Why Discipline Can Make You an Outsider

I’ve always hated the taste of alcohol. What started as a simple aversion in my youth gradually became a conscious choice shaped by observation and personal loss. My grandfather struggled with alcohol, and my sister battled it her entire life, ultimately taking her own life in her 50s. Witnessing the devastating effects firsthand left a mark I could never ignore. Abstaining for me wasn’t a preference—it was self-preservation.

Over the years, I layered other habits on top of this. For much of my adult life, I slowly gained significant weight, especially during my 40s and 50s. I tried diets, exercise, even short-term fixes, but nothing worked. And then one day, someone took a photograph of me from the side. I was shocked. That perspective—a real view of how the world saw me—was impossible to ignore. Mirrors give only a flat, one-dimensional reflection, and over time, weight sneaks up on you without warning. That photo was a wake-up call. Not until my 60s did I fully commit: ketogenic eating, intermittent fasting, and complete abstinence from alcohol. For the first time, I began to see lasting change.

Discipline isn’t easy. It’s a daily choice that requires focus, consistency, and sacrifice. In the U.S., it can even make you an outsider. Social meals, workplace gatherings, celebrations—most revolve around alcohol and carb-heavy foods. Saying no draws attention, even subtle judgment. In my experience, people who abstain for religious reasons or recovery often get a pass. But abstaining for health, longevity, and mental clarity? That rarely earns applause.

Sometimes, I’ve noticed that my choices—even unintentionally—can make others who struggle with weight, health, or addiction feel uncomfortable or guilty. That is never my goal. I share my experiences not to judge, but to show that living deliberately is possible, even in a world built on indulgence.

Yet, despite the occasional isolation, the benefits are profound. Every meal, every fast, every social interaction I navigate on my terms reflects respect for my body, my mind, and the lessons of my family’s past. Discipline is a quiet rebellion against the pressure to conform. It doesn’t make life easier—it makes life clearer, stronger, and longer.

We are finally seeing a resurgence of awareness about the dangers of alcohol, added sugars, constant snacking, and high-carb diets. The old food pyramid misled us, but more people—especially the highly educated—are discovering low-carb and ketogenic lifestyles. Meanwhile, new weight-loss drugs, which often encourage overeating while keeping consumers dependent, carry serious risks. True health doesn’t come from a pill or a fad—it comes from understanding your body, making conscious choices, and cultivating discipline.

You don’t have to wait until your 60s like I did. You can start small: eat better, move more, pause before reaching for another snack, skip that drink, and notice the difference. Every deliberate choice adds up. It’s not about perfection—it’s about giving yourself a chance to thrive. And in the end, living deliberately isn’t just about weight or health—it’s about respect for yourself, for the people who love you, and for the life you’re meant to live.