I ate clean for a month and my taste buds didn't go on a dharna

And it saved my bank account, too

If I could Pavlov myself into losing weight, I would’ve done that the minute the scale started moving to the right. Like a lot of people, I too have been in a complicated relationship with my body. I’ve never been lean; my full cheeks and small eyes have made me the lifelong recipient of “Oh, you’re so cute!” compliments—right from when I was one second old to now, standing on the cusp of 27. The baby fat? Still here. Clinging to my cheeks, booty, stomach, and thighs like it has separation anxiety.

Growing up, my weight shaped the way I saw myself, but I was never entirely unhappy with it. Puberty didn’t transform me into a lean, radiant swan—it hit me like a freight train and sent my glow-up light years into the future. I was a textbook wallflower, much like Penelope from Bridgerton (complete with a secret crush on my own Colin). And yet, I was okay with being a petite, mid-sized, curvy girl—until my body hit me with a reality check. They don’t lie about all of it going downhill after you turn 25. A two-month delay in my menstrual cycle sent my anxiety levels skyrocketing to Pluto. There was no chance of an accidental pregnancy so that left stress, weight, or PCOS as the likely culprits. After a series of blood tests and consultations, the verdict was in: my weight was messing with my hormones. And my doctor’s expression was clear—ma’am, it’s time to get it together.

So, I did the unthinkable—I consulted a nutritionist. I braced myself for being haunted by nightmares of boiled broccoli and bland lauki, but surprisingly, I adapted. My cravings stopped running the show, my meals became more intentional, and as a bonus, I even saved some money. Who knew mindful eating could be a financial hack too? Here’s how my healthy-eating streak went.

Four weeks of healthy eating changed my mind (and body) about being on a diet

Week 1: Mind over matter

You don’t realise how appealing the orange-coloured manchurian and Chinese bhel, which can wreck your gut, become when you can’t eat them. You wouldn’t have eaten them before anyway, but now they’re forbidden fruit and therefore just irresistible. The first order of healthy eating—cut out sugar, grease and calorie-dense foods, and put a taala on Zomato and Swiggy. When you stop the excess sodium, cheese and oil from entering your system, psychologically you crave them more because the ingredients in fried and greasy food satisfy the pleasure centre of your brain and make you feel better. My taste buds cried a little during the first two days while I stuffed myself with sautéed veggies with minimal seasoning and drank a bowl of soup. I missed my dal-rice and watching my parents eat it was torturous, I wanted to snatch their plate and found myself sneaking creepy glances at the food like I was Joe from You.

It was tough. My defence? Distraction. To avoid getting seduced by the gluttonous treats everyone around me suddenly seemed to be having, I hyped up my boring (read healthy) lunches and dinners and told myself this would all be worth it when I finally went to Thailand later in the year and ate whatever I pleased. If I felt hungry, I ate fruit or the healthy snack options I had, and immediately diverted my mind from invading the pack of Blue Lays. But then the weekend came and my family decided to order in malvani chicken rassa and fried bombil (Bombay Duck), the popular coastal cuisine from the Konkan region of Maharashtra, that ranks very high on my list of favourite foods. I came very close to failing the diet and feasting on the bombil like there was no tomorrow. But I quietly picked my bowl of daliya pulao, kept my eyes glued to the raita and finished my meal at record speed just so I could get up and leave the table. By the end of the first week, I was proud of just making it through despite the many opportunities to cheat. My body didn’t feel like it was a temple dedicated to carbs, I felt better internally.

Week 2: Befriending protein and balancing my plate

I used to be one of those people, the ones who believed protein was strictly for gym bros who deadlift at dawn and chug protein shakes to sculpt boulder-sized biceps. Turns out, I was wildly mistaken. Protein isn’t just for aspiring bodybuilders; it’s essential for building lean muscle, burning fat, and—most importantly—keeping you from gnawing off your own arm between meals. Earlier, all my meals were carb-heavy with little to no protein so I used to get hungry between breakfast, lunch and dinner. As a result, I found myself reaching for the Swiggy Instamart app on my phone frequently to order chips, Diet Coke or just a Dairy Milk. I was stuck in a spiral of sugar spikes because I wasn’t eating enough nutrient-dense food, and the only solid thing I was building was a tower of unhealthy fat and cholesterol.

