Is Culture killing my trust in my body?

Last week, I shared my laundry disaster — how I ignored every internal warning about soaking a chocolate-striped bikini with a white linen shirt. The question haunting me as I stood there with bleach trying to fix it wasn’t “why on earth did I do that?” but “how did I become so good at ignoring my own expertise?”

The answer lies in a fresh look (for me anyway) at the world we’ve inherited. I don’t believe we stumble into this pattern of self-override by accident. We’re not stupid or incompetent for struggling with it. We live in a culture that has systematically taught us to distrust our own wisdom. So, in trying to understand these forces, I’m also trying to reclaim what I’ve lost — and to avoid bleaching any more clothes.

Are We Man or Machine?

Modern life has shaped us to see our bodies as machines that should run indefinitely without regular service. With better healthcare, longer lives, and prosperity, it feels natural to just plough on, right? Wrong. We’ve changed how we relate to our rhythms, and the results aren’t great.

For thousands of years, humans lived by the sun’s cycle, the seasons, the ebb and flow of energy. Then, quite suddenly in evolutionary terms, we needed bodies available when factories opened, no matter what our internal clocks said. The work shift — whenever it starts and ends these days — separated us from circadian rhythms that guided us for millennia.

These rhythms go beyond sleep disruption. They coordinate when your body expects to eat, digest, think clearly, and repair itself. Your body naturally rises and dips in energy and alertness throughout the day. When we override this with artificial schedules, we ignore a chorus of internal signals.

The language around productivity shows this misguided approach. “No pain, no gain” assumes discomfort signals progress. “Sleep when you’re dead” treats rest as laziness rather than essential recuperation. “Push through it” makes persistence the highest virtue, even when our bodies tell us to slow down.

These messages might come from good intentions, but they’ve created a culture where listening to your body feels silly. It’s not.

The Industries of Disconnection

Some of our disconnection comes from industries that profit by telling us what to do rather than teaching us to trust what we already know. Take the diet industry — they’ve built a multi-billion-dollar empire convincing us our hunger cues are broken, that we need external rules to manage something our bodies have done successfully for millions of years.

There’s nothing your body understands better than how to eat. When I holiday in Greece, I start with easy tourist staples — Greek salad, grilled meat — delicious and good for you. After a few days, my body craves the local market’s bounty: fresh green beans, zucchini, aubergine, and a salad of ripe peaches, tomatoes, and cherries tossed with herbs from my balcony. My appetite knows exactly what it needs — variety, nutrients, fresh, seasonal flavours.

But the diet industry convinces people that the same grilled chicken and lettuce is working wonders because the points stack up correctly. They reduce the magnificent complexity of nourishment to calories and apps. They’re killing great local cuisine as people default to eating the same thing everyone else does, and local tourist providers do too (but I digress).

There’s profit in that disconnection. When you trust your body’s signals, you don’t need their app. When you have confidence in your wisdom, you don’t need their complicated rules or daily validation. Which big business wants that?

Social media works the same way. Since quitting Facebook in 2012 and Instagram in 2020, I’m more in tune with what’s going on inside me, rather than getting caught up in someone else’s morning routine that may or may not work for me. I still access information when I need it but now I learn to discern and experiment with what actually suits me.

You can see how profound the effect is when industries profit from your disconnection rather than your self-knowledge.

The Medical Paradox

Modern healthcare is a marvel, but is it helping us tune into our wisdom or is it asking us to tolerate symptoms until medical intervention becomes necessary?

Just last week, my aunt went to a doctor with blood in her bowel movements. His response? She could have an endoscopy at his surgery in 18 months. She’s been a patient there for 20 years. How serious must it get before someone listens to a clear sign that all might not be well? Don’t fret, she’s gone elsewhere.

Pain is information to decode, but how many of us just reach for a painkiller? Fatigue signals we need rest. So why are we programmed to override it? Stress is a message that something needs attention, so why are we taught to “manage” stress? Blood in your stool, excessive sweating, persistent rashes — your body says “pay attention,” so why are we encouraged to ignore it?

If we just pop a pill every time something hurts, we lose the ability to understand our body’s messages.

The Innocent Programming

We learn to override our bodies very early. School requires kids to sit still, eat on schedule regardless of hunger, and ignore their body’s signals to move or stretch until break times. I get that teachers manage complex environments, but the message kids absorb is clear: your internal guidance system isn’t trustworthy.

It took me until 45, during lockdown, to realise I can’t sit still and focus for more than about 35 minutes. I was taught this was a problem and would force myself to sit for hours. Then I got frustrated when I became sedentary. Only now do I work in 30-minute bursts. My body gives perfectly good information once I let it do its thing, naturally. My workflow has never been better.

Imagine if we taught children differently. What if instead of “sit still and focus,” we said, “notice when your body needs to move and let’s work with that”? What if we helped kids recognise hunger cues instead of eating by the clock? What if we taught them their body’s signals are valuable information, not interruptions?

Half my job is helping adults unlearn this programming. How much easier would it be if we didn’t teach it?

Digital Anaesthesia

Don’t get me started on how we numb ourselves to uncomfortable sensations and emotions. I wish I could get back the hours of endless scrolling I used to relieve anxiety, solitude, or intense thoughts. I’ve deleted and reinstalled apps to avoid becoming an expert at avoiding myself — which doesn’t make sense as a sentence or a life strategy.

I also don’t understand giving my bodily awareness to machines. I walk until I want to turn around. I judge my sleep quality when I wake. Why do I need an app telling me about my REM cycles, my step count, or buzzing to drink water? Algorithms can’t tell you more than you already know. You probably know you need more water, to get to bed earlier, to walk more. Is it really more complex than that?

We live in an era of unprecedented access to health info, yet we hand it over to devices instead of turning it on ourselves and asking: Do I need to move or rest? Is my heart rate up because of anxiety and what’s causing it? Do I know or do I need help? We’ve given our trust to devices, yet the intel we need is inside — in waking depleted, slumping energy, ongoing anxiety, the ache from being hunched over my laptop. Do I need an app to tell me that?

Your beautifully patient body

With all these influences, how could you not be disconnected from the signs you need to govern yourself to marvellous health? Dear woman, it’s not your fault you’re out of tune with your brilliant instinctive wisdom.

The beautiful thing about your body is its endless patience. No matter how long you’ve ignored its signals, it keeps sending them, trying to help you optimise health, energy, and wellbeing. It’s been waiting for you to tune back in.

Research shows people in industrialised societies have poorer interoception — sensing internal signals — than those in traditional cultures. We’ve lost some fluency in our body’s language, and poor interoception contributes to anxiety, depression, and chronic disease.

The good news is this disconnection isn’t permanent. Neuroplasticity that helped us adapt to modern life can help us reclaim internal wisdom. The signals are still there, guiding us to better health and clearer decisions. We just need to remember how to listen.

Next week: Practical surprisingly simple approaches that can transform how you feel within days.