The Wellness Trap: Why Our Obsession With Health Is Making Us Sick

Wellness used to feel like a competitive advantage, an edge to help us show up clearer, calmer and more energized. I was all-in on the routines, the learnings and the little upgrades that made me feel like I was investing in my future.

Now wellness feels heavy. I say this as someone who loves this space, which is why the shift is difficult to ignore.

Heavy like a hundred open tabs. Heavy like an endless group chat of advice. Heavy like we’re all one decision away from getting it “right” or one missed routine away from falling behind. The irony is that wellness is meant to help us feel better, and instead, it’s making a lot of us exhausted and more anxious.

I’m immersed in the world of health and wellness through my work. I help launch, build and operate wellness companies. I don’t have letters behind my name, and I am not a doctor. And because I’m adjacent to the space, I’m constantly fielding questions — over text, at kids’ sports events or at dinner party — where someone inevitably pulls out a one of the “quick questions” they’ve been sitting on for months:

• Should I take HRT?
• What’s the best supplement for sleep?
• Is cold plunging going to change my life?
• Should I take a GLP-1 to lose weight?
• Everyone is taking peptides… should I try that too?
• My friend swears by intermittent fasting, but I feel awful when I skip breakfast… what’s wrong with me?
• How much protein do I actually need?

The questions themselves are not the issue. The pressure behind them is. Because underneath each question is a deeper question: Am I doing enough? Am I falling behind? Did everyone else crack the code, and I missed the memo?

Our wellness obsession is making us unwell

Here’s the paradox I can no longer ignore and the one I try to help people see: Our obsession with wellness may actually be making us unwell. What started as self-care has become self-surveillance. We have turned wellness into a performance sport, one more arena where we can “win” or “fail,” measure ourselves, compare ourselves and endlessly optimize.

We chase novelty because it gives us hope. Novelty feels like progress, and it’s exciting. It delivers that quick hit of motivation to try the new supplement, the new protocol, the new wearable or the new trend that promises to unlock energy, reverse aging, and finally make us feel…well.

But novelty can also be a trap.

I’ve fallen into it before. I used to believe more information meant better choices. I have tried almost everything and have tracked macros, steps, sleep scores and HRV. I read studies, experimented with protocols, optimized variables and felt I was being disciplined and proactive with my health. I was forcing my body to do things based on metrics instead of listening to it: the cranky hip, the lingering fatigue or the quiet signal that my mind simply needed a rest.

Whether you’re an entrepreneur, executive, parent or just a human with a full life, you know what happens when your brain is already maxed out. You are already making hundreds of decisions a day and carrying responsibility for clients, teams, budgets, kids, relationships, deadlines and the emotional weight of trying to do it all well.

Now layer in the wellness industry’s constant demands: choose the right supplements, optimize your morning routine, track your biomarkers and biohack your way to longevity.

It’s no wonder “wellness” starts to feel like another job.

McKinsey estimates the global wellness market at 1.8 trillion, which helps explain what we are all feeling: more products, more services, more content, more influencers and definitely more opinions. But more choices have not made us healthier or happier. In many cases, the options have made us more anxious, more confused and more worried that we are doing it wrong.

Focus on the basics

My perspective shifted when I started writing about endurance over optimization for this column. I realized that in chasing peak performance, I’d lost sight of sustainable performance. I was trying to do it all, and the quality of my work and my presence as a mother, wife, daughter, entrepreneur and agency owner wasn’t where I wanted it to be. I’ve written extensively about my non-negotiables, the habits that actually move the needle for me versus the noise that creates more decisions.

What I keep coming back to is this: The solution is not more biohacks. It’s to focus on the basics such as sleep, movement, whole foods, connection and purpose.

Most people don’t need more wellness. They need less noise. Because while we’re obsessing over peptides, GLP-1s and biohacking protocols, the people who actually live the longest are doing something radically simple.

Blue Zones did not biohack their way to 100. They weren’t tracking macros, optimizing HRV or cold plunging in fancy tubs at 5 a.m.

When I interviewed Dan Buettner, National Geographic Fellow and producer and author of The Blue Zones: Lessons for Living Longer From the People Who’ve Lived the Longest, he described what shows up again and again in the world’s longest-lived communities: walkable environments, natural daily movement, real food (often mostly plant-forward) in moderate portions, laughter, deep social connection and a clear sense of purpose.

