I’m a psychiatrist, a mother, and an increasingly anxious wellness enthusiast. And I have a confession: some of the worst anxiety I’ve experienced came not from my clinical work or child-rearing responsibilities, but from reading too many articles about what might be harming my health.
It started innocently. I was drawn to functional medicine — a field that looks for the root causes of illness and treats the body as an interconnected system. As a physician, it felt like a refreshing shift. Finally, someone was connecting gut health to brain health, and caring about nutrition, hormones, and inflammation. I found it exciting. Empowering. Evidence-based.
Then it became overwhelming.
I installed three different water filters in my house. I avoided certain fruits after reading about their impact on blood sugar. I grew fearful of lectins, oxalates, and phytates — compounds found in otherwise healthy plant foods like beans, nuts, and seeds that allegedly interfered with nutrient absorption. I scrutinized how I cooked vegetables, avoiding charring broccoli to minimize AGE, or advanced glycation end products, and the havoc they could wreak on my body.
This wasn’t health — it was obsession.
And I wasn’t alone. In my psychiatry practice, I see patients who arrive terrified that their adrenals are “destroyed” (a term one was told by a wellness provider), or that toxins in everything from their mattress to their shampoo are silently harming them. These people aren’t hypochondriacs; they’re trying to stay informed. But they’re also being bombarded by a steady diet of fear.
Which brings me to a concept we don’t talk about enough in health care: the nocebo effect. If the placebo effect is when positive expectations lead to real improvement, the nocebo effect is the opposite — negative expectations lead to worse outcomes. If you believe something is hurting you, it very well might, even if it isn’t inherently dangerous.
One often-cited study from the University of Wisconsin–Madison found that people under high stress had higher mortality rates only if they believed that stress was harming their health. Those who experienced high stress but didn’t hold that belief fared significantly better.
When wellness culture trades in fear-based messaging — warning that everyday foods, thoughts, or products are toxic — it creates the perfect conditions for the nocebo effect. It’s the medical version of shouting “fire” in a crowded theater. Ironically, this messaging around illness-promoters fosters the very illnesses we aim to prevent.
Of course, not all concerns are unfounded. Processed foods and environmental toxins can negatively affect health. But there’s a difference between honest risk assessment and blanket alarmism. When “everything is toxic,” people either give up or spiral.
Last summer, I took a break. I left my wearable health tracker at home, skipped my supplements, and traveled with my family to Alaska. I hiked, whale-watched, and (gasp!) ate pie for breakfast — a Fourth of July tradition in the town of Gustavus. I wasn’t tracking my glucose or avoiding sugar or fretting about anti-nutrients. I felt happy and free. And importantly, I told myself everything was going to be okay.
When I returned, my Oura ring (which had been stored away) reported that my biological age had reversed by two years. I have no idea how it made that calculation, but the message was clear: optimism, joy, and connection are more healing than rigid alarmist protocols.
If health and wellness providers want to help people live healthier lives, we need to talk less about what’s wrong with them and more about what’s possible. Instead of warning that elevated fasting insulin can portend diabetes, depression, and dementia, why not emphasize how simple dietary tweaks can improve energy, mood, and vascular health?
We need to stop terrifying people into compliance. Instead, we should empower them with optimism and small, evidence-based shifts: eat more fiber. Move your body. Get sunlight early in the day. Prioritize sleep. Socialize. These aren’t revolutionary — but they work.
Wellness isn’t supposed to make people afraid of food, or of their own bodies. We need to stop sounding so many alarm bells and start celebrating progress. Because the language we use matters. And a subtle shift can be the difference between breeding anxiety or fostering agency.
As one functional medicine colleague put it, “We help a lot of people just by encouraging them to eat more vegetables and move around more.”
That message is hopeful. Achievable. Human.
And maybe that’s the healthiest thing of all.
Ana Ivkovic Smith, M.D., is an assistant professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, an integrative psychiatrist at Massachusetts General Hospital, and co-author of “The Science of Stress.”