I'm terrible at sticking to any sort of diet. The more I think I

In the ancient understanding of the human condition, there exists a powerful truth: the nature of desire and restraint is one of the most profound forces within us. Liberty Ross’s admission, "I'm terrible at sticking to any sort of diet. The more I think I can't eat something, the more I want to eat it. And I know this is the most annoying thing for a girl to say, but I'm just really lucky; I can eat pretty much what I want," reveals a universal struggle—a struggle between the mind’s command and the body’s natural inclinations. Her words echo the timeless truth that restriction, whether in diet or in life, often breeds an intensified longing, a pull toward the very thing we seek to avoid.

In the ancient world, this tension between desire and restraint was understood by philosophers such as Socrates and Aristotle. Socrates, in his dialogues, spoke of the difficulty of mastering desire and how often humans are enslaved by it. The philosopher understood that the mind may command one thing, but the desires of the body often rebel. In his teachings, Socrates encouraged his followers to focus on self-mastery, recognizing that the key to true freedom lies not in succumbing to every temptation, but in understanding and harmony with the natural world and our own impulses. Liberty Ross speaks to this very struggle—her desire for the forbidden food arises not from necessity but from the mind’s attempt to impose order over the body’s natural instincts.

Even the Romans, those masters of discipline, understood this delicate balance. Seneca, one of the most influential Stoic philosophers, taught that the human soul is torn between desire and reason, and that the greatest virtue lies in moderation. To him, the body was like a chariot, driven by the soul, but constantly seeking to pull in its own direction. The Roman approach to health was not one of strict deprivation, but of temperance—a balanced life where desires were not ignored, but rather, understood and moderated. Much like Ross, who recognizes her own inclinations and embraces them without excessive guilt, the Romans acknowledged that the struggle between reason and desire is not a battle to be won but a journey of balance.

In the heroic tales of Hercules, we also see this tension between restraint and indulgence. Hercules, though gifted with great strength and willpower, was also deeply human, often facing moments where his desires clashed with his purpose. In his twelve labors, Hercules learned not only to fight external monsters but also to master his own internal battles. His journey is a reflection of what Ross shares in her words: a recognition of our impulses, an acknowledgment of desire, and the power that comes from choosing how we engage with it. Hercules did not deny his desires but sought to transform them, to use them as a source of strength rather than letting them consume him.

The ancients knew that true balance comes not from fighting against our desires, but from understanding them and choosing to act in a way that honors both our body and our spirit. Ross, in her moment of candid reflection, does not demonize her desires but instead reveals the truth that dieting or restraining oneself too harshly can lead to greater longing. Understanding this, the ancients taught us that balance is the ultimate form of freedom. To indulge occasionally is human, but to indulge wisely, with awareness, is the path to lasting fulfillment.

The lesson here is not about abandoning discipline or self-restraint, but about embracing self-awareness. Ross offers us a glimpse into this truth: she does not deny herself the pleasures of life but seeks to enjoy them without guilt, recognizing that restriction alone does not lead to fulfillment. Socrates, Seneca, and other great thinkers of the past would encourage us to adopt this approach—not to rebel against the desires of the body, but to understand them, to recognize that they are part of the human experience. True wisdom lies not in eliminating desire, but in cultivating balance between desire and moderation.

In your own life, consider the tension between desire and discipline. Acknowledge your natural impulses and rather than fighting them, seek to understand them. Let your choices be guided by awareness, not by guilt or shame. Just as Ross has found a way to live without overly restricting herself, so too can you find your path toward fulfillment—not through denial, but through a balanced approach that respects both body and mind. In this way, you will find that true freedom lies not in the absence of desire, but in your ability to choose how to engage with it. Balance is not the enemy of joy; it is the key to lasting peace.