Meal Prep Is Not Nourishment
I grew up watching my grandmother feed nine kids. Frantic, funny, explosive, beautiful, and tired. All of it at once, all day long. I watched her and made a vow: I am never being that woman.
By thirty that vow had become embarrassing. I had a college education, a yoga practice, an Ayurvedic framework, and I could not feed myself. I learned to cook in India, from a woman who had zero patience for my relationship to the kitchen as a political statement. She just cooked. She knew what her body needed. She fed people from fullness, not obligation. Something cracked open watching her.
That crack is what this month is about.
In my practice I see women doing everything right (supplements organized, meal prep done, macros or prana tracked with extraordinary precision) who are profoundly disconnected from their bodies. Meal prep is not a relationship with food. It is food administration. It is logistics. And I am not saying it is bad. I am saying it is not the same thing as nourishment, and we have gotten very comfortable confusing the two.
To the woman for whom meal prep is infrastructure, not aesthetic (the mother up at five, working by seven, forty five minutes between school pickup and bedtime) I see you. I am not asking you to dismantle the one system keeping you functional. But I am asking you one question: when you are prepping on Sunday, are you present? Is there any pleasure in it? Or is it a second job? Logistics with a cutting board?
Because those are two completely different experiences happening in the same kitchen.
Your exhaustion is not an accident. It is a managed condition. And calling the coping strategy the cure is not the answer.
There is a feminist argument that the kitchen is a cage, and that argument has roots. But when second-wave feminism said get out of the kitchen, it accepted the patriarchal premise that the kitchen is a low place. And who stepped into that vacuum? The food industry. The supplement industry. The wellness complex. A woman with no relationship to her own food is a perfect consumer. The feminist rejection of cooking was, structurally, a gift to the market.
Tradwives look like the opposite move. But a tradwife in 2025 has brand deals, a Substack, a following, and more autonomy than most of the women watching her. She is not submitting to anything except the content calendar. She is selling a fantasy of the kitchen to women who will live that reality without the lighting, the income, or the exit option.
Both moves are still letting the assignment set the terms.
Sovereignty looks different. It looks like: I decide what my relationship to my own nourishment is. No performance. No rejection. No brand deal required.
You cannot supplement your way out of dissociation. You cannot meal prep your way back into your body.
About Magnolia Zuniga:
Magnolia Zuniga is a former Certified Ashtanga yoga teacher and one of only 20 women worldwide who were certified by the K. Pattabhi Jois Ashtanga Yoga Institute (KPJAYI) before publicly walking away from the lineage. After abuse allegations against Pattabhi Jois became public, she stopped teaching Ashtanga sequences and lost her certification—choosing survivor solidarity over professional advancement.
She now teaches at ABQ Yoga Lab in Albuquerque, New Mexico, focusing on decolonizing yoga practice, recognizing cult dynamics in spiritual communities, and building accountability in yoga spaces. She speaks publicly about institutional abuse, guru culture, and what yoga becomes when you remove the harmful power structures.
Find me at www.magnoliazuniga.com and https://www.youtube.com/@MagnoliaSezSo
