rediscovering the joy of cooking as an intuitive eater

Ever flip through a cookbook and feel your stomach drop—not from hunger, but from guilt? I used to avoid cookbooks altogether or read them like forbidden novels, dreaming about chocolate cake or fresh-baked bread like they were guilty pleasures I didn’t deserve.

But once I began practicing Intuitive Eating, something changed. Cookbooks became inspiring again. The guilt faded, and I was finally able to look at food—and cooking—through a lens of joy, not judgment.

the cookbook dilemma

In my dieting years, cookbooks were both my fantasy and my secret shame. I’d flip through glossy pages, imagining the taste of foods I “wasn’t allowed” to have. Rich pastas, flaky croissants, homemade breads—I devoured the visuals and mentally filed them away under “someday... when I’m thinner.”

Reading cookbooks became a form of food voyeurism. The more I restricted, the more obsessed I became. I was jealous of people who could cook and eat freely, and angry at myself for always “needing” to be on a diet. This toxic cycle turned something as innocent as a recipe into a trigger for guilt, bingeing, and yet another Day 1.

shifting how I saw food

When I started unlearning food rules through Intuitive Eating, cookbooks took on a new role. They weren’t temptation or torture anymore—they were invitations.

I stopped categorizing recipes as “good” or “bad” and started asking myself:

• Does this look satisfying?

• Would this feel good in my body right now?

• Am I curious about how this would taste, or how it’s made?

Without restriction, the foods I actually craved changed. I found myself drawn to bright, nourishing meals full of color, texture, and flavor—not because I “should,” but because I wanted them. And yes, sometimes that meant chocolate cake, but more often, it meant fresh herbs, roasted veggies, crusty sourdough, or a dreamy tahini sauce.

bringing curiosity back into the kitchen

Here are a few ways you can reconnect with the joy of cooking—even if food still feels complicated:

mindful reading

Instead of obsessing over what you “shouldn’t” eat, notice what excites you. Explore ingredients, textures, or techniques that spark curiosity.

experimentation over perfection

Try the recipe. Mess it up. Laugh about it. Try again. Cooking isn’t about performance—it's about play.

create personal rituals

Light a candle. Play music. Use the cute plate. These small rituals turn cooking into a grounding, joyful experience.

focus on nourishment and pleasure

It’s okay to eat food that tastes good just because it tastes good. Let your meals satisfy you on multiple levels—physically, emotionally, creatively.

share the experience

Cooking with (or for) someone else can deepen your relationship with food and connection. Even a solo meal can be a celebration if you treat it like one.

from guilt to joy

One of my favorite moments was baking homemade pita for the first time—something I used to avoid like the plague. The smell of the dough rising, the golden puffs from the oven, that warm first bite... I was smiling and dancing in my kitchen. Not because it was perfect, but because it was mine. I had made something delicious—and allowed myself to enjoy it.

Now, cookbooks feel like creative companions. They’re not about what I can’t have. They’re about what I can create. Each recipe is an opportunity to honor my hunger, get curious, and feed myself with care and intention.

So the next time you crack open a cookbook, don’t focus on what’s off-limits. Ask yourself what excites you. What would feel good right now? Then roll up your sleeves and enjoy the process—no guilt required.