carefully and created a meal plan with the new restrictions. For the first few days, it was awful.

Photo by Chantal Garnier on Unsplash

Lettuce Change

I like salads. I’m vegetarian, after all. Most of the meals I cook include vegetables in one form or another. They’re often, however, paired with something salty or carb-heavy—foods I didn’t realize were quietly killing me from the inside. Within days, my meals became rigid: yogurt, nuts, beans, boiled eggs, lentils, and plenty of leafy greens. The change was evident. I lost 5 pounds in 3 days. It was good for me, no doubt. Yet, I was suffering, inside and out. My body went through withdrawals. I felt foggy, irritable, and constantly hungry for something crunchy or sweet.

This, I think, is the hardest part of change, whether it’s physical or mental. Most smartphone users who switch to a dumbphone know it’s better for them, but it feels strange. Too quiet. Too healthy. Just like my stomach adjusting to life without added sugar or caffeine. I knew it was good for me, but I didn’t like it. Over dinner at a friend’s house, I had to rely on my good old friend willpower to say no to their delicious cupcakes. That’s when I knew that I wasn’t adopting a new lifestyle. Instead, I was just trying to get by.

It’s been six years since I began my digital minimalism journey. Over time, I’ve come to recognize a kind of path, or “levels,” that many of us walk through as we try to reclaim our time and attention. These are as follows:

1. Use Hacks: Screen time app blockers like Bloom or Foqos. Helpful at first, but eventually, they stop working. (This is where I am in my health journey.)

2. The Weekend Method: A simple phone for weekends, smartphone for weekdays. A breath of fresh air—until Monday rolls around.

3. Dual Phones: One number for work, one for personal. You carry the work phone only when you need it.

4. The Big Change: You rethink your job, your schedule, your lifestyle. You make space for less tech, every day.

5. Lifestyle Minimalism: Finally, it becomes a way of life. You stop chasing the latest tech. You adopt what serves you and let go of what doesn’t.

Having this framework has helped me realize that in my health journey, I’m still at step one. I’m using hacks—cutting out sugar, avoiding flour, skipping caffeine—but it hasn’t yet become a fully integrated lifestyle. I’m managing symptoms, not transforming habits. In other words, there is more to come.

Photo by Laurenz Notter on Unsplash

The Fruits of my labor

It’s been a tough six weeks. My grandfather passed away, the new diet, and I’ve been traveling for a friend’s wedding, not exactly the most stable environment for making lifestyle changes. And yet, I’ve held steady. Despite the temptations of Deutsche Delikatessen, I’ve mostly stuck to my plan: Tegut’s vegetable spreads (Streichcreme), fresh produce, and tea. I’m down 10 pounds and feeling more energized than I have in years. Honestly, my body feels like it did back in my university days.

Mentally, I’m clearer too. During this trip, I’ve limited work access between 18:00–21:00 hours. The Light Phone 3 has held up surprisingly well across Europe, even without WhatsApp. It’s felt good to step out of the 9-5 and embrace work in a different rhythm. I did slip a little on the wedding day. At 4 o’clock, there’s a German tradition called Kaffee und Kuchen—coffee and cake—and my eyes betrayed me. I had a few too many slices, and soon after, my head was pounding. A loss of sorts, but it was a good reminder: my body is changing, and so are my cravings. My taste buds want fiber, not fat. And that’s a delicious sign I’m heading in the right direction.

To be frank, the results are coming faster than I expected. I thought I would make some progress, but not as much as I have so far. At this rate, I will reach my health goals right on time for the three-month mark. This whole ordeal has been a powerful reminder: we may be fragile, but we’re far from helpless.

Photo by Roman Kraft on Unsplash

Tasting the Difference

If you’re in the middle of a change—whether it’s your health, your habits, or your relationship with technology—know this: it’s okay if it feels uncomfortable. New habits rarely begin with ease. They often start with you asking, “Is this even worth it?”

But if you stay with it, life begins to shift. The cravings fade. The fog lifts. The things you thought you couldn’t live without start to loosen their grip. And slowly, you begin to win. You become more present, more in control—more of who you want to be, and less of what the algorithms are shaping you to be.

So if you’re in the thick of it—like I am with my health—keep going. You’re not just enduring change. You’re becoming someone new because of it.

And soon, you won’t just see the difference.

You’ll taste it.