Luckily, that changed once I learnt the fine art of meal balancing. My breakfasts were more protein heavy so my mid-morning fruit was enough to tide me over till the lunch hour. Usually, I love my chicken popcorn and butter-garlic prawns, but when it comes to daily meals, I love my bell peppers and beans more. Adding meat to every meal was out of the question, I made dahi and buttermilk my protein knights. My meals were now a healthy mix of protein, enough fibre to keep things…moving, healthy fats to prevent sugar spikes, and just enough carbs to avoid turning me into a cranky monster and fuel myself to write that article I’d been procrastinating. I would feel so full post-lunch that I didn’t even feel like taking a bite of the cheesy garlic bread my colleagues once ordered as a post-lunch snack. Frankly, I didn’t have space in my stomach and I was in no mood to overeat. I stuck to a piece of dark chocolate (70% and up) post-meals for the sweet cravings, and surprisingly, my taste buds didn’t file a harassment complaint.

Week 3: Venturing out into the world of temptations

By now, I wasn’t just surviving this lifestyle—I was living it. Cravings still showed up like uninvited atithis, but I knew how to handle them. I had avoided any and all social plans like a ninja for two weeks so I didn’t have to eat out but I couldn’t possibly hole up in the house or be a party pooper forever. Having fun wasn’t banned from my daily diet.

So when my colleagues planned a post-work debrief, I didn’t back out. While they twirled their forks around in a plate of aglio-olio pasta, with coke fizzing at the side, I sipped on my almond milk cappuccino and ate a plate of sautéed veggies, sprinkled with generous amounts of gossip. I was determined to stay away from bread and maida at all costs and to my own surprise I did (barring a small bite of garlic bread I allowed myself to eat). Exposure therapy works guys because I didn’t salivate at the sight of my favourite pasta. I went home that night, made myself a glass of thin buttermilk and went to sleep; happy, full and at peace that I hadn’t given in.

Week 4: The real test of the taste buds

Week four came with a delightful change, my diet allowed me to eat roti-sabzi. Of course, it was soybean flour roti with plenty of sabzi and the non-negotiable salad, but I was excited. Then the universe apparently saw my resolve and contentment and decided this was the week to throw multiple curveballs my way. First up—a music festival, where ‘healthy’ was nowhere to be found. Faced with an army of fried foods and sugary cocktails, I did my best: a low-calorie drink and some rice with chicken. Luckily, the 15,000 steps I clocked that day helped balance things out. Next, an even bigger test—my relatives arrived with an assortment of mithai to tell us my cousin was getting married later in the year. I had to dodge taking even one bite of the delicious mithai with every fibre of my being. But I stood firm. Success was mine to taste (instead of the gulab jamun).

Four weeks in, I feel lighter, energised—and I’m two kilos lighter. My skin looks like it’s healing, the intense cravings for a three-tier chocolate mousse and a McDonalds meal during PMS seem to have vanished too. The best part? I’ve realised that eating healthy isn’t a punishment, it’s about making choices that serve me better, and finding a balance. Ordering in and eating out is a convenience and it’s tough to stop yourself from binging on food that’ll make you feel good when it’s just a click away. But I realised that joy is short-term. Eating the veggies, and staying away from the fried and the fizzy will make you feel better long-term, which is what my goal is for my body. And sure, there will be days when my body will throw a temper tantrum and I’ll have to give it the peri-peri fries it craves. But at least now, I know that won’t be the case every week.

I’m currently on day five of week four, and just when I thought I had everything under control, the lights went out. In the office and on my well-managed streak of healthy eating. A short circuit left us without power and (microwave) heat, so we collectively decided to abandon ship and head to the South Indian restaurant nearby for lunch. Now, the real question: Can I resist the urge to inhale a steaming bowl of sambar with a crisp, paper-thin dosa? Or will I cave and embrace my first official cheat meal? Only the next hour will tell. This could be my greatest moment of self-control or a very delicious downfall.