I Didn't Eat for 3 Days—Here's What Happened to My Mind, Body, and Soul

By Coach Brandi Nik Kilbourne

Day 1: The Unexpected Breakdown at a Green Light

Day one started off surprisingly... fine. I woke up feeling like that girl. Hydrated. Focused. Ready to detox my life away with herbal tea and inner peace.

I got dressed, headed to work, and packed a gallon of water like it was my emotional support bottle. Every couple of hours, I brewed a different tea from my carefully planned fasting ritual—green tea in the morning, ginger at noon, a little detox blend by midafternoon. My body felt okay. My mind was clear. I was even proud of myself for turning down a warm muffin that someone had the audacity to reheat in the breakroom microwave.

By lunchtime, the temptation was real. People were out here living their best lives with soups, sandwiches, and sizzling leftovers, and there I was—sniffing herbal tea and pretending it tasted like sustenance. I kept telling myself, “It’s only day one. You’ve got this.”

I did... until I didn’t.

At around 4:00 PM, driving home from work, something cracked. I was sitting at a red light, music low, sipping water like a good fasting girl when suddenly—anxiety hit me like a truck.

Out of nowhere, my chest got tight. My breathing changed. My hands got clammy. The whole world felt like it was zooming in and out at the same time. I gripped the steering wheel, trying to ground myself, but my brain had other plans:

“What are we doing?”“Is this safe?”“Did we just break ourselves??”“What if we faint while driving and crash into a tree and never get to eat mango again?”

Parked in standstill traffic, I took deep breaths. Sipped water slowly. Sat in silence until the storm passed.

It wasn’t just hunger. It was everything I’d been holding in: the stress of work, the tension in my body, the pressure to "do this right." My body was detoxing, but so was my nervous system—and apparently, it had something to say.

By the time I got home, I felt like I’d just survived something much deeper than skipping lunch. I took a long bath, curled up with some chamomile tea, and gave myself full permission to just rest.

Takeaway from Day 1:Fasting isn’t just physical. It’s emotional. Spiritual. Psychological. You think you’re just skipping food—but you’re actually removing the buffers that usually numb your stress. And when that stuff surfaces? Whew. You’d better be ready to face it.

But I made it through. And weirdly... I went to bed grateful. Shaken, but grateful. Something was shifting—and I could feel it.

Day 2: The Calm After the Storm (and…No Poop)

After the chaos of Day 1—the cravings, the emotional detox, the full-on anxiety ambush at a red light—I braced myself for Day 2. I had read the blogs. Watched the YouTube videos. Scrolled through all the wellness guru TikToks.

Everyone said:

“Day 2 is the hardest.”“You’ll want to quit.”“Prepare to suffer.”

But here’s what actually happened:

I woke up feeling... amazing.Clear. Energized. Light.Like I had finally come up for air after weeks—maybe months—of low-level heaviness I hadn’t even noticed I was carrying.

My brain was quiet. My body was calm. I wasn’t hungry, not even a little. And for the first time in a long time, I felt present—like I was actually in my body, not just dragging it around like a weighted blanket with a to-do list.

I remember lying in bed thinking, “Is this what it feels like to not be inflamed?!” Because honestly, it felt euphoric.

But let’s keep it real:That calm didn’t stop me from daydreaming about food like it was my ex I wasn’t supposed to text. I still fantasized about breaking the fast—broth, avocado, mango, the crunch of a cucumber, the saltiness of a grilled salmon filet. I mentally curated an entire spa-like refeed menu. I even considered calling it my “reunion meal.”

Also worth noting: no bowel movement.Which, fine. I wasn’t eating. But still, it felt weird. I kept waiting for something to happen. Spoiler: it didn’t.

I spent most of the day moving gently—slow walks, a little light stretching, tea in hand. Everything felt slower and softer, but in a really good way. I wasn’t anxious. I wasn’t foggy. I wasn’t dragging.

Midday stats check-in:

• Weight: 169.4 lbs

• Fat: 29.4%

• Water: 37.6%

• Muscle: 28.1%

Small shifts, but powerful ones.

Day 2 Takeaway:

Everyone said Day 2 would be the hardest—but for me, it was a breath of fresh air. My body surprised me. My energy came back. And I realized something big: sometimes healing feels better than you thought it would.

Not every detox has to feel like punishment. Sometimes, it feels like coming home to yourself.

Day 3: Shrinking, Stillness, and the Slow Countdown to Broth

By Day 3, I was deep in the flow.

I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t even cranky.I was just… quiet. Still. Light.

It was like I had slipped into some alternate reality where food wasn’t a central part of my day, and I was totally okay with it. But even though I wasn’t hungry in the traditional sense, I thought about food all day.

Not in a desperate way—more like I was preparing for a long-awaited reunion. I could see my first meal. I could smell the broth. I imagined my spoon dipping slowly into that warm, salty liquid. I imagined how I would chew, how I would pause between bites. I didn’t want to rush it. I wanted to savor it like a spiritual ritual. Because after 72 hours, eating felt like something sacred.

But here’s the part I wasn’t prepared for:

I could feel my body shrinking.Not in a dramatic, “look at these results!” kind of way—but in a subtle, internal way. Like my organs were recalibrating. Like I was shedding excess—mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. My clothes fit differently. My face looked a little more defined in the mirror. Even my thoughts felt lighter.

And yet, I still felt strong. Present. In control.

Morning stats:

• Weight: 167.8 lbs

• Fat: 29.1%

• Water: 38%

• Muscle: 28.4%

  
  
  
  

  Evening stats (just before breaking the fast):

  
  

• Weight: 166.8 lbs

• Fat: 28.9%

• Water: 38.2%

• Muscle: 28.5%

At around 7 PM, I started preparing my “break-the-fast” meal like it was the most important dinner I’d ever make. I took my time. Warmed the broth slowly. Plated my veggies. Added a little protein. It wasn’t a feast. It wasn’t flashy.

But that first bite?

Transcendental.

I could feel the food enter my system gently, lovingly, with zero resistance. No bloating. No pain. No regret. Just gratitude. And a deep sense of peace in my body.

Day 3 Takeaway:

There’s something powerful about quieting the noise in your body long enough to actually feel it changing. I wasn’t starving. I wasn’t broken. I was aware. And when I finally fed myself, it wasn’t about hunger—it was about reverence.

Final Reflections: A New Ritual Begins

In just three days, I lost 6.4 pounds, dropped my body fat percentage by 1.2%, gained 0.8% muscle mass, and increased my water weight by 1.1%—and I didn’t do it with some crash diet or extreme workout plan. I did it by slowing down. By letting my body rest, recalibrate, and do what it was designed to do.

But the numbers? They’re just the bonus.The real transformation was deeper.

I faced anxiety. I faced stillness. I faced myself.And on the other side, I found peace, clarity, and an entirely new respect for my body.

This wasn’t about restriction—it was about renewal.

And now, I’m making this fast a part of my monthly routine. Not as punishment. Not to “shred” or “cleanse” for aesthetics. But as a way to honor my body with intentional rest. A way to reset, reflect, and reconnect every month.

I can’t wait to see what long-term benefits unfold from practicing this kind of deep self-care. Because honestly? If this is what’s possible in just 72 hours... I can only imagine what a year of consistency will look like.