NICOLE GRAY: I used to eat nearly 5kg of sugar each month – then I cut down my sugar intake for six weeks. Now my moods are more even and my skin is clearer – here’s my story

From as far back as I can remember, I have always craved one sensation above all else: the sugar high. I didn’t, however, realise the extent to which sugar had become a quiet puppeteer in my life until the day I tried to stop eating it.

As a child, pudding was part of every meal. My nan always had a biscuit tin at the ready and when we visited she’d smile as she pressed something sweet into my hand. We weren’t a particularly tactile family, and I think that was her way of showing she cared.

A sweet treat was a reward for doing well at school, for soothing me when I was hurt, for birthday celebrations, movie nights, quiet Sundays. Whatever the occasion, sugar was always the answer.

The need for daily sweets continued into adulthood, waning slightly when replaced with alcohol and menthol cigarettes during my youth, only to return after I gave up my party days and became a mum (my children are now two and four).

The slow slide back into that familiar dependency started subtly – a biscuit with morning coffee here, a chocolate bar because I had been up all night with the kids and ‘needed the energy’ there. Sugar became a way of smoothing the edges when I was tired or stressed.

I would make light of it, but between mocha coffees, biscuits and marshmallow bars I was consuming more than 150g of sugar on the average weekday, 200g on weekends. The recommended daily allowance is 30g, equivalent to one regular-sized chocolate bar.

To be clear, I was fully aware that consuming this much sugar was bad for me. But that’s the thing with addiction: it’s not about logic. It’s about the urge to soothe yourself, to feel normal, keep the habit going. Even as your rational self is listing the reasons you shouldn’t.

Part of the problem was also that, on paper, nothing looked alarming. I have always been a healthy size for my age and height (38, 5ft 3in, 8st 9lb at the time of writing). At annual check-ups, my body’s functions were in good working order. I don’t have a single filling, shockingly.

But acknowledging the chasm between my sugar consumption and that of every other adult I knew became unnerving. I began to wonder what damage I was doing to my insides, and how it could be dictating my future. I wanted to start making the right decisions while they were still mine to make.

When I finally decided to quit all the sweet treats for two weeks, I was surprised to feel a sort of grief. But I was losing more than just chocolate – I was letting go of the rituals and connection I had built with sugar since childhood.

The first few days (as you’ll see from my diary below) were the hardest. My body protested with headaches, irritability, sadness and aches behind my eyes. It wasn’t the cravings that shook me, although they were definitely present. It was the quiet that came when those cravings passed, especially around day six, when most of the physical withdrawal symptoms had subsided. Without sugar to mute discomfort or pass the time, I was left to sit with all the feelings I had dulled with sweets for years. Stress. Boredom. Fatigue. They were all there, and it felt uncomfortable.

It was also messy. I snapped at people I love. I paced the kitchen at odd hours when I couldn’t sleep. I nearly gave in more times than I can count. But each time I stepped back from the edge, I became stronger, more determined not to crack.

I began to recognise when I was stressed instead of hungry – when a craving was a reflex rather than a genuine desire. And while I’m not advocating that everyone should ditch sugar completely – which is just as well, as it’s laced into almost everything we eat – I believe there’s value in noticing the why behind the wanting. In asking yourself what the sweetness is a substitute for or whether it’s purely habitual. Because once you start paying attention to that, you might discover that the craving isn’t for sugar at all – it’s for comfort, distraction or reassurance.

The sweet-treat-free diet: how Nicole coped 

DAY 1

Sugar swaps

★ 2 large skinny mochas → 2 large skinny lattes (24g sugar)

★ 1 chocolate and vanilla marshmallow bar → 1 pear (10g sugar)

★ 1 orange juice that almost got me sacked (25g sugar)

Total sugar consumed 59g; still a long way to go.

Mood Uncharacteristically irritable. I feel like someone has removed my batteries.

Lusting after Marshmallow bars. Any flavour.

