This Is How Frozen Yogurt Was Invented

We want things to be fair. Even. Balanced.

And when they’re not, we squint. Just a little. Tilt our heads. Reframe the picture.

He didn’t really mean it.

It’s just a phase.

This is fine.

But it’s not. And our denial doesn’t make it go away — it just blinds us to the board we’re playing on. It’s like playing chess and refusing to acknowledge your opponent moved a knight. You can ignore it, sure, but it doesn’t change the fact that checkmate is still coming.

This is how frozen yogurt was invented.

Someone looked at the truth — ice cream is bad for you — and thought, “What if we just made a colder, sadder version and pretended it was good?” Balance, but with sprinkles.

Here’s the thing: junk food does taste better. You can destroy trust in a second that took years to build. The body remembers what you’d rather forget. The world is not symmetrical, and some days the odds are not in your favor.

I don’t know what to tell you.

Except maybe this: observing imbalance doesn’t make you negative. It makes you honest. And that honesty—if met with neutrality, not panic — becomes power.

When we stop resisting the parts of life that don’t add up, we stop wasting energy trying to bend reality into a shape it doesn’t want to hold. We get to see. And only from seeing clearly can we choose wisely.

This isn’t about defeat. It’s about discernment. It’s about deciding which side you want to be on—not to avoid the mess, but to navigate it without illusion.

Because once you name the artificial sweetener for what it is, you can finally go find some real damn joy.