Three months ago, I was eating toast for dinner twice a week. Not because I love toast, but because by 7pm I was too mentally exhausted to figure out what to cook, let alone actually cook it.

I work in a demanding job. By the time I get home, my decision-making capacity is shot. The paradox of choice hits hard when you’re staring into a fridge full of ingredients but can’t assemble them into a coherent meal plan.

Then a friend mentioned she does all her cooking on Sundays. I was skeptical. Meal prep always seemed like something organized people do, and I’ve never been that person. But I was also tired of the 7pm toast spiral, so I tried it.

Week One: The Learning Curve

My first attempt was chaos. I tried to make five different recipes simultaneously. My tiny kitchen couldn’t handle it. I burned rice while chopping vegetables for another dish. The whole process took four hours and I nearly gave up.

But then Monday came. I opened my fridge and there were actual meals ready to go. Lunch was already portioned. Dinner just needed reheating. I didn’t have to think about food even once that day.

That’s when I realized this wasn’t really about food. It was about decision fatigue.

The Mental Load Nobody Talks About

Every food decision takes cognitive energy. What should I eat? Do I have ingredients? What’s the recipe? How long will it take? Is this nutritious enough? By the time you’ve answered those questions after an exhausting day, ordering takeout sounds infinitely easier.

Research on decision fatigue shows that the quality of our decisions deteriorates throughout the day. It’s why we make poor food choices at night even when we have good intentions in the morning.

Meal prepping removes those evening decisions entirely. You’re not deciding what to eat. You’re just eating what Sunday-you already decided. And Sunday-you had way more mental energy to make good choices.

What Actually Works

After three months of trial and error, here’s my system:

I don’t meal prep five different elaborate recipes. That’s a recipe for burnout. I make two things: a grain bowl situation and a soup or stew. That’s it. Add some fruit and pre-cut vegetables for snacks and I’m set.

I use the same flavor profiles I already like. I’m not trying to eat like a wellness influencer. I’m making food I actually want to eat. This week it’s a Mexican-inspired rice bowl and Thai curry. Last week was Mediterranean grain salad and lentil soup.

I accept that Wednesday or Thursday I might want something different. That’s fine. Having four meals ready is still better than zero meals ready.

The Unexpected Mental Health Benefits

The decision fatigue relief was immediate and obvious. But other benefits surprised me.

I eat more vegetables now. Not because I’m trying harder, but because when I’m cooking in bulk on a Sunday, adding vegetables is easy. Weeknight-me wasn’t going to chop bell peppers and roast broccoli. Sunday-me already did it.

My blood sugar is more stable. I used to skip lunch half the time because getting food seemed too complicated. Now I actually eat regular meals. Turns out that helps with mood regulation. Who knew?

The planning itself is meditative. There’s something calming about chopping vegetables for an hour while listening to a podcast. It’s the only time all week I’m doing something physical that doesn’t require much mental energy.

When It Doesn’t Work

I’m not going to pretend this solves everything. Some weeks I don’t do it. Sometimes I’m traveling or Sunday gets away from me. That’s life.

Also, if you have sensory issues with reheated food, this might not be your solution. Some textures genuinely don’t hold up well. Rice gets dry. Crispy things get soggy.

And if cooking itself is triggering or overwhelming for you, adding a four-hour Sunday cooking session to your life might create more stress than it relieves. That’s valid too.

The Real Shift

What changed for me wasn’t just having prepared food. It was the realization that taking care of future-me is an act of self-care.

Sunday-me is doing something kind for Monday-me, Tuesday-me, all the weekday versions of me who are tired and depleted. It’s a form of self-compassion I didn’t know I needed.

There’s something powerful about opening your fridge after a terrible day and finding food that someone who cares about you already prepared. Even if that someone is past-you.

I still eat toast for dinner sometimes. But now it’s a choice, not a surrender.

If you’re struggling with the mental load of feeding yourself, you don’t need to become a meal prep perfectionist. You just need to find one small way to make future-you’s life a little easier. For me, that’s Sunday cooking. For you, it might be something else entirely.

But I’d encourage you to try it once. Just once. Make a big batch of something simple you actually like eating. See how it feels to have one less decision to make on Monday. See if taking care of future-you changes anything about how you move through your week.

It did for me.