A friend of mine was quite upset. He believed that immigrants were simply being given free healthcare in Portugal.

I can understand why people who wait a long time for treatment, or help fund healthcare in Portugal, want to know how the costs are shared. I will soon need hospital care here myself, so this has become personal for me too. Who pays for my care? What do I contribute? And how does it work for other immigrants living here?

That is why I looked into the rules. Immigrants do not all have the same entitlements, conditions or financial arrangements.

How Portugal’s public healthcare is funded

Portugal’s national health service, the Serviço Nacional de Saúde (SNS), is mainly funded through the state budget.

A patient may receive treatment without being charged, but that care still has to be paid for. The money generally comes from public funds, rather than the individual health insurance premiums we are familiar with in the Netherlands.

When do patients pay?

Covered SNS consultations, tests and hospital treatment generally have no patient charge. This applies to Portuguese patients and eligible foreign residents alike. Charges remain for certain emergency visits without an SNS referral, unless the patient is exempt or is admitted to hospital.

People legally living in Portugal

Foreign nationals legally living in Portugal can qualify for SNS coverage. For adults, the required registration information includes identification, a NIF, a Portuguese address and valid proof of legal residence. Having a número de utente — an SNS patient number — alone is not enough.

International agreements can also determine which country is financially responsible.

Immigrants who pay Portuguese taxes contribute to public services. However, access to public healthcare is not limited to people who pay a separate monthly health insurance premium.

Dutch residents: when the Netherlands pays

Being Dutch does not automatically determine who pays for your healthcare. Someone living and working in Portugal may fall under the Portuguese system.

An S1 form is used when you live in one European country but another country is responsible for your healthcare. It can apply to workers, pensioners and certain family members.

In my own case, I already used an S1 form to register in Portugal before retiring, when I was insured through my work.

While working

If you live in Portugal but remain subject to the Dutch social security system because of your work, your Dutch health insurer can issue an S1 form. You pay the Dutch health insurance premium, and income-related contributions are handled according to your employment situation. The form allows you to register for public healthcare in Portugal.

Which country’s system applies depends on your working situation. Having a Dutch employer or company alone does not settle this.

With a pension or certain benefits

If you receive a qualifying Dutch statutory pension or benefit and the Netherlands is responsible for your healthcare, the CAK arranges your S1 form. You pay a treaty healthcare contribution to the CAK, often deducted from your pension or benefit. Its amount depends on factors including your income, insured family members and the adjustment used for your country of residence.

In both Dutch routes, Portugal provides care under Portuguese rules, while the Netherlands remains financially responsible under European reimbursement arrangements. Payments between the countries are calculated separately from your individual premium or CAK contribution.

What does Portugal receive?

There are official European reimbursement arrangements. For some groups, payments are based on average healthcare costs in Portugal.

For example, Official Journal publication C/2026/4716, dated 2 September 2026, includes Portugal’s 2023 figures in table II for pensioners and their family members. For the group aged 65 or over, the annual calculation basis is €2,351.04. The column applying a 20% reduction gives €156.74 per month.

That is a calculation for a particular age group and year. It is not an individual treatment budget or a general rate for immigrants’ healthcare in 2026.

American residents: who pays for their care?

An American with a valid Portuguese residence permit and the required SNS registration can also qualify for public healthcare. A visa alone is not enough.

The social security agreement between the United States and Portugal does not cover health insurance or Medicare benefits. It does not provide an equivalent arrangement for reimbursing ordinary SNS care.

Where the SNS is responsible for covering that care, it is funded through Portugal’s public system. An American resident may also contribute through Portuguese taxes; the absence of a payment from their home country does not tell us their total contribution.

What about private health insurance?

A person with private health insurance pays premiums to an insurer. For covered treatment, the insurer pays according to the policy, either directly or by reimbursing the patient. The patient may also have to pay part of the bill.

A private policy can exist alongside SNS coverage. Its premiums go to the insurer, rather than into the SNS as a separate public healthcare contribution.

So, when an American uses a private clinic or hospital, the costs may be met by their insurer and their own payments. It depends on the policy and the treatment.

Financial requirements for a residence visa

Americans applying through the D7 route, for example on the basis of a pension or qualifying passive income, must show that they can support themselves.

The US application checklist requires evidence of resources covering at least twelve months. For one adult, it expresses this as savings equivalent to twelve minimum monthly wages. Using the 2026 mainland reference of €920 per month, that is €11,040 for twelve months. Each additional adult adds 50% of the base amount, and each child under eighteen adds 30%.

These figures use the mainland minimum wage; the Azores and Madeira have higher regional minimum wages.

Applicants must also document their qualifying pension or other passive income and its availability in Portugal through a Portuguese bank account. The checklist requires accommodation for at least twelve months and travel insurance with medical cover.

