Every Sunday, I tell my friends I’m meal prepping for the week but the truth is, I’m just ordering takeout and repackaging it into containers like some kind of domestic illusionist.

It started out innocent. My friends would talk about how productive their Sundays were cooking, cleaning, setting their lives in order and I wanted to fit in. So I said I was doing the same. I even bought a label maker and matching glass containers. It looked so put-together that even I started to believe the lie.

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In reality, I’d order a bunch of takeout, portion it out, toss the bags and receipts before anyone saw them, and line everything up in my fridge like a Pinterest post. When people come over and say, “Wow, you’re so organized,” I just smile and play along like I actually made that chicken teriyaki myself.

Last weekend, I was sitting there eating one of my so-called “prepped” meals when it hit me I’ve been living a double life as a fake healthy person. It’s weirdly funny and sad at the same time. I want to be that version of myself who actually cooks and has it all together, but I also know that sometimes, survival looks like faking structure just to feel in control.

It’s not just about food it’s about how easy it is to perform being okay. How much of what we show people is just carefully plated takeout in containers that make it look like we’re thriving.

I’m not proud… but I’m also kind of proud. Because even if I’m faking meal prep, I guess I’m still managing in my own messy, takeout-fueled way.

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