Don’t get too hung up on “forever.”
A lot of people get stuck before they ever begin because they think they need to answer a very large question: “Can I eat this way forever?”
That is usually not the most useful question.
When Megan started Carnivore, she did not make a dramatic lifetime declaration. She decided to try it for a week. Then she tried two weeks. After that, she aimed for thirty days, and eventually ninety. Fourteen months later, she was still eating this way—not because she had forced herself into a lifelong contract, but because the next reasonable step kept making sense.
That part of her story matters because many people assume long-term consistency begins with unusual confidence or exceptional discipline. More often, it begins with a person who is tired of repeating the same pattern and is willing to conduct an honest experiment.
The Problem Was Not That She Had Never Tried Hard Enough
Megan had been dieting for roughly thirty years. She knew how to eat less, choose low-fat foods, fill her plate with fruits and vegetables, and start over on January 1. She also knew how that routine tended to end.
Restriction created deprivation. Deprivation eventually led to bingeing. Then came guilt, another plan, another fresh start, and the sincere belief that this time she would simply be more disciplined.
That cycle is familiar to many of the people I coach. They are not lazy, uninformed, or indifferent to their health. In many cases, they have spent years reading labels, counting points, measuring portions, buying the “healthy” version, and wondering why they are still hungry enough to eat the refrigerator door.
Megan’s birthday in March 2024 followed the usual pattern. One planned indulgence became a week, and the week became a month. By the end of it, she felt physically and mentally awful again.
The useful question was no longer, “How can I try harder at the same thing?” It was, “What have I not been willing to try yet?”
A Better Plan Often Feels Easier for a Reason
One of the most important things Megan said was that she did not feel deprived on Carnivore.
That is not a small detail.
For years, she had associated dieting with white-knuckling. Hunger, cravings, and constant food negotiation were treated as normal parts of trying to improve her health. On Carnivore, she ate plenty of animal foods, felt satisfied, and stopped thinking about sugar.
People sometimes hear that and assume she developed heroic self-control. Megan understood it differently. She believed that sugar had behaved like an addiction in her life, and removing it completely gave her more control than moderation ever had.
She even joked that she was not going to “break the bubble,” because she knew what happened when she reintroduced sugar. One taste did not make the obsession disappear. It invited it back in, unpacked its bags, and asked where she kept the snacks.
That is why I often tell people that beating addiction takes priority over creating the most elegant meal plan. If someone is genuinely hungry and fighting a sugar craving, I would much rather see that person eat more meat than spend the evening arguing with a cookie.
The Scale Was Only One Part of the Result
Megan lost about thirty-five pounds, which was meaningful to her. But her health improvements were broader than that number.
Before Carnivore, she was dealing with Hashimoto’s, severe fatigue, brain fog, anxiety, depression, swollen ankles, joint pain, sleep problems, intense mood swings, and plantar fasciitis that had become painful enough to stop her from walking.
She had tried massage, acupuncture, cupping, scraping, chiropractic care, and other approaches for the foot pain. Nothing had resolved it. After several months of Carnivore, the pain began to diminish, and eventually it was gone.
Her brain fog also cleared. Her mood became more stable. She could run her business, manage her responsibilities, set goals, and follow through without feeling as though her own mind was working against her.
None of that means every person will have the same experience or follow the same timetable. Bodies are annoyingly individual. Still, Megan’s story is a good reminder that the bathroom scale is a limited instrument. It cannot measure clearer thinking, better sleep, less pain, stable moods, freedom from bingeing, or the return of ordinary daily function.
Those results count, even when they do not fit neatly into a weekly weight-loss chart.
You Do Not Have to Become a Carnivore Evangelist
Megan is a massage therapist, so conversations about pain, health, and inflammation come up naturally in her work. Even so, she did not immediately tell everyone she was eating Carnivore.
Sometimes she said she was eating whole foods and avoiding sugar. That was true, and it usually created less resistance.
I understand that completely.
There is no requirement to turn every meal into a debate about nutrition. You do not need to persuade your doctor, your sister-in-law, the woman beside you at church, or a stranger at a restaurant who has become unusually concerned about your lack of broccoli.
People often become more curious when they see steady results than when they hear a long explanation. Megan found that some clients and friends eventually asked what she was doing because they could see the difference.
At that point, she shared her experience honestly. She also recognized that she could not convince anyone. People have to investigate, think, and decide for themselves.
That is usually the better approach. Share when it is appropriate. Answer questions. Then return to eating your lunch.
Small Commitments Are Still Real Commitments
Megan said that she had never stuck with a diet for more than thirty days before Carnivore. The difference was not that she suddenly became a different person. She stopped demanding that she solve her entire future in advance.
This is what I mean when I talk about laying one brick.
You do not need to build the whole wall today. You need to make today’s meal, handle today’s craving, take today’s walk, and go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight. Tomorrow will contain its own decisions, and you can make them when tomorrow gets here.
That does not mean being casual about your goals. It means being specific about what is actually within your control.
A person cannot directly control the scale, force inflammation to disappear, or guarantee a particular lab result. But that person can cook the meat, avoid the food that causes problems, pay attention to hunger, prepare for social situations, and ask for help when something is not working.
That is not glamorous, but it is effective.
Megan’s story is not about making a perfect commitment to an entire lifetime. It is about discovering that when food is satisfying, cravings are quieter, and health begins to improve, continuing does not require the same exhausting effort that dieting once did.
That is also why support can matter so much. In My Zero Carb Life coaching, we talk through the practical details: what to eat, how much to eat, how to handle cravings, what to do when the scale stalls, how to prepare for travel, and how to learn from a rough day without turning it into a rough month. Members also have a community of people who understand the food obsession, the health concerns, and the awkward social conversations. There is accountability, but there is also a lot of ordinary problem-solving and a fair amount of laughter. No pressure and no grand promises—just support for people who would rather not figure out every part of this alone.
You’ll fit right in.
Join one of my Carnivore coaching groups. Whether you’re working through cravings, weight-loss stalls, autoimmune challenges, or simply learning how to make carnivore work in real life, there are people here who understand and are happy to help.
