Sarah Burgin Health

Where science meets self discovery

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  • When “It’s Just Bad Parenting” Isn’t the Full Story: Rethinking Responsibility in Children’s Diets

    An interesting discussion came up in my public health lecture today. We were talking about food poverty and the factors that shape children’s diets when, right on cue, someone voiced an opinion I see everywhere, both in real life and online:

    “It’s down to parenting.”
    “I was raised to eat what was on my plate or I would go hungry.”

    It’s a familiar refrain. I don’t know this individual’s personal circumstances, but this childhood anecdote likely reflects an experience from more than 15 years ago, which probably isn’t far off my own, over four decades back (I can’t actually remember 😂). But here’s the key issue: those eras are not comparable to the food and social landscapes families are navigating today.

    The world parents are raising children in today is fundamentally different.

    Many families no longer live near extended support networks. Dual-working households are now a necessity rather than a choice for most. Time, energy, money, and mental load are stretched thinner than ever.

    Food itself has changed too. Ultra-processed options are engineered for convenience, taste, and long shelf-life, often making them cheaper, quicker, and more accessible than fresh foods. Advertising is targeted, persuasive, and relentless, particularly toward children. Screens mean kids see more food cues in a single day than adults saw in a week 30 years ago.

    So when we talk about personal responsibility, we must ask:

    Do we really believe personal responsibility looks the same for everyone?
    For the wealthy and the poor?
    For those with health challenges and those without?
    For people working three jobs and people with the luxury of time?

    How can it? Personal responsibility doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It exists within systems, and the system has changed dramatically.

    Healthcare professionals must be careful not to amplify blame.

    When a child’s diet is poor, pointing the finger solely at parents may feel intuitive, but it’s overly simplistic and deeply unhelpful. It ignores structural barriers and fuels stigma, often directed at the very people who need support, not judgment.

    In our lecture we revisited the Five A’s, a framework used in public health nutrition that captures the real-world factors families are up against:

    1. Accessibility

    Is healthy food physically available? Do families live near shops offering fresh produce, or only convenience stores and takeaways?

    2. Affordability

    Even when available, is it financially within reach? With food prices rising, “healthy choices” can become unrealistic choices.

    3. Availability

    Are nutrient-dense foods consistently stocked? Rural and deprived areas often face limited options.

    4. Acceptability

    Do the available foods align with cultural practices, preferences, or sensory needs (especially important for children with neurodivergence or sensory challenges)?

    5. Accommodation

    Do shops and services support people’s circumstances, opening hours, transport, ability to shop without a car, or food preparation equipment at home?

    When we zoom out and consider the 5 A’s, the narrative shifts. It becomes clear that what looks like a “parenting issue” is often an environmental, economic, and structural issue.

    So where does this leave responsibility?

    Of course parents play a role; that’s undeniable. But so do policymakers, educators, food manufacturers, advertisers, and health professionals. Responsibility is shared, not dumped on the shoulders of those already carrying the heaviest loads.

    If we want healthier children, the answer isn’t to resurrect stories of “clean your plate” childhoods from decades ago. It’s to understand and address the complex, modern realities shaping family life today.

    Because compassion and context will get us much further than blame ever will.

  • Why Behaviour Change Matters More Than Anything Else I’ve Learned

    The deeper I go into my nutrition studies, alongside my life experience, the more I realise something important: knowing the science is only half the story. The other half, and often the harder half, is behaviour change.

    Most people already know the basics. They know vegetables are good, they know water matters, they know too much sugar or processed food isn’t ideal. But knowledge doesn’t equal action. And action, real and lasting action, is where the change happens.

    As both a student and a parent, I am constantly reminded how messy real life can be. No one lives in perfect conditions, and even with the best intentions, routines and priorities often get pulled in different directions. Sticking to good intentions is not always straightforward. That is why connection matters so much. The more I learn, the more I believe that our ability to meet people where they are, to understand their motivations and barriers, is the key to helping them succeed.

    As I look ahead to my final year, this is what I want to strengthen in myself: the ability to walk alongside someone, not just give them advice. To make them feel heard and supported. To help them build habits that truly fit into their lives, instead of making them feel they have failed if they cannot follow rigid rules.

    For me, behaviour change isn’t an extra skill. It is the skill. It is what turns all the knowledge we learn in textbooks into something that actually changes lives. That is the kind of practitioner I want to be: someone who sees beyond the nutrients and numbers, and focuses on helping people create change that lasts.

    When I think about the future of our field, I don’t see it being defined only by new research or guidelines. I see it being defined by how well we, as practitioners, can connect. And that is the difference I want to make.

