Joe Wicks recently shared on Instagram that he’s been in a sugar slump, “eating his emotions” and bingeing on ultra‑processed foods that left him feeling sluggish, bloated, and moody. He described the drive as “so highly addictive that it’s hard to snap out of it” before promising to “get my [stuff] together” and reset. He also regularly talks about his parents and family’s struggles with addiction, it’s impact and his mums eating disorder.
I like Joe Wicks and being open about struggles is positive —but his language (“addictive,” “relapse,” “good vs bad”) can seep into the way we talk about ourselves.
Charged language around addiction when people are crippled by its grip and lives are ruined by it, trivialises real recovery. The problem with Joe and other public disordered eating, particularly this glorifying of the binge restrict cycle, is that we end up talking about a packet of Jaffa cakes like it’s a heroin habit and that is deeply problematic in all areas of our lives.
It fuels unnecessary shame around food and highlights the poverty and privilege gap in society food options. We can do better when we talk about health and words matter, research is rich with examples, so it’s worth considering how words shape our relationship with food, movement, and mindset. Demonising anything is toxic as we know from pain recovery, movement teaching and more.
Parallels in Language: Pain, Yoga, and Misinformation
The words we use really matter. In pain science, phrases like “your back is broken”, “be careful of that movement/form/activity” or “you should feel pain” can cement fear, making people more guarded or avoidant—even when movement could help. Similarly, in some yoga or movement circles, terms like “correct posture or you’ll injure yourself,” or “your body is misaligned” can be alarmist and unhelpful—especially without context or evidence.
Just like with food: framing a “slip” or “relapse” as a moral failure—or calling foods “good” or “bad”—adds shame and self‑judgment. Instead, we can opt for language that opens curiosity and supports resilience. It’s not about demonizing sugar or bending ourselves into perfect arbitrary poses; it’s about learning, adjusting and giving grace to ourselves along the way.
When we pay attention to the words we use—whether talking about sugar, pain, or postures—we hold power.
Language isn’t just vocabulary; it’s the lens through which we view struggles and strengths. Language lands. Language influences.
We have a responsibility to ourselves and to anyone we work with to speak with evidence, empathy and humanity.
So let’s stick with Joe Wicks for his honesty, warmth and a teachable moment- but speak to ourselves more wisely: with less fear, fewer labels and a lot more compassion not constriction
