I Quit Sugar 2 Years Ago. Here Are 7 Ways It's Totally Transformed My Life

A quick Google search of sugar yields hundreds of thousands of results, including a slew of articles with the health buzzword of the year: inflammation. But when I officially decided to kick the sweet stuff to the curb about two years ago, no one was really uttering the “i” word yet. And if they were, I certainly wasn’t hearing it.

After some time spent volunteering on an organic farm, a summer interning in the health and wellness space, and a whole lot of time spent reading and researching as a result, what I was hearing was accelerated aging, increased risk of cancer, poor circulation, and cognitive impairment as a few of the not-so-sweet effects of sugar. I figured I’d cut back on it for a week, maybe two, and see if there was any validity to what sounded at the time like pretty extreme health claims.

Although I didn’t nix natural sugars found in whole foods like fruit and yogurt, what I did kiss goodbye was any sort of added sugar which, if you haven’t already noticed, is in pretty much everything. Ketchup, salad dressing, canned peas, tomato sauce, bread, granola bars, peanut butter—not to mention the usual culprits like ice cream, chocolate, cupcakes, and my oh-so-beloved frozen yogurt. Fortunately, I’ve never liked carbonated beverages, so soda wasn’t a problem, but orange juice was a tough one, as was cereal.

I also cut way back on so-called “healthy sugars” like honey and maple syrup. Because while they may be glorified as unrefined, pure, or organic, what I soon came to realize is that sugar is sugar. Period. They all cause blood sugar levels to spike—some simply do it faster than others.

The first few days were the furthest thing from glamorous; I was craving sweets big time, having ridiculous PMS-type mood swings, and suffering from what I eventually learned were sugar-withdrawal headaches. Now don't get me wrong—I wasn't expecting it to be a walk in the park. But this felt like a full-on uphill marathon, and I was ready to reclaim my sanity.

But I didn't do it. Because however much I wanted to take a spoon to the nearest Nutella jar, I couldn't get all of the supposed health benefits of this whole sugar-free business out of my mind. Somewhere between the headaches, mood swings, and time spent salivating at the mere thought of a cupcake, there was a voice of reason telling me that all those articles I read weren't, in fact, hoaxes. It would just take a bit longer to see or feel any major changes.

So I decided to continue for one more week and promised myself that if there were no noticeable changes by then, I would call it off.

Sure enough, the tide began to change come week two. My headaches went away, the cravings subsided, and I actually felt good. Great, even, which got me thinking: if I could feel this way after two sugar-free weeks, what would I feel like after three weeks? A month? THREE months?

My face has been riddled with acne for as long as I can remember. And although I’ve tried countless topical creams, scrubs, and even a few rounds of antibiotics, the results were always temporary. Dermatologists told me hormones were the problem, and although I may have believed that in ninth grade, I wasn’t so sure come senior year of college.

I didn’t tell too many people that I was giving up sugar because frankly, I was afraid it would sound preachy. Plus, the few people I did tell became surprisingly defensive as if I was judging them for ordering dessert. So I kept my mouth shut. But when you’re the only one at happy hour who orders lemon water instead of a margarita (since I avoid all alcohol besides the rare glass of wine for holidays and special occasions), or when you’re on a date and politely decline the offer to get ice cream after dinner, things start to get awkward. And then comes the urge to justify yourself: You’re just not in the mood, or you’re not drinking tonight, or maybe you’ll get one later, and so on.

If going through a period of extremes is necessary in order to shift to a mindset of moderation, I’m definitely still in the extremes stage. But believe me—I wouldn’t have continued down this sugar-free path for two whole years if I thought it was all a fad, and I certainly don’t foresee myself biting into a doughnut anytime soon. What I do hope, however, is to arrive at a place of balance where the occasional, intentional indulgence (preferably with unrefined, low-glycemic sweeteners) can serve as a source of pleasure rather than anxiety. After all, I’m only human. And while sugar may not be the healthiest, neither is letting it (or any food, for that matter) dictate my relationships and distance me from the people in my life that mean so much more than any food ever could.