How We Talk About Food Shapes More Than We Realise

A Bakery, a Honey Scroll, and a Realisation

One of my favourite jobs was working at a local sourdough bakery. I did this for about three years while studying at university, and during that time, I was also working through my own struggles with disordered eating—patterns that had started in my teenage years.

The best part of the job was taking home endless goodies and dropping off the most delicious pastries and fresh sourdough to my friends. I also began to love bread again.

The Power of Casual Comments

This was my second job in customer service, and it didn’t take long to realise how people reveal more about themselves than they ever intend—often in the simplest of moments. It became a common occurrence: someone would eye the honey scroll, sigh, and say something like, “I really shouldn’t… but I worked out this morning, so I deserve it.”

At 19, I saw these comments as normal. But as I became more aware of my own disordered eating, they started to deeply frustrate me. Many of these customers—often middle-aged parents—lacked a filter when making self-deprecating or guilt-ridden comments about food. Did they not realise how these remarks might influence their children’s perceptions of food and body image?

How Words Shape Our Relationship with Food

There is a well-established link between disordered eating behaviours and the way influential figures—particularly maternal ones—discuss food, weight, and body image. Whether consciously or unconsciously, these messages become deeply ingrained, shaping how young people view themselves and their bodies.

Food, in its essence, does not hold moral value. There is no ‘good’ or ‘bad’ food—it’s just food. Yet, we have been conditioned to categorise what we eat in ways that extend far beyond nutrition. ‘Clean’ eating is praised, while ‘junk’ food is vilified. But these labels don’t just stay on the plate; they attach themselves to our self-worth.

For many, this mindset leads to restrictive eating habits—not because it’s what truly makes them feel best, but because they have internalised the idea that eating ‘bad’ food makes them bad. This is how food morality feeds into disordered eating, self-doubt, and anxiety.

The Dangerous Link Between Morality and Food

In a society where being fat is treated as neglecting one’s body—something as shameful as being unclean or irresponsible—it’s no surprise that control, virtue, and goodness have become tied to thinness. And with that comes the illusion that making the ‘right’ food choices—choosing the ‘good’ food—brings you closer to that ideal.

But when we assign morality to food, we create unnecessary shame around something that is fundamental to survival and joy. This is particularly stressful and exhausting for someone who struggles with disordered eating.

For many, it’s a slippery slope. Orthorexia, a condition characterised by an obsession with eating ‘pure’ or ‘clean’ foods, is one of the many ways food morality can spiral into something dangerous. What starts as an effort to ‘eat well’ can turn into extreme restriction, leading to nutritional deficiencies, chronic fatigue, anxiety, and other serious health issues. And beyond physical health, it robs people of the simple pleasure of enjoying food without fear or self-judgment.

Reframing the Conversation

At its heart, food is nourishment, connection, culture—and yes, enjoyment. The notion that certain foods need to be ‘earned’ or ‘deserved’ is a deeply rooted patriarchal social construct that ultimately does more harm than good.

That customer at the bakery—like many others—may not have realised the impact of their words. Yet, when young people hear these messages repeatedly, it can start to uproot their self-perception. These comments contribute to the idea that eating isn’t just a basic human need; it becomes a test of self-control, a moral choice, a privilege.

It’s time to let go of that mindset. The truth is, you don’t need to ‘earn’ the honey scroll—you simply need to enjoy it.