In Okinawa, that looks like hara hachi bu — stopping when you’re about 80% full. In Costa Rica’s Nicoya Peninsula, it’s a “plan de vida,” a reason to get up in the morning. Their lives are not organized around optimization. They’re organized around connection, community and meaning.

People who feel connected tend to do better over time than people who feel isolated. That’s why I’ll say something that might feel rebellious in modern wellness culture: going out with friends and having a glass of wine or beer (but have the discipline to stop there), might be healthier than staying home alone on your screen, obsessing over the latest trend, refreshing your wearable metrics and stressing about whether you hit your step goal.

Connection matters. Joy matters. According to the CDC, many teens report four or more hours of daily screen time, and higher levels of screen use are associated with a range of mental health and well-being concerns.

Extremes sell, but extremes rarely sustain. And if you’re an entrepreneur, you already know this. In business, we don’t build durable companies on chaos. We build them on systems, fundamentals and simple strategies executed consistently. So why would we treat our health differently?

My answers

Here’s what I tell people now when they ask those questions:

First: medical decisions deserve real medical support. HRT, GLP-1s and peptides should not be “TikTok decisions.” They should be guided by a qualified clinician who understands your history, your labs, your risk profile, your goals and your lifestyle. If anyone tells you that there’s one perfect answer — or a magic pill — they’re oversimplifying and likely selling.

Second: if something makes you feel worse, it’s not your job to force your body to comply. Intermittent fasting is a perfect example. Some people thrive on it. Others feel shaky, anxious, depleted or sleep-deprived. Your body is giving you feedback. Listen to it.

Third: the fundamentals are not optional, and they are still the highest ROI.

If you want the simplest “make wellness lighter” framework I know, it’s this:

1. Prioritize sleep like it’s a competitive advantage. It doesn’t need to be perfect, but consistent.
2. Move daily, and strength train in a way you can sustain. Walking, lifting, pickleball or skiing — consistency beats intensity.
3. Eat clean, whole foods most of the time. Don’t obsess over perfect macros; focus on real food that makes you feel good.
4. Downshift your nervous system every day with practices like breathwork, prayer, journaling, meditation or even stillness in the car before you walk into the house. (I smile when I hear my older son pull into the driveway after a late swim practice, and he sits in the car for a few minutes. He’s intuitively doing what so many adults forget.)
5. Build a life with purpose and people in it because loneliness isn’t just painful, it’s a health risk.

Here’s my prompt: pick one of these for the next 30 days and do not add anything new. No new supplements, protocols or “challenge.” Just one essential, done consistently. When you remove the noise, you start hearing yourself again. You start to trust your own signals. You stop turning your body into a project. You remember that wellness is not something you chase; it’s something you live.

One mindset example I can’t stop sharing comes from Dr. Gabrielle Lyon on a recent podcast with Tamsen Fadal. Dr. Lyon explains that a woman can be terrified of lifting a 40-pound dumbbell at the gym, but she will not think twice about picking up her 40-pound toddler and swinging them onto her hip. The mental shift is not about physical strength because the weight did not change, but the meaning did.

When we’re caring for someone we love, we don’t question whether we’re strong enough. We just do it. That’s the shift we need in wellness: from fear-based optimization to purpose-driven living. From “I have to choose correctly, or I’m failing” to “I’m doing what serves me.” From tracking every metric to trusting our bodies.

At 49, I’m the healthiest and fittest I’ve ever been, and that includes my triathlon and Ironman racing days, when I followed training plans so closely I ignored the signals that I was tired or under-fueled. I got swept into rigid training plans and low-carb nutrition trends, believing that exhaustion meant I was doing it right. It took years of experimenting to have the confidence to change a system that felt familiar.

Today, I’m not interested in being the most optimized person in the room. I’m interested in being the most grounded. Because at the end of your life, you won’t remember your HRV or “readiness” score. You’ll remember the people you loved, the purpose you served and the moments you were fully, joyfully present.

If wellness is starting to feel heavy, let that be your signal to simplify. Do less, more consistently. Make it human again. Your body does not need more pressure; it needs more trust. That’s true wellness. And if you get quiet enough to listen, it will tell you exactly what it needs.