Health

Some days, stress doesn’t feel like a big dramatic breakdown—it’s the slow build-up. The inbox that never empties. The toddler who won’t nap. The simmering what-if thoughts that play in the background while you're trying to remember if you already added garlic to the pasta sauce.

I still remember the first time I learned that not all sweet foods are created equal. I was sitting across from a friend—someone who’d been managing type 2 diabetes for years—watching her drizzle almond butter over a sliced pear. It looked delicious, but I asked the obvious: “Wait, doesn’t fruit spike your blood sugar?”

There’s no shortage of skincare advice online. From $300 serums to 10-step Korean routines, jade rollers to LED masks, and buzzy ingredients with long names—knowing what’s worth your time (and money) has become a surprisingly complicated task. And if you’ve ever stood in the skincare aisle frozen between “brightening” and “balancing,” you’re not alone.

The first time I saw someone walking backward at the track, I’ll admit I thought it looked odd. My instinct was to assume they were stretching or maybe just being playful. Then I noticed it again—at a park, in a gym hallway, and finally in a research article that made me pause: backward walking wasn’t just quirky, it was evidence-backed and surprisingly beneficial for joints, balance, and even cognitive function.

Picture this: You’re working from home, a few clicks and clacks of the keyboard in between trips to the kitchen for a bite of this and a nibble of that. It feels innocent, maybe even virtuous—after all, isn’t eating small amounts throughout the day supposed to be healthy? This is where we must pause and ponder. Snacking can indeed be a part of a balanced diet, but when it blurs into grazing, it can lead to unwanted habits and disrupt nutritional balance. The key is understanding the difference, recognizing the signs, and making mindful choices. Let's dive into the world of snacks, confronting the truths and myths of what “healthy snacking” truly means.

A few years ago, after a stressful stretch at work, I noticed something unusual. It wasn’t the green smoothies, the meditation app, or the supplements on my kitchen counter that helped me reset—it was an unplanned evening with close friends. We laughed, shared a meal, and talked about nothing in particular. By the time I got home, my shoulders felt lighter, my sleep came easier, and the next morning, I woke up with more clarity than I’d had in weeks.

I’ve spent enough years watching carb trends swing from hero to villain to know: most of us have been taught to think about carbs in extremes. Either we’re piling on pasta like we’re carbo-loading for a marathon, or we’re shunning bread like it’s the dietary root of all evil.

There are days when my brain feels like a hamster wheel with an espresso addiction. My to-do list grows faster than I can cross things off, my inbox feels like a living organism, and by 3 p.m., I start craving chocolate with the intensity of a toddler spotting candy. For years, I chalked it up to a lack of willpower. But as I started digging into the science, I realized: that craving wasn’t random. My stress brain was asking for something, and—surprisingly—chocolate was delivering.

When your skin raises questions you can't ignore, finding clear answers becomes essential for both comfort and confidence.

When life gets busy, important deadlines can slip by—but missing Medicare Open Enrollment isn't the end of the world.

There are days when everything feels…off. You snap at a co-worker over a harmless comment. A simple task feels impossible. Or you find yourself numb—emotionally detached and moving through the motions like a background actor in your own life.

Step into any boutique wellness studio in a major city, and chances are you’ll hear about sound bathing before you see it. There may be soft gongs reverberating in the background, clusters of crystal singing bowls arranged like modern art, and yoga mats topped with weighted blankets. You might assume it’s another fleeting wellness trend—but step into a sound bath, and the experience often speaks for itself.