6am Wake up with the resolve of someone preparing for battle. I choke down a sugar-free latte that tastes like warm disappointment. I’m convinced this is what Gwyneth Paltrow sips as a treat before levitating into her cryotherapy pod.

11am Brain staging a coup. My thoughts are foggy. My heart feels heavy. I’m absurdly sad. I feel unsettlingly quiet, too – as though someone has unplugged me. I start to worry that my entire personality has been propped up by sugar.

3pm Disaster. My boss has caught me necking an orange juice like it was an illicit substance. She raises an eyebrow. ‘It’s natural sugar!’ I shriek. Then, because my brain has turned feral, I add, ‘I am surviving cold turkey!’ The entire office stares and images of a P45 flash through my mind.

10pm Go to bed annoyed. How on earth is this only day one?

DAY 2

Sugar swaps

★ 2 large skinny mochas → 1 small skinny latte (9g sugar)

★ 1 chocolate and vanilla marshmallow bar → 1 apple (10g sugar)

★ Zero juice – fool me once

Total sugar consumed 19g.

Mood Twitchy and restless.

Lusting after A large mocha. Or a small one. I’ll take whatever is on offer.

8am Pick a fight with my husband about whose turn it is to take the bins out, an argument so petty it should be funny, but it isn’t. Coffee without sugar is an insult to humanity. I’ve cut my lattes down to one a day as I find them hard to drink as they taste like cardboard.

2pm The withdrawal headache has started. I also feel twitchy, restless, like my own skin is too tight. I google ‘How long does sugar withdrawal last?’ One article says two to three days. Another says months. Months? I’m not sure I’ll make it to dinner. I try to write an article, but my brain feels wrapped in cotton wool.

11pm I can’t sleep. I close my eyes, but it feels like they’re still open, wide and wired. The headache refuses to leave. Thoughts of tomorrow’s meeting spiral in my mind, each one reminding me that I’ll be tired and deprived of the mocha that normally saves me. I’m exhausted, irritated, and – honestly? – I am so sick of this.

DAY 3

Sugar swaps

★ 2 large skinny mochas → no coffee; not even a sniff

★ 1 chocolate and vanilla marshmallow bar → 1 apple (10g sugar)

Total sugar consumed 10g.

Mood On. The. Edge.

Lusting after Something that tastes like sanity.

8am My mood is somewhere between ‘Don’t talk to me’ and ‘Don’t even look at me’. Our lovely receptionist says ‘Good morning’ to me. Is it a good morning, Tina? I spend most of it trying to focus, but my brain feels too small for my skull. Everyone else is laughing, chatting. I want to crawl under my desk.

2pm I feel exposed, like this craving has stripped away my defences and left me feeling fragile, impatient and verging on pathetic. I keep telling myself it will pass, but right now it feels like grief. Grief for something I didn’t know I depended on this much.

6pm I try reading. I try meditating. I try scrolling, which, of course, makes everything worse. I keep thinking about how easy it would be to give up and just have one thing – one square of chocolate, one spoonful of ice cream, literally anything sweet. But I don’t. I’m clinging to the thin hope that tomorrow won’t feel like wading through emotional cement. Finally say sorry to my husband for bin-gate.

DAY 4  

Sugar swaps

★ 2 large skinny mochas → 1 skinny flat white; milkier, incrementally sweeter (6g sugar)

★ 1 holiday negroni (15g sugar)

★ 1 chocolate and vanilla marshmallow bar → 1 pear (10g sugar)

Total sugar consumed 31g.

Mood Rebellious.

Lusting after S’mores.

7am Wake up tired, as if my dreams have been doing manual labour. Emotionally, I’m fragile. Someone breathes loudly on the tube and I consider getting off three stops early. We’re heading to a family spa for a break later today. Maybe it will be nice.