Those savings remain the applicant’s money. They are a financial requirement for the residence route, not a payment into Portugal’s public healthcare system.

People without a valid residence permit

People without a valid residence permit can receive care, but costs may fall to the patient or another responsible payer.

A Junta de Freguesia declaration confirming more than ninety days’ residence enables SNS-funded urgent and life-saving care. It must be presented at each visit.

Even without that declaration, separate protections cover maternal and reproductive care, children’s healthcare and national-programme vaccinations. They also apply in family reunification where a household member’s social security contributions are documented, and in cases of social exclusion or financial hardship certified by Segurança Social. Access follows the relevant rules for the general population.

Asylum seekers and refugees

Asylum seekers and refugees, their spouses or equivalent partners, and direct descendants are exempt from SNS patient charges (taxas moderadoras). Valid proof of an asylum application or provisional residence permit must be presented when using health services to establish the exemption.

The exemption also covers emergency visits without an SNS referral, where other patients may still face a charge.

Are the arrangements fair?

Receiving covered SNS treatment without a charge at the point of care is part of the system for Portuguese patients and eligible immigrants alike.

My friend’s concern raises an important question: can Portugal adequately fund and organise healthcare for its residents?

Access to the same public services can come with different financial obligations. It is reasonable to ask how those differences work.

A growing population needs sufficient healthcare capacity. Immigrants can also contribute as employees, business owners, taxpayers and healthcare professionals. To assess the balance, we need evidence about both costs and contributions. Nationality alone cannot give us the answer.

I would welcome more transparency. How much does Portugal receive from foreign healthcare systems? What costs does that cover? And does healthcare capacity reflect the number of residents, their ages and their needs?

I live here as an immigrant myself. Especially with hospital care coming up, I want to understand how the arrangements work and what I contribute. Good healthcare needs solidarity and sustainable funding. Anyone concerned about how the costs are shared deserves an answer that takes the whole picture into account.

---

Rules and sources checked on 13 October 2026.

Sources

• Portuguese SNS statute: funding and financial responsibility.
• Portuguese government: healthcare for migrants and registration requirements.
• ERS: foreign nationals’ access to SNS care.
• ERS: patient charges and exemptions.
• CAK: why the treaty scheme applies and how contributions are calculated.
• CAK: S1 registration for people working in the Netherlands and living abroad.
• European Union: healthcare coverage when living abroad, including S1 arrangements.
• EU Official Journal, C/2026/4716, 2 September 2026: 2023 reimbursement figures, including table II for pensioners.
• US Social Security Administration: scope of the agreement with Portugal.
• ASF: private health insurance, payments and policy conditions.
• Portaria 1563/2007: means of subsistence.
• Decreto-Lei 139/2025: mainland Portugal’s minimum wage for 2026.
• Azores government: regional minimum wage and Madeira: Decreto Legislativo Regional 1/2026/M.
• VFS Global: D7 checklist for applications from the United States, dated 6 November 2025.

Rob (He’s is an exceptionally well-read and knowledgeable man) told me the pope once promised Portugal half the world, provided the Portuguese built enough churches.

Half the world? In exchange for churches?

Living in Portugal, I have to admit they seem to have taken the building part seriously. Even a village without a bakery usually has a church. Sometimes two, just in case the first one is busy. But I wanted to know whether a pope had ever sat down with a map and a church-building target.

The answer is more interesting than the story.

The pope did have a say

In the fifteenth century, Portuguese ships were sailing farther and farther down the African coast. Their crews were looking for trade routes and wealth. The king was keen to make sure nobody else got there first. A papal blessing was useful.

In 1455, Pope Nicholas V issued a document called Romanus Pontifex. It backed Portuguese claims along the African coast and granted extensive trading privileges. Spreading Christianity was presented as part of the enterprise.

Churches appeared in the document too. The Portuguese king was allowed to found churches and monasteries in territories under his control and to send clergy there. Allowed is the important word. The text sets no target of churches to be built before Portugal could claim a particular piece of land. There was no price list: ten chapels for an island, fifty for a coastline.

Religion sailed aboard those ships alongside trade, politics and weapons. The consequences were brutal. Papal support also helped justify the conquest and enslavement of non-Christian people. That part of the story is easy to lose behind an attractive façade covered in azulejos.

A line through the ocean

So where does “half the world” come from? For that, we need to jump forward almost forty years.

After Columbus’s voyage, Portugal and the Spanish rulers disputed their claims across the Atlantic. Pope Alexander VI had a hand in the first proposed boundary. But the division we remember was negotiated by the two kingdoms themselves in the Treaty of Tordesillas, signed in 1494.

They drew an imaginary line from north to south, 370 leagues west of the Cape Verde islands. A league was an old measure of distance. Claims on one side went to Castile; claims on the other went to Portugal. Imagine taking a ruler to a map and saying, “This bit is mine.”

