Rice, the Currency of Love
My father was a poor immigrant from the Philippines, the youngest of five children raised by a single mother. As a child, he sold eggs on trains to help the family survive; he was often denied a seat in the classroom because he lacked a proper school uniform and shoes. Against those odds, he eventually became the first librarian of color at the University of Minnesota in the 70s, and later, a beloved professor of English at multiple community colleges.
In our family, he was the cook. And in his kitchen, rice was the foundation of every meal.
It was plain white rice with whole, fried tilapia for dinner. On special occasions, that same white rice accompanied Dinuguan—a savory, rich stew made from pork and vinegar. My dad was “meal prepping” decades before it became a wellness trend; he always had leftover rice on hand to mix with scrambled eggs for breakfast the next morning.
In his world, rice wasn’t just food. It was survival, it was success, and it was his primary way of saying “I love you.”
Good IntentionsPermalink
In 2017, I started teaching fitness in my parents’ town—about 30 minutes from where I lived—one night a week. I’d drop my son off at their house before my shift so they could spend time with him, feed him dinner, and handle the bedtime routine.
I’d return around 8:30 PM. My son would already be asleep, and my dad would be there to greet me with one of his two love languages: food (the other was shoes and clothes). The meal usually consisted of a whole tilapia, a small serving of vegetables, and an entire, large bowl of rice—the equivalent of 2.5 cups cooked.
I tried multiple times to explain I didn’t need to eat that much food, let alone that much rice. But food was how he expressed care, and he would look completely dejected if I didn’t finish it all. So, I did. I accepted his love language (wouldn’t you?) even though my health began to suffer.
Around the time my dad was guilting me into those 2.5 cups of rice, my eczema flared violently. I was also dealing with an unreasonable boss who didn’t just manage employees—she destroyed them. The stress was beyond words.
My eczema wasn’t just uncomfortable; it was ugly. I never wanted to look in the mirror. How ironic that my profession was teaching fitness in studios filled with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. I felt like a fraud, hiding my skin while telling others how to be healthy.
Eczema is a confidence-destroying, emotional rollercoaster. While it is no longer strictly classified as an autoimmune disease, it is autoimmune-mimicking; it involves a dysregulated, overactive immune system causing chronic, systemic inflammation. I’ve had it since I was a baby. I’ve been hospitalized for it, mocked for it, and have lost countless hours of my life managing it.
The Turning PointPermalink
In 2017, a client gently asked if I’d be open to doing a cleanse to help the eczema. I initially balked at the cost, but I eventually reached a breaking point. I knew my skin would get worse before it got better, but I stayed the course for 90 days.
The outcome? I recovered. Aside from my left hand, I no longer show signs of the eyebrow-hair loss, discoloration, or puffiness that defined my life for years. I reclaimed at least an hour every day that used to be spent on arduous routines of salves, ointments, and colloidal oatmeal baths. Since March 2018, I have maintained an 80/20 approach: prioritizing whole foods and reducing inflammatory triggers.
Food, for me, is a symbol of home, love, and belonging. It is joy, nostalgia, and connection. It’s my love language, too! If my son is sad, my first instinct is to ask, “Boba???”
But as a movement coach, I have to share a truth bomb: You cannot out-exercise a bad diet.
Whether you exercise once a week or six days a week, what you put in your body dictates how that body performs and heals. You may need to find a new love language, and it will be hard. Believe me, I was almost disowned for suggesting my parents switch from white rice to brown rice!
Change = GrowthPermalink
I’ve had to rehaul my digestive system multiple times to heal my skin. The longest-lasting healing came from conscientious dietary changes—not necessarily caloric restriction, but a fundamental shift in what I chose to consume.
Our willingness to eat mindfully is responsible for so much more than weight loss. The gut microbiome is essentially our “second brain.” According to research published by the NIH:
“Much of the gut’s influence on the brain seems to be driven by the gut microbiome… A study led by Thaiss found that mice’s gut microbiomes influence their motivation to exercise. The team found that mice that were more inclined to run had different microbiomes than their sedentary brethren… Certain fatty acid metabolites generated by the microbes in exercise-loving mice stimulate nerves in the gut that send signals to the brain to produce dopamine, a brain hormone associated with pleasure.”
If your gut is inflamed, your motivation to move—to get onto the trails or into the gym—isn’t just a matter of “willpower.” It’s a matter of biology.
Grounding for Growth: Actionable StepsPermalink
- Do you have a “Love Language”?
Reflect on how you receive and give love. If it’s tied to inflammatory foods, try a “pairing” technique.
- Example: Enjoy the traditional meal with family, but pair it with a 10-minute walk together afterward to help with glucose processing.
- Reimaging the “Boba” Fix
Find a version of your comfort connection that fuels your energy rather than draining it. Focus on the experience over the ingredient.
- Example: You use a specific food ritual to decompress after a long day or to celebrate a milestone with friends. If you’re craving boba, try a version with no added sugar or swap the heavy dessert for a premium tea or a walk to a local park. You get the same dopamine hit of “celebration” or “rest” without the inflammatory crash that ruins your motivation the next morning.
To Be Continued…Permalink
We know that your gut is the engine that drives your desire to move. But how do we actually “ground” ourselves more healthfully when life, family traditions, and high-stress careers pull us toward the very habits that inflame us?
In Part 2 I’ll share the specific movement habits and environmental shifts I used to maintain my recovery, and how you can reclaim your energy—and your confidence—without losing your seat at the family table.
Stay tuned for the practical ideas reclaiming your “second brain.”
