Inquisitive.me

You don’t wake up one day and suddenly believe your body is fragile.

You’re taught.

Scroll through social media for five minutes and you’ll see it everywhere—subtle at first, then louder, more dramatic, more convincing. A small discomfort becomes a “serious issue.” A normal variation becomes a “hidden problem.” And before you know it, you start questioning your own body.

That’s the nocebo effect in action.

And right now, it’s trending.

Fear sells. It always has. Newspapers figured that out decades ago. Social media just made it faster, louder, and far more personal.

Because here’s the thing: most people don’t really understand how their body works. And that’s not their fault. But when you don’t understand something, you’re more likely to believe what you’re told—especially if it sounds scientific, urgent, and comes with a clear solution.

If you don’t understand your body, you’ll believe anyone who claims they do.

That’s why entire industries are built on this.

Supplement companies popping up everywhere. Tools that promise to “fix” your body. Devices targeting muscles you didn’t even know existed yesterday. The piriformis reliever. The posture corrector. The spine fixer.

And here’s the scary part: supplements aren’t regulated like actual medication. They’re sold as “wellness”—which basically means you can promise a lot without having to prove it.

In theory, any one of us could go full Walter White—mix something in a basement, put a label on it, and sell it online the next day. As long as you keep the claims vague enough, you’re good to go.

Same with many of these devices. You can look people straight in the eye, tell them it fixes their problem—and no one really checks if it actually does.

And once you start seeing it, you realize something else:

It always follows the same script.

First, create the problem.
Then, amplify the fear.
Finally, sell the solution.

If you grew up in the 90s, you’ve seen this before—just in a different format. Teleshopping didn’t disappear. It evolved. The only difference is: back then, they sold you convenience. Now, they sell you insecurity.

And I see the consequences of that every single day in my practice.

People walk in convinced their body is broken. That their back is fragile. That lifting weights will destroy their spine. That their posture has “ruined” them. That they need a specific tool, supplement, or technique to function normally again.

And I spend a significant part of my time undoing that damage.

Explaining that their body is not as fragile as they’ve been led to believe.
That pain doesn’t equal damage.
That movement is not the enemy.
That they don’t need a €100 gadget to “release” something that isn’t even the problem.

It’s exhausting—not because I don’t want to educate, but because it steals time from what actually matters: building capacity, creating habits, and helping people solve their problem long-term instead of chasing short-term fixes.

And it’s not just social media.

Sometimes, it’s us. Healthcare professionals.

Outdated beliefs. Poor communication. Overly complex explanations that sound impressive but leave patients feeling dependent instead of empowered.

That’s not care.

That’s a business model.

Create uncertainty. Maintain control. Keep people coming back.

I’m already earning my living from people who are suffering. That’s the reality of healthcare.

The least I can do is not build a system that keeps them there.
That’s unethical.

And I refuse to be part of that.

My job is not to make people need me forever. My job is to make myself unnecessary.

I explain. I educate. I give people the tools to understand what’s happening in their body—so they can make their own decisions, adjust when needed, and trust themselves again.

Sometimes that means ending therapy earlier than expected.

Not because I don’t care. Not because I’m out of options.

But because they don’t need me anymore.

And honestly? That’s the goal.

I always tell them: come back if you need to. And many do. Not because they have to—but because they want guidance, not dependence.

From a business perspective, that might not be the smartest move.

But I was never interested in building a system that profits from people feeling broken.

I grew up differently.

My dad used to say, when someone didn’t pay for treatment: “That animal didn’t choose its owner. I’ll still do my best to help it.”

And that stuck with me.

Because at the end of the day, this isn’t about maximizing profit.

It’s about doing the right thing—even when no one is watching.

Even if it means spending extra time.
Even if it means creating plans outside of paid sessions.
Even if it means giving people what they need… without charging for every single step.

Because health shouldn’t feel like a subscription model.

And your body was never meant to be something you’re afraid of.

🧪 Let’s Experiment

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Start questioning what you consume before it starts shaping what you believe.

You don’t need more tools. You need better filters.

🎯 Try This:

For the next 7 days, run everything health-related you see through this quick filter:

• What problem is this creating?
  (Did I even know I had this before watching?)
• How much fear is involved?
  (Is this informative—or is it trying to scare me?)
• Is there actual proof—or just confident language?
  (Buzzwords ≠ evidence)
• Who benefits if I believe this?
  (Me—or the person selling something?)
• Would I still care about this if no product was attached?

Want to make it more obvious? Turn it into a quick score:

→ 0 = no bullshit
→ 1 = questionable
→ 2 = high bullshit potential

The higher the total score, the more careful you should be.

Soon, you’ll start seeing patterns faster than you think.

🧠 Final Thought:

The less you outsource your health, the more control you get back.

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Keep it simple, stay curious, and keep learning—you’ve got this.

Take care,

Carina 🦊