Holiday Diet Culture Scripts: From Eye Rolls to Exit Strategies
Five realistic approaches. Gentle redirects to survive the unsolicited advice, protect your mental space, and honor your values.
I think I’m stating the obvious when I say that the holidays tend to be a bit of a diet culture gauntlet for many of us. Suddenly, everyone is a nutrition expert, your body is a group project, and your plate is apparently open for public comment (big, big eye roll).
Most of my client sessions this time of year center on the anticipation of a family gathering—already knowing what your mom might say about her January diet, how your brother-in-law will bring up his intermittent fasting plan, or how a casual comment about dessert will quietly land like a verdict. If you’re already rehearsing explanations and justifications, you’re not the only one.
It is worth thinking about: What will I say if food and bodies come up? How much do I want to share? And, most importantly, who is worth my time and energy in a more nuanced conversation about these issues?
If you missed it, this week’s episode of the podcast is an “ask me anything” about the holidays. I answered questions on:
Prioritizing rest while others are prioritizing diet culture
Clothing, consumerism, and the connection to body image “fixes”
When body comparison (to someone else or your “former” body) makes you want to restrict food or lose weight
Being at peace with other people’s opinions about food and their food choices
Setting boundaries with close family members and friends around weight, food, and body talk
I wanted to follow that episode up with a few tangible ways to steer conversations away from triggering topics—plus, set boundaries in a way that doesn’t feel like too much of an emotional burden. We’re all just trying to survive, am I right?
Because trust me, I know it’s tempting to want to “educate” people about diet culture. I’ve felt the pull to climb on top of the table and explain the harm of body-centric conversations when confronted with all of this.
But the reality is, it took many of us years to do this work of returning home to our bodies (and it’s ongoing). So expecting to be able to change someone’s mind in a single conversation—especially in the midst of a holiday gathering—is a tall tale.
Which leads me to this: instead of preparing arguments about weight stigma or debating nutrition facts (things we never asked to discuss), I thought I could offer something gentler this year: options.
These are definitely not “perfect” scripts. They’re just ideas—things you can mold and change to suit your personality, your relationships, and your preferences.
1. The Calm Redirect
When to use it: for situations where you want to keep things moving without using much energy.
“I’m trying to focus less on food rules lately—how was your trip?”
“I’m actually really enjoying this—oh my gosh, did you see the dog yet?”
“You know what, I’d love to hear what you’ve been reading. I’m looking for my next book.”
Why this works: because most of these comments don’t deserve your attention, and if you point the conversation somewhere else, most people follow it.
2. The Firm “No.”
When to use is: when someone has a habit of continuing to bring up weight or food, and you want clarity without explanation.
“I’m not in the mood to discuss people’s bodies.”
“I’m actually not taking food advice right now.”
“That’s not something I want to talk about.”
Why it works: you never owe anyone justification, and boundaries don’t need to be dramatic. Just remember that you may need to restate and reinforce the boundary a few times.
3. The (Slightly) Humorous Deflection
When to use this: when humor feels more authentic or safer than something else.
“I vote we talk about literally anything else.”
“I’m actually in my eating and vibing era.”
“That’s an inside thought.”
“Okay…anyway! Who brought the pie?”
“What an odd thing to say.” (stare at them, deadpan…my favorite, lol)
Why it works: laughter can help interrupt a weird conversation, and opens the door to redirecting the conversation. Humor also tends to bring down everyone else’s threat response, avoiding tension…or lessening it.

4. The Lived Experience Boundary
When to use it: if you want to gently name what matters to you and why.
“I’m working on trusting my body more than food rules.”
“I’ve spent way too much of my life worrying about food and my body, and I’ve decided to leave that behind.”
“Talking about weight hasn’t been great for my mental health. Let’s chat about something else.”
Why it works: Inviting in your truth and your values can help the people who care about you understand the importance of the boundary. And it often invites more care than debate.
5. The Exit Strategy
When to use it: in those moments where you’ve done enough emotional labor for one day.
“I’m going to step outside for a bit.”
“I need to go use the restroom.”
“I’m going to go grab another plate of food.”
Why it works: sometimes the most compassionate boundary is physical distance. Fresh air, a quick text to someone who gets it, or a snuggle with the dog in the corner…all good options.
Hopefully a few of these boundary ideas were helpful for you! I know we all have such individual experiences with family dynamics and our own history with your body.
I think the most important thing to remember is this: You don’t owe anyone a debate. You don’t owe anyone a defense of your health, your body, or your food choices. And you certainly don’t owe anyone a performance of “good eating.”







In response to a classic l'esprit d'escalier moment, I've been waiting for someone to call food "sinful" (or a version thereof) in my presence, so I can respond with: "Why? Does the donut work for ICE?"
Your dogs are so cute!
I had a coworker earlier this year say something about wanting a low carb version of something and I said, “No. I want the full carb version. Taking out the carbs doesn’t taste good,” or something similar. I had another coworker support me in this sentiment, so it felt good to know that not everyone is on the low carb train. That trend never seems to die. Bread, pasta, and dessert are far too delicious to ever give up or cut back on.