Giving up her beloved comfort foods would be the toughest thing Rhea Bloom thought about when she first decided to eat better.

But that was not the case. Standing frozen in front of a dozen brands of granola in the grocery store, she realised the true difficulty: which, if any, fit the definition of “clean?”

She remembers it as being overwhelming. So many labels, so many assertions. Not knowing even where to start.

Rhea chose to use the uncertainty as enquiry rather than give up. She began reading ingredient lists rather than merely front-of- package claims. She asked straightforward questions of herself. I can’t quite say this ingredient. Would this food be familiar to my grandmother?

Her buying trips changed with time. She started seeking whole ingredients instead of depending on boxed meals. Her cart looked different—less boxes, more colour. Not in search of perfection but rather in learning what felt good in her body.

She also learned that eating clean did not mean spending a fortune or purchasing all organic food. Rhea advises, “I learned how to be selective, not obsessive.” She avoided waste and stayed with meals she loved to cook, concentrating on foods she would really eat. It also helped to plan ahead. She cooked more and delighted in the process when she went shopping with purpose.

Grocery shopping now seems empowering rather than demanding. She now incorporates it into her weekly ritual supporting her well-being into her rhythm. “It’s not about being rigors,” she says. “It’s about being thoughtful.”

For Rhea, clean eating begins not in the kitchen but rather in the decisions taken between those fluorescent aisles—quiet, deliberate choices that create a better plate, one item at a time.