Three weeks without snacks between meals

It was not a plan. It was an observation.

At the end of June 2025, the almonds on the kitchen table were empty, the market was closed for a public holiday, and I had simply nothing in the kitchen between breakfast and lunch. One day. Then another. After three days I noticed that around eleven I was sharper than usual. Not wired, evenly clear. That is what made me curious.

Three weeks later I am writing down what changed, and what did not.

Before I begin. I am not a doctor. What I describe here is a private observation of a healthy adult body that sleeps well and moves enough. If something keeps following you (cravings, fatigue, dizziness), please have it looked at.

What I actually did. Three meals a day. Water in between, black coffee in the morning, tea in the afternoon. No almonds, no dates, no slice of cheese in passing. When I was hungry, I was hungry. It was not heroic. It was, surprisingly often, boring.

What I did not do. No fasting in any strict sense. No calorie counting. No protein bombs in the morning. No apps, no glucose monitoring, no spreadsheet. I did not eat less. The three meals were deliberately full. Eggs or bread with olive oil for breakfast, a proper main course at midday, mostly soup or vegetables with fish in the evening.

What changed

First, the mornings. This was the clearest observation. The dip between ten and twelve, that mild, not-quite-sharp fog I used to eat away with a handful of nuts, simply did not show up. I was not hungry, I was awake. That was new.

Second, lunch. Suddenly lunch had weight. I noticed that I was arriving at the meal, not filling a gap. The sequence between salad and main course, the smell of the olive oil bottle being opened, the last piece of bread in the sauce. Before, I had three small docking points between breakfast and lunch where I briefly checked in. Without them, lunch became its own place again.

Third, the evening feeling. Less interesting but honest: I was not hungrier in the evenings. I had the sense that my body knew, quite precisely, when it was done. Dinner was shorter and smaller. Not because I planned it, but because it came that way.

What did not change

My sleep stayed the same. My energy when surfing at the weekend was unchanged. I did not measurably lose weight in those three weeks, and that was not the point. My mood was stable. If you came looking for salvation, you will not find it here. I did not discover that snacking is making us sick. I discovered that for me there was a small veil I had not noticed, because it had become normal.

What I did afterwards

I did not go back to three almonds at half past ten. I also did not become militant. On a hike I eat something on the way. If I have surfed and not eaten for a long time, sometimes there is a piece of fruit. What stayed is a question I now ask myself during the day. Am I hungry, or is this something else? Most of the time it is something else. Tiredness, a change of concentration, a need for a pause. I have learned not to answer those things with food.

A caveat

I am in a phase with relatively little acute load. A twelve-year-old child who no longer breastfeeds, who sleeps through the night, no serious illness, no extreme training blocks. In another phase (pregnancy, breastfeeding, chronic illness, high-performance sport) this experiment would be nonsense. What is morning alertness for me could be hypoglycaemia and tears for another woman. This is not a protocol. It is a report.

What I take from it

Snacking is not the problem. Reflexive snacking, without hunger, was my problem, and I did not know I had it. Three weeks of pause showed me how much of it was habit, not need. It is a small insight. But it is mine, observed, and it holds. That is all.