This year has been defined by a series of self-imposed constraints. Most notably, my New Ye’s Resolution to listen exclusively to Kanye West has dominated my auditory landscape. This experiment in creative immersion has taught me a great deal about focus and the power of narrowing one’s options to produce better results. As I sit here in November, looking toward the end of the year and the milestone of my thirtieth birthday, I have decided to apply this same logic of intentional constraint to my diet; I am becoming a pescatarian.
This decision did not emerge from a vacuum. Back in May, I decided to test my willpower by going entirely vegan for a week. At the time, I expected it to be a gruelling ordeal that would leave me craving dairy and meat within forty-eight hours. To my surprise, the experience was remarkably straightforward. I found that removing animal products from my plate required more thought but less struggle than I anticipated. It forced me to actually look at labels and consider the composition of my meals. However, as the week ended, I realised that a permanent shift to veganism felt a step too far for my current lifestyle. I am not ready to give up the convenience and joy of eggs, cheese or chocolate. These items provide a level of culinary satisfaction that I am unwilling to sacrifice entirely.
Finding the right balance through seafood
While a vegetarian path seemed the most logical next step, I hit a significant mental block: seafood. There are certain culinary traditions that I am simply not prepared to abandon. The most prominent of these is the tradition of smoked salmon on Christmas morning. It is a ritual that marks the start of the holiday for me; it is something I look forward to with genuine excitement. Beyond that, the variety and nutritional profile of fish offer a middle ground that feels sustainable. I enjoy the complexity of seafood, from a simple grilled sea bass to the rich textures of shellfish. By choosing to be a pescatarian, I am retaining the parts of my diet that I truly love while cutting out the mindless consumption of land-based meats.
In my role as a Producer, I often talk about the importance of defining the scope of a project. If the scope is too broad, the quality of the output suffers because resources are spread too thin. If the scope is too narrow, the end product might be technically perfect but lack the necessary features to be useful. My diet has felt like a project with no scope for a long time. I have been eating whatever is most convenient, which usually means some form of chicken or beef thrown into a pan. By defining myself as a pescatarian, I am setting a clear boundary. This constraint will, I believe, lead to a higher quality of life and a more creative approach to my health.
The end of the easy-cook era
For most of my adult life, I have been a lazy cook. My default setting involves frying up a bit of chicken because it is fast and requires almost zero cognitive load. This habit has served me well during busy agency weeks where I get home late and just want to refuel. However, this reliance on simple animal proteins has stunted my growth in the kitchen. I have reached a point where I realised I do not actually know how flavours work. I have no real understanding of which herbs compliment each other or how to build a complex profile without relying on the fat and salt of meat. I have been operating on a baseline level of culinary execution, focusing on speed over substance.
Becoming pescatarian forces me to branch out. When you remove the easy option of a chicken breast, you have to start thinking about spices, pulses and fresh produce. I need to learn the architecture of a meal. I want to understand why coriander works with lime or how to use rosemary to elevate a vegetable dish. This is a learning curve I am excited to climb. I want to treat my kitchen like a design studio: a place of experimentation where I can test different combinations and refine the final output. The goal is to move away from “refuelling” and toward “dining”.
Having a vegan partner is a significant advantage in this transition. Since she already avoids all animal products, I find myself cooking for both of us more often. This naturally leads to many of our evening meals being entirely vegan. It simplifies the logistics of a shared household and ensures that I am consistently eating high-quality, plant-based food. I do not have to worry about cross-contamination or preparing two entirely different dishes. Instead, I can focus on making a stellar vegan base and then adding my own cheese or a piece of fish if I feel the need. It is a collaborative process that makes the lifestyle change feel like a shared journey rather than a solitary struggle.
The physical and mental cost of stagnation
As I approach thirty, the reality of my physical health has started to catch up with me. In my early twenties, I could eat anything and still feel energetic. Now, both my brain and body feel old, fat and slow. The mental fog that follows a heavy, meat-laden meal is becoming a hindrance to my productivity. In an agency environment, I need to be sharp. I need to be able to manage multiple workstreams, lead workshops and make quick decisions without feeling like I need a nap at three in the afternoon. My current diet is not supporting the high-stakes performance I demand of myself.
I have started to view my body as a system that requires better inputs. If I want to maintain a high level of output, I cannot continue to fuel myself with low-grade, convenient foods. This shift to a pescatarian diet is as much about cognitive health as it is about physical weight. I want to feel lighter and more agile. I want to wake up feeling ready to tackle the day instead of dragging myself through the morning. There is a sense of urgency now that I am entering a new decade. I want to ensure that the next ten years are my most productive and healthy yet.
This change is also a response to the pace of my career. The live broadcast and startup world is relentless; it requires a level of stamina that I currently lack. By cleaning up my diet and focusing on nutrient-dense foods, I am investing in my own longevity as a leader. It is about building a foundation that can sustain the pressures of growth and the challenges of the industry.
Moving forward with intention
Making this choice in November gives me a few weeks to adjust before the madness of the festive season begins. I want to go into December with a clear sense of my new boundaries. I want to navigate the office parties and family dinners with a firm commitment to my pescatarian goals. It is not about deprivation; it is about choosing a different kind of abundance. It is about discovering new ingredients and mastering new skills. Most importantly, it is about taking control of my health before I reach that thirty-year milestone.
The transition from a meat-eater to a pescatarian is a strategic move. It is an acknowledgment that my previous habits were no longer serving my goals. By introducing this constraint, I am opening the door to a more disciplined and thoughtful way of living. I am looking forward to the challenge of the kitchen and the clarity of mind that I hope will follow. Just as Kanye’s music has provided a specific soundtrack to my year, this new diet will provide a specific structure to my daily life. I am ready to see where this path leads and how it transforms my approach to both work and wellness.
