Yesterday, I started my day with a strawberry protein shake and a bowl of plain oatmeal after completing an hour-long strength-training workout. For lunch, I had my requisite egg on avocado toast with ice water and a clementine. Then someone offered to buy me pizza, so naturally I accepted. Then I had three tacos for dinner. Then a cupcake. Then another slice of pizza. Then three Oreos. Then two gummy snacks. Then a coffee. Honestly, I am horrifying myself thinking of the amount of food that I ate, but I’m not some glutton who can’t control herself. I have some self-control in many aspects of life—well, not many, but a few. The truth is, with college comes a lot of free food and the compulsion to go out to meals and order food just because you’re bored. It’s a part of college life that brings a sense of community. But it really comes back to bite you.

When you don’t feed your body the right fuel, you feel sluggish and bloated and even more terrible than you do after you’ve only had your typical six hours of sleep that a college student can afford to spare. Some can subsist off of oat bars and black coffee, but for most, me included, that really isn’t all it takes. You need proteins and fruits and vegetables and grains and liquids. And no, raspberry or passion fruit-flavored grain liquor does not count. I’m here to attest, however, to the fact that eating clean in college is hard. Temptation is out there and when eating becomes a social element of your college experience, it’s hard to escape the taunting aroma of mozzarella sticks at 11:30 on a Friday night.

Going into my freshman year of college, I was committed to the idea that I would be fit in college and only eat proteins and vegetables and drink electrolyte water and never let a carbohydrate come near my mouth and go to the gym everyday and have a body like Candace Swanepoel. I cannot even begin to stress to you how poorly this went. Within the first week of school, I had paid several visits to the late night food depot The Bronco and had my share of chicken tenders, onion rings, grilled cheeses, and curly fries. Aside from the fact that I slowly but surely shutting down my arteries with my high intake of fat and cholesterol, I’d wake up feeling even worse than if I’d just spent the night before swilling questionable beverages at seedy frat houses. I did my best, from that week forward, to avoid the dreaded Freshman 15 and eat plenty of lean meats with sautéed veggies. But alas, that free pizza offer always got me.

It’s not like I gained a ton of weight my freshman year, or anything noticeable by that standard. I just noticed how awful I felt when I didn’t eat things that I should. It’s a lot easier when you’re in high school and your mother, who learned the hard way (just like you are now) how to eat right, cooked and portioned and served your meals for you. She’d force you to eat the vegetables on your plate with the threat of grounding or rescinding your allowance. She knew just how much oil and butter and salt and pepper to use and how long to cook the tilapia and asparagus. She let you know if and when dessert would be served. She would give you a knowing look if you were eating too fast. But now, it’s up to you to make all those decisions and it’s hard.

The social aspect of eating in college is what really, really gets you. It’s not uncommon for friends to suggest going out for a meal at some swanky location like Chipotle or In-N-Out, and suddenly you find yourself deep in the deliciousness guac and animal-style fries. Sure, it tastes good in the moment, but when it comes back to wreck your bowels the next day, you’ll be wishing that you’d passed on the burrito bowl and opted for something less hearty instead. Even on just a night in, you’ll find yourself suggesting that you all order a pizza, despite the salmon and rice you had for dinner and the three brews you just downed. There’s a strong factor of community in eating. There’s a reason Jesus called his disciples to share one last meal together. It’s because in sharing a meal, that symbolic breaking of bread binds you together in a similar fashion to the way gluten fibers create that airy, fluffy goodness of a loaf of sourdough.

As if it’s bad enough to choose from the tantalizing selection of the dining hall or the temptation of going out to eat, once you move off campus and are expected to cook for yourself, the laziness factor suddenly kicks in. When you finish a long, arduous day of classes and work and studying and not eating because you just didn’t have the time, the last thing you want to do is stand over a hot stove, preparing some subpar meal that’s under-seasoned and overcooked. There are a lot of frozen healthy options out there that require a microwave and three minutes of your time, but it’s so much easier to order take-out Thai and wait for it as you lounge on your couch and track your deliveryman on DoorDash.

There’s nothing wrong with the occasional pig-out fest. It’s not a crime to have a “cheat day” and just go wild with that bag of chips you impulsively bought from Safeway. Watching a movie is always made better by popcorn and candy, and that’s a fact that can never be disputed. Sometimes ice cream really does cure all evils. But it’s important to remember that you must have everything in life in moderation. You shouldn’t be gobbling down junk every night of the week, but if it’s a Monday and you want a pack of M&M’s to go with your Bachelorette, then so be it. Just don’t do the same for every night of the week. I’m not a fan of being cheesy (I am, however, a huge fan of cheese), but your body really is a temple and you only get one. Eat what you want, but you are what you eat. When your body craves sugar, give it a strawberry instead of a spoonful of Phish Food. When you’re thirsty, don’t guzzle down a soda; opt for ice water instead. But when your body wants Sour Cream and Cheddar Ruffle Chips, you better give it those bad boys, because it’s a sin to skimp on those suckers.