2pm My kids order the s’mores board after lunch. Furious. That dessert was made for me. I feel provoked. I remind myself I am an adult on a wellness break, not a Victorian child being denied a hot meal. I order a rebellious negroni. Bitter. Defiant. Then I leave the table and go to the room to cool off. Get behind me, Satan.

8pm Feeling better. Less likely to disown my kids. Maybe the negroni took the edge off. My daughter brings a marshmallow back to the room for me and, to my shock, I don’t want to eat it. I think about how much worse today could have gone – the s’mores, the potential spiral, the resentment, the divorce. Instead it ends with a sense of calm control I didn’t expect.

DAY 5

Sugar swaps

★ 2 large skinny mochas → 1 skinny latte; it no longer tastes like cardboard. Win (12g sugar)

★ 1 chocolate and vanilla marshmallow bar → 1 orange (9g)

Total sugar consumed 21g.

Mood OK-ish.

Lusting after Coco Pops.

7.30am Expecting to be greeted by dread and mildly surprised to find less of it. Still tired, still not exactly feeling myself, but the sadness has eased. My brain feels less bruised this morning, like it’s stopped throwing a tantrum and is now just sulking quietly. Progress.

Midday I’m not immediately furious at everyone. A small win. Someone says ‘Morning’ and I even manage a smile that doesn’t feel fake. The cravings are there, but more like background noise than a siren. The jar of welcome cookies in the room doesn’t look as tantalising as it did yesterday.

6pm Dinner is relaxed. I don’t scan the dessert menu like a hawk. I feel lighter, clearer and less spiky. My husband says I seem calmer. I choose not to mention the internal wrestling match it has taken to get me to this point.

DAY 6

Sugar swaps

★ 2 large skinny mochas → 1 skinny latte; it is now the norm (12g sugar)

★ 1 chocolate and vanilla marshmallow bar → nothing today

Total sugar consumed 12g.

Mood Unsettled.

Lusting after The end of this experiment.

7.30am Wake up feeling very aware of myself. My body knows that no sugar is coming. The physical cravings are quieter, but that quietness is brutal. There’s no sugar to mask it. No quick fix. Just me and my thoughts, which are uncomfortable, judgmental and shaming.

2pm Sitting at my desk, I realise boredom feels different without sugar. It’s sharper. Stress hits harder. Fatigue is unavoidable. I have nothing to soften the edges. I have a meeting with my editor to discuss this article and find myself getting teary. I realise I’ve been using sugar as emotional scaffolding to prop me up when life gets stressful. An epiphany I wasn’t expecting.

4pm I spend the rest of the day processing. Sitting with everything instead of icing it over. It’s exhausting in a new way, but also slightly empowering.

DAY 7

Sugar swaps

★ 2 large skinny mochas → 1 latte; my new usual (12g sugar)

★ 1 chocolate and vanilla marshmallow bar → nothing

Total sugar consumed 12g.

Mood Reflective.

Lusting after Nothing. Shockingly.

7am I have finally made the halfway point and expect to wake up elated. But I feel strange. I thought I would be counting down the days until I could eat banoffee pie with a long spoon. Instead, I ask myself if I even want sugar. Turns out, I don’t think I do.

1pm There is still fatigue, stress, impatience, but I realise I can feel all of it without sugar swooping in like a white-coated superhero. This is normal. And it’s OK. I also notice that my clothes have started to fit me better and that I have had several comments on how bright my skin looks.

6pm I talk the experiment through with my husband, who has now also cut down on his sugar intake. This first week has been uncomfortable, painfully frustrating, but also illuminating. I’ve learnt that, for me, sweetness is not about sugar. It’s about comfort, distraction and permission to pause. I now need to enter week two trying to seek those things consciously, without using a spoonful of something sweet as justification.

Picture Editor: Stephanie Belingard; Styling: Jessica Carroll; Hair: Dayna Vaughan-Teague; Make-up: Levi-Jade Taylor at Carol Hayes; Dress, asos.com.