It hit me one quiet morning, not with a crash but with a click—as if a puzzle piece had finally slid into place. This wasn’t a diet. It wasn’t a quick fix or a set of rigid rules to follow. It was a lifestyle. An N=1 experiment where I was both the subject and the scientist. There were no one-size-fits-all answers—only questions that led deeper into my own biology, my history, my patterns. I would need to test, observe, tweak. I would need to learn how specific foods affected my mood, my sleep, my spirit. I thought I was just cutting carbs. I was actually stepping into a lifelong relationship with myself.

I wish I had known that electrolytes aren’t optional, at least not at the beginning of keto. Low carb diets reduce insulin levels, which leads the body to excrete more sodium and water, potentially causing dehydration and mineral imbalance. This can be especially noticeable when shifting from a nutrient-poor diet. A few months in, I experienced symptoms that lingered until I discovered I needed to support my body with minerals.

I wish I had understood that cravings and emotional eating don’t disappear overnight. Keto can affect hunger hormones, but habits and emotional patterns often take longer to shift. Many people, whether pursuing better health or weight loss, want quick results. But the real key is patience. Rushing the process can backfire. It’s important to take time to understand how your body responds. Everyone’s metabolism is different. Also, if you’re on medication, it’s crucial to work with a qualified healthcare provider when making changes.

I wish I knew that blood sugar and ketones don’t tell the whole story. Mood, energy, and sleep matter just as much. When you’re doing keto for wellness or mental clarity, being in ketosis helps—but chasing “perfect” numbers can be misleading. I learned that my ketone readings didn’t always align with how I felt. Over time, I came to understand that wellness is about more than numbers—it’s about how you sleep, move through your day, and feel in your own skin.

I wish I had known that my social life might shift. At first, gatherings felt uncomfortable. I didn’t want to explain my food choices or feel like the odd one out. But I found simple strategies that helped: bringing my own dishes, setting kind boundaries, and redefining what connection meant. It wasn’t about shared dessert—it was about shared laughter, conversation, and presence. Some relationships grew stronger, some changed, but I stayed grounded in my values, and that made a difference.

Alongside these lessons are things I’m glad I didn’t know. For example, I didn’t know how much effort it would take to overcome years of metabolic dysfunction. Certain medications can make this journey even more difficult, impacting blood sugar, hunger, and energy levels. Keto helped soothe the cravings and stabilize my energy, but progress came slowly. If I had known how steep the climb would be, I might have hesitated.

I’m also glad I didn’t know how profoundly my relationship with food would change. I began keto with a simple goal: better health. But I didn’t expect the deep transformation in how I viewed food. Meals became nourishment, not a coping mechanism. I started to notice how certain foods brought clarity and peace, while others brought fog and fatigue. I continued this lifestyle not because it was easy, but because it gave me calm and steadiness.

Looking back, there’s a gentle irony in it all. There were answers I desperately wanted early on—shortcuts, guarantees—that might have eased the journey. But there were truths I’m grateful I didn’t see coming. If I had known how hard some moments would be, I might have paused. If I had known how deeply I’d change, I might have doubted myself. But the unknown offered me space to grow. Sometimes not knowing is a gift—it allows us to discover resilience, joy, and insight we didn’t know we had.