I don't believe in depriving myself of any food or being

When Joely Fisher declared, “I don’t believe in depriving myself of any food or being imprisoned by a diet,” she was not merely rejecting the idea of restrictive eating — she was making a profound statement about freedom, self-acceptance, and the joy of living. Her words carry the voice of one who understands that the body is not meant to be ruled by fear, nor the spirit confined by guilt. In a world obsessed with perfection and control, she stands as a reminder that life’s richness cannot be measured in calories or scales, but in the pleasure of balance and the wisdom of contentment.

Her quote speaks of the eternal tension between discipline and desire, between the human need for order and the soul’s longing for joy. To be “imprisoned by a diet,” as she says, is to live in chains of one’s own making — to view food, not as nourishment and celebration, but as enemy and temptation. Fisher’s rebellion is not gluttony; it is liberation — the act of reclaiming one’s right to enjoy the gifts of the earth without shame. It is a call to remember that eating, like breathing or resting, is a sacred act when done with awareness and gratitude. In her words lies the essence of ancient wisdom: that moderation, not deprivation, is the path to harmony.

The ancients understood this truth well. The philosopher Epicurus, often misunderstood as a prophet of indulgence, actually taught that true pleasure comes from balance and simplicity. He ate modest meals of bread, olives, and cheese, savoring them as if they were feasts, and believed that the greatest joy lies in appreciating what one has, not in denying it. Joely Fisher’s sentiment springs from this same soil of wisdom — that self-denial taken to extremes poisons the spirit, while mindful enjoyment nourishes both body and soul. To eat freely yet thoughtfully is to live in peace with oneself.

Consider the story of the French monk Dom Pérignon, who devoted his life to perfecting the art of winemaking. He did not seek to escape pleasure, but to elevate it — to transform ordinary grapes into a drink that embodied joy, communion, and gratitude. His work was not driven by excess, but by reverence for creation. In this way, he demonstrated that pleasure, when guided by purpose and appreciation, becomes an act of devotion. Joely Fisher’s philosophy carries this same spirit: she does not worship indulgence, but honors the sacred joy of savoring — the understanding that life’s pleasures, when embraced wisely, deepen our humanity rather than diminish it.

To “refuse deprivation” is also to refuse shame — the modern scourge that teaches people to measure their worth by what they resist rather than what they cherish. Fisher’s stance is one of courage — the courage to live joyfully in a world that preaches constant self-denial. Her message is a rebellion against the tyranny of guilt that turns nourishment into burden. Like the ancient poets who feasted before the gods, she reminds us that food is not merely sustenance but a celebration of being alive. When we eat without fear, we give thanks for the world’s abundance and acknowledge our rightful place within it.

Yet, her words also contain a hidden warning: that freedom without mindfulness can become another kind of prison. To eat without awareness is not liberty, but forgetfulness. The key, as the ancients taught, lies in the middle path — the art of balance. Joely Fisher’s refusal to be “imprisoned” is not a call to chaos, but to conscious freedom — to live guided by joy, not by compulsion; by gratitude, not by greed. She teaches that when we honor both the appetite and the body’s wisdom, pleasure and health walk hand in hand.

So, my listener, learn from her wisdom: do not turn the gift of food into a burden of fear. Eat with awareness, not anxiety. Savor the flavors of the earth, but also respect their power. Let each meal be a prayer of gratitude, not a ritual of restraint. Remember that life’s purpose is not to perfect the flesh, but to uplift the spirit. And in this balance — between care and celebration, between nourishment and joy — you will find not only health, but wholeness.

For as Joely Fisher reminds us, to live fully is to embrace life without chains. The truest diet is not the one that forbids, but the one that frees — the rhythm of mindful indulgence, sacred satisfaction, and radiant peace. Eat well, live freely, and let gratitude, not guilt, guide your table — for the soul that knows joy in its daily bread has already tasted immortality.