I’ve Failed Every Diet — Can Keto Work for Me? Shortcuts, Stumbles & the Weird Truth No One Told You
The Long Road Is Lined with Good Intentions (and Burnt Zucchini Noodles)
It always starts the same, doesn’t it? You clean out the pantry—goodbye, Oreos—and stock up on coconut flour, heavy cream, and hope. Maybe you download a shiny new app. Maybe you even spend $200 on grass-fed beef you’ll forget in the freezer.
Then, two weeks in—bam. Something goes sideways. You feel like garbage, eat a piece of garlic bread that tastes like heaven and shame, and tell yourself: I can’t even do keto right.
Listen—most people take the long road with keto because they believe the myth that hard equals effective. That complexity equals credibility. But what if the map is upside down?
What if the shortcuts—the messy, unfiltered, totally human ones—are where the real transformation hides?
Let’s explore that mess, shall we?
1. Just Start. Even If It’s Ugly. Especially Then.
Okay, this one’s going to piss off the keto purists.
You don’t need to start keto with a 5-day bone broth fast, a macro calculator, and a perfectly plated salmon-zoodle-tower that looks like something off @ketoqueens on Instagram. You can literally start with cheese sticks, bacon, and determination.
I did.
That first week? I lived off pepperoni slices, gas station hard-boiled eggs, and sugar-free Jell-O. It was hideous. But I dropped 7 pounds. Was it water weight? Who cares—I felt like a goddess made of bacon and mild self-respect.
They call it dirty keto. I call it “I-don’t-have-time-for-your-recipe-blog keto.” It’s messy. It’s real. And it works enough to get you to the next step, which is more than most plans ever give you.
(Also, spoiler alert: your body doesn’t care if your avocado is organic or from the depths of Amazon Fresh.)
2. Don’t Track Carbs. Track the Chaos.
People say “track your macros.” Okay, sure. But what if—hear me out—you tracked your meltdowns instead?
See, I didn’t quit keto because I ate too many net carbs. I quit because I had a fight with my boyfriend, was bloated from stress, and then found myself at 11:17 PM rage-eating cereal over the sink. That’s the real threat. The chaos moments.
So try this: every time you get the urge to quit, eat junk, or scroll DoorDash like it’s a dating app—write down what happened right before. Like a crime scene. It sounds weird, but after a week or two, you start noticing patterns.
Mine? I always wanted carbs after social anxiety. Or when I hadn’t slept. Or after watching someone make banana bread on TikTok (I still don’t know why).
The point is: keto isn’t just about macros. It’s about patterns. Disrupt them, and the diet starts sticking to your life like butter to a hot pan.
3. Eat the Same Damn Thing. Every. Day. (Kind of.)
Decision fatigue is real. Like, painfully real. By 5 PM, if I have to make one more choice, I’m choosing wine and French fries. That’s just who I am.
So I started doing something radical: I ate the same lunch every day for two weeks.
Ground beef. A little cheddar. Frozen spinach. Garlic salt. Done.
Was it thrilling? Not exactly. But it was delicious and easy and required zero mental energy. And honestly? There’s something soothing about predictable food when the rest of your life feels like a runaway shopping cart.
Some people call it “autopilot meals.” I call it “survival with style.”
(Plus, have you seen what food prices are doing right now? Inflation is basically doing intermittent fasting for us.)
4. More Salt. Like, Way More Than You Think.
No one talks about this enough, and I don’t know why—maybe it’s because salt isn’t sexy. But if you feel like garbage on keto? It’s probably not carbs. It’s probably sodium.
Your body flushes out salt when insulin drops. So you get tired. Headaches. Heart pounding. Like you’re dying—but slower.
I once thought I had COVID again. Turned out I needed a teaspoon of sea salt and a glass of water. No joke.
I now add salt to everything. Eggs. Coffee (yes, coffee). Even water. You’ll feel like you’re breaking some unspoken rule, but then—boom. Mental clarity. Energy. No more “keto flu.”
You’ll feel like your cells are finally on your side.
5. Stop Worshipping the Scale. Worship the Shift.
The number lied to me. It told me nothing changed. But my jeans—my faithful, judgmental jeans—disagreed. They slid on without the familiar thigh resistance.
People obsess over the scale. They weigh daily, sometimes hourly. They panic over a pound gained, even if they just drank a glass of water. It’s nonsense. The scale is a compulsive liar with boundary issues.
Here’s what I started tracking instead:
- Sleep quality
- Afternoon crashes (or lack of)
- Skin texture (no more pizza-face!)
- Libido (uh, hi there)
- Not needing a snack every 90 minutes
- Feeling proud after saying no to bread at brunch
These “non-scale victories” saved my keto journey more than any progress photo ever did. Because they reminded me: this isn’t just about weight. It’s about feeling like a human who’s not held together by caffeine and cortisol.
A Shortcut Doesn’t Mean You’re Cheating. It Means You’re Smart Enough to Adapt.
Keto doesn’t need to be a war. It doesn’t need to feel like some elite club where everyone drinks pink Himalayan salt water and judges your fake sweeteners.
You don’t need to earn your transformation through misery.
You can take the shortcuts.
You should take them.
Because if you’ve failed every other diet—maybe you were never failing. Maybe the diets were just allergic to your humanity.
Try the ugly start. Track your chaos. Pick a meal and marry it. Salt your coffee like a wild renegade. Burn your scale in effigy (okay maybe just hide it).
And then? Watch what happens.
You don’t have to believe in keto just yet. But you can believe in trying again—differently this time.
This time, the shortcut is the way.