  • The Poison of Perfection

    I have been a prolific quitter for a considerable chunk of my life, though I never once attributed this tendency to perfectionism. Yet, looking back, that’s exactly what it was—perfectionism tangled up with an undiagnosed working memory issue (though that’s a whole other story).

    This drive for perfection has shown up in unexpected places. For example, I often joke about my poor photography skills when I post on Instagram, but there’s intention behind my approach. Insta is a photo-based platform, and the relentless pursuit of perfect shots seeps into daily life—affecting not just the people chasing it, but those around them. Taking flawless pictures takes skill, yes, but also planning and curation, which interrupts the natural flow of a day. For content creators, this is simply part of the job, something they budget their time and energy for. For the rest of us, it becomes an extra burden piled on top of everything else.

    And yet, I know that if I want visibility in today’s world, I’ll need to step back into the demanding arena of social media—at least until word of mouth starts to carry me. The thought doesn’t excite me in the slightest; in fact, it fills me with dread.

    What I really want is to communicate the services I offer and present myself as a practitioner in the most genuine way possible. I want the focus to be on what I can provide, not on how many hours I can spend fussing over the perfect shot. I’m not a photographer or a content creator—I just want to be a steady, committed part of someone’s journey.

    And that’s the heart of it: perfectionism might once have dictated how I showed up, but now I want sustainability and presence to guide me instead. Whether it’s in work, study, motherhood, perimenopause, or simply navigating life, the goal is no longer flawless output—it’s to show up consistently, protect my calm, and give the best of myself to the people who need me.

  • The flex and flow of real life

    Since I first changed my nutrition and lifestyle for the better well over a decade ago, I’ve had to reinvent my approach again and again. Not because the changes were unsustainable, but because life changes, and we have to flex and change with it.
    Having children was a massive factor in this. Suddenly, you have very little time for yourself, and for some, motherhood does an absolute number on you physically. It created a huge shift in priorities, with me being much further down the list. When I returned to a full-time, inflexible job, I did my best to keep fitness and healthy eating in the mix, but it was 100% harder than before, so it absolutely slipped.
    By the time my second baby arrived, I was far less fit, three years into never sleeping a full night, and definitely not where I wanted to be nutritionally. But you know what? I wasn’t going to stress myself out over it. It was what it was.
    Seven years later, I’ve started and stopped more times than I can count. I’ve injured myself, lost interest, and had more pressing priorities. This last year, I haven’t touched the gym due to an injury and the demands of university, and that’s fine. However, I’ve realized now how much the gym is my missing puzzle piece. I eat well 90% of the time, and I sleep as well as I can for a perimenopausal stress bunny, but I know that’s not enough. So I’m back at the gym and loving it.
    If I’d forced myself back out of guilt, it absolutely wouldn’t be serving me the way it is now. I’m so glad to have had the break to appreciate it in all its glory once again. Today, I even had a sneaky sauna! My schedule will have to flex again when I’m back in the throws of uni, but I will be prioritizing this space throughout the year to help maintain my health. My journey has taught me that wellness isn’t a rigid plan; it’s a living, breathing thing that adapts to your life and it’s this approach that I intend to bring to my nutritional coaching career.

  • Year 3, I’m coming for you!

    and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that! 😂 I can’t wait to get cracking in my new chosen career so I need to get through this final year. But at the same time, the impact of academia on my mental and physical health, isn’t something I should underestimate.

    As someone who has furiously fought the education system as a child with undiagnosed working memory issues, I built up quite a dislike for graded systems. Over the years, as I have learned about child development and motivation, it’s not changed my mind on this. However, as an adult returning to education, I have realised that all the young Sarah’s teachers cries of ‘if only you would apply yourself, you could do great things’, were actually true.

    Applying myself wholeheartedly has meant I have been able to turn out some incredible work during my degree, as I absolutely love the subject and throw myself into it 100%. However, chasing the grades really is draining and quite honestly, isn’t focusing me on the science as much as it is the academics. I’d like to think that I will step back and be realistic about the amount of time and rewrites I churn out for every assignment this year, but I’m not sure I can now I’ve come this far; and this year carries more weight!

    This battle of internal wills is something many of us grapple with when it comes to health and fitness too. Oftentimes we know what we should be doing, but something else drives us harder towards a very different goal. Half the battle can be understanding what drives these less than desirable behaviours, whether that be binge eating, procrastinating or running yourself into the ground in work and study.

    Would you know where to start understanding what derails you? It can be a lengthy process, but it is absolutely worth it, even if you still semi ignore it from time to time!

