howtofeelfuckingamazing.com

The Experiment

Vikki's Mustard Experiment

What happens when you put the one thing you hate on everything you can't stop doing?

I hate mustard. Like, genuinely, deeply, personally hate it. The smell, the colour, the smug way it sits there on a sandwich ruining everything. So when I accidentally became a boredom-fuelled genius, mustard was the unlikely star of my most ridiculous life hack yet.

Here's how it started. My boss brought biscuits into the office. A whole load of them. Now I don't keep biscuits at home — not because I'm disciplined, but because I have absolutely zero self-control and they'd be gone in four minutes. But at work? Different story. They're just sitting there. Being biscuits. And I kept walking past them, telling myself I wasn't going to have one, and then having four.

Willpower wasn't working. Telling myself "no" wasn't working. Avoiding the kitchen wasn't working because at some point you need a coffee and there they are, judging you.

So I took a biscuit. Covered it in mustard. And put it on my desk.

"I didn't need to eat it. I didn't even need to touch it. I just needed my brain to look at the biscuit tin and immediately think: mustard."

And it worked. Every time I glanced over at those biscuits, my brain fired the disgust signal and moved on. Not because I'm strong. Because mustard is revolting and now my brain had linked the two things together like some kind of very stupid Pavlov experiment.

That's when it hit me. What if mustard wasn't just for biscuits? What if mustard was the answer to everything?

The Mustard Way of Life

The idea is simple: take something you genuinely hate — your disgust trigger, whatever it is — and mentally (or literally) put it on every bad habit you're trying to break. For me, that thing is mustard. For you it might be something else. But the principle is the same.

Your brain can't sustain desire and disgust at the same time. So you hijack one with the other.

• The biscuit tin at work Take one biscuit. Cover it in mustard. Place it visibly on your desk. Watch your cravings evaporate.
• The cigarette Before you light up, open the mustard. Just smell it. Your brain will start making associations it really doesn't want.
• The late-night drink you're trying to cut down on Put a tiny bit of mustard in it. Or just have the jar next to the bottle. You'll be surprised how quickly the craving shifts.
• The chips with your "healthy" chicken salad You can still have them — just absolutely drown them in mustard. You'll eat about three and feel weirdly satisfied.
• The toxic people Okay, you can't literally put mustard on someone's forehead (legally). But the moment you feel yourself getting pulled into their orbit? Think: mustard. Picture it. On their forehead. Suddenly the urge to engage drops significantly.

The brilliant thing is this isn't about willpower. Willpower is exhausting. Willpower requires you to be a better person than you actually are at 4pm on a Wednesday when someone's brought Hobnobs in. Mustard requires nothing except a jar and the willingness to be a little bit unhinged about your own wellbeing.

Disgust is automatic. Disgust is fast. Disgust doesn't get tired.

"Willpower asks you to be strong. Mustard just asks you to be disgusted. And frankly, I find that much more achievable."

So that's the experiment. I'm running it. I'm reporting back. And if it works — and I genuinely think it might — then I'm calling it the Mustard Way of Life and I'm never looking back.

Try it. Pick your mustard. Put it on your bad habits. See what happens.

You can thank me later. Or blame me. Either way, at least you'll feel something.

Your new cognitive safe word.

When the craving hits. When the toxic person texts. When the biscuit tin is calling your name.

Mustard.

Vikki is the founder of howtofeelfuckingamazing.com — a blog about doing life slightly better, mostly through trial, error, and condiments.