  • Prepare your Defences

    At 45, I feel I know myself reasonably well. I like to think I’m logical and discerning – not easily swayed by the noise that clutters the internet. But recently, returning to social media has taken an unexpected emotional toll.

    I’ve been exploring the role of dietetics in end-of-life care, and naturally, that involves learning about terminal illness. I seek to understand these conditions in all their complexity so that if my career ever intersects with someone facing such a diagnosis, I can show up with knowledge, compassion, and presence.

    But these searches have triggered a wave of emotionally charged content, thanks to the ever-attentive algorithms. The resulting stream of grief, suffering, and loss has been overwhelming. I can close the app and walk away, yes, and I never forget how fortunate that makes me. My observations are not complaints, nor do they diminish the real and profound pain of others.

    Still, the constant drip-feed of tragedy has been mentally exhausting. I understand how these algorithms are designed: to engage, to hook, to hold us in a cycle of scrolling, but knowing this doesn’t make me immune. The volume and intensity of sorrow distilled into a single feed makes it feel as though the world is drowning in grief. It’s hard not to carry that weight into real life. I find myself watching loved ones and imagining what I would do if it were them – or me.

    My return to social media was, admittedly, strategic. I hoped to build a presence that might one day support a private practice, and to contribute a grounded voice amidst the chaos of wellness misinformation. I intended to post, engage briefly, then log off. That boundary quickly blurred.

    I don’t want to shut out reality. I understand that pain is part of life. But I’d like to encounter it in ways that allow for reflection and response, not just helplessness. On my own terms. With purpose. Social media makes that difficult — not because I’m naïve, but because I’m human.

  • Fun with fibre

    I have been using the Bearable app for around 3 months now to track subjective symptoms across the month, and factors from my day such as sleep, time outside and bowel movements. Initially this was prep and testing for my dietary comparison dissertation, which I have sadly had to pull due to circumstances outside of my control, but I intend to continue to track.

    One thing that I have become acutely aware of so far, is my bowels! Dietitians love a good poo chat, so work with me 😂. What I have noticed is that mine are definitely not optimal and I have an incling that it may be related to fibre and the fact that I eat a LOT!

    Unfortunately, I haven’t been as fastidious about my diet tracking in that time so I can’t totally account for that yet, but on a very small scale experiment it does seem to fit. Yesterday I ate almost 50g of fibre and this mornings elimination could have done better on the Bristol chart! Whilst it’s not wildly extreme, maybe it’s just too much for me these days.

    As a female, our bowels can sway with our menstrual cycle, so I need to pay closer attention for a month or so and see what occurs. This could simply be my body and the hormones still adjust from stopping using topical progesterone around 3-4 months ago. My cycle is definitely still not back to what it was, that’s for sure.

  • Welcome to Sarah Burgin Health

    Hi, I’m Sarah – a Nutrition and Dietetics student, health investigator, and someone deeply curious about how food shapes how we feel.

    This blog is where I’m bringing together everything I’m learning through my studies and everything I’m experiencing in real life. It’s a space for me to share what I’m discovering, not just from textbooks and lectures, but from actually testing things out on myself. I’m curious about how nutrition science plays out in the real world, especially when it comes to women’s health, hormones, and everyday wellbeing.

    Lately, I’ve become more and more interested in how diet affects women’s health, especially during the late reproductive years, when things can start to feel a bit different. I’ve noticed some subtle changes myself and found that the usual advice doesn’t always go deep enough. That’s what sparked my curiosity to start looking more closely, using tracking, testing, and self-experimentation as tools to better understand what’s really going on and how best to support my body during this transitional phase of life.

    Right now, I’m doing a bit of a personal experiment, looking at how different ways of eating might affect things like energy, hormones, and overall health. I’m comparing a Mediterranean-style diet with a more animal-based, modified carnivore approach to see what actually changes in my body. I’m tracking things like blood sugar, thyroid, lipids, and cycle-related symptoms, using a mix of blood tests, apps, and other tools. Initially this was going to form the basis of my dissertation, but time pressure mean that just not going to happen, so now its a personal interest approach – I’m just genuinely curious to see what happens when I pay close attention.

    And this is me, notoriously terrible at taking photographs and completely disinterested in changing that!

    You don’t need to be a data nerd or dietitian-in-training to follow along. Whether you’re navigating perimenopause, thinking about trying a new dietary approach, or just curious about what happens when someone tracks everything, I hope you’ll find something useful here.

    Thanks for being here and welcome to Sarah Burgin Health.
    Let’s explore what really nourishes us.