The people already living on those lands were, of course, not invited to the table.

The line put the eastern part of present-day Brazil in the Portuguese sphere. It helps explain why Portuguese became the language of Brazil while Spanish became dominant across much of the surrounding region. That is the very short version. Brazil’s history was far messier than a straight line on a map.

And all those churches?

The Portuguese Crown later played a major role in organizing the Catholic Church overseas. Monarchs supported priests and missions and financed church building. This arrangement became known as the Padroado Português, or Portuguese royal patronage.

Now we have all the ingredients of Rob’s story: papal privileges, a kingdom spreading the faith, churches being built, and a later treaty dividing vast overseas territories between Portugal and Spain. Leave those ingredients to simmer for five centuries and out comes: “The pope gave Portugal half the world in return for enough churches.”

It is a terrific dinner-table story. As history, it goes a little too far.

The churches you see across Portugal today were not all built as part of one papal bargain either. Over many centuries, kings, religious orders, local brotherhoods and wealthy families paid for them. Wealth connected to colonial trade also found its way into the decoration of religious buildings.

Since Rob told me his version, I look at a Portuguese church differently. First I see the stonework, the tiles and the gilded altar. Then I think of that extraordinary time when two monarchies drew a line through an ocean and a pope believed he had a say in what lay beyond it.

I have stopped counting the churches, though. Nobody has found a receipt stating how many were needed for half the world.

---

Sources

• Romanus Pontifex (1455), English translation of the papal bull. The document includes trading privileges and permission to found churches and monasteries.
• UNESCO, Treaty of Tordesillas (1494). On the negotiations, dividing line and Brazil.
• Library of Congress, European claims to Brazil.

Ik ben vrij goed in dingen kwijtraken. Mijn sleutels. Mijn telefoon terwijl ik ermee aan het bellen ben. Af en toe een zonnebril.

Maar 150.000 liter water?

Dat leek me zelfs voor mij wat ambitieus.

Toch was dat ongeveer het verschil toen ik onlangs naar mijn watermeter keek. Eind juli stond hij rond de 339 kubieke meter. Half september zag ik ineens 491 staan.

Ik heb een tuin in Noord-Portugal. Met planten. Veel planten inmiddels. En omdat een Portugese zomer zonder water voor de gemiddelde hortensia ongeveer hetzelfde doet als drie weken Sahara, ligt er natuurlijk een irrigatiesysteem.

Dus ja, ik verwacht meer water te gebruiken dan iemand met drie geraniums op een Amsterdams balkon.

Maar dit was wel héél enthousiast.

Het begon met zes kiwi’s

Het hele verhaal begon maanden geleden met zes kiwi’s langs de carport.

De tuinman legde leidingen, er kwamen slangen onder het worteldoek, daar gingen grote witte kiezels overheen en ik kreeg instructies over water geven.

Ik zag slangen liggen. Ik zag kraantjes. Ik zag water.

Prima.

Tot vijf van de zes kiwi’s doodgingen.

Dat vond ik op zichzelf al een prestatie, want later bleek dat er ondertussen juist enorme hoeveelheden water door de meter gingen.

We hebben lekkages gehad, leidingen zijn gerepareerd, een andere tuinman heeft gegraven en op enig moment wist eigenlijk niemand meer precies welk slangetje waarheen liep.

Inclusief ikzelf.

Sterker nog: toen iemand mij deze week vroeg of ik de kraan van de irrigatie even kon dichtzetten, realiseerde ik me dat ik niet eens wist welke kraan dat was.

Er zijn momenten waarop integreren in Portugal minder over pastéis de nata gaat en meer over met drie Portugese mannen naar een verzameling zwarte plastic slangen kijken.

Toen ben ik foto’s gaan maken

Op 24 juli stond de watermeter rond de 339 m³.

Op 19 september: 491 m³.

Dat is een verschil van ongeveer 152.000 liter.

Mijn normale verbruik is volgens mijn waterrekening ongeveer 12 m³ per maand. Zelfs met een tuin erbij hoef je geen rekenwonder te zijn om te bedenken dat hier iets niet klopt.

Dus ben ik de meter gaan fotograferen.

Niet één keer, maar steeds opnieuw. Met het tijdstip erbij.

En daar leerde ik meteen iets van.

Op mijn Portugese watermeter zijn de zwarte cijfers de kubieke meters. De rode cijfers zijn de decimalen. Een verschil van 0,001 m³ is dus één liter.

Dat lijkt simpel.

Tot je met je telefoon boven zo’n meter hangt en een rood cijfer precies halverwege twee standen staat. We hebben hier zelfs een keer gedacht dat mijn watermeter achteruitliep.

Dat zou overigens een uitstekende oplossing voor mijn probleem zijn geweest.

Helaas.

122 liter in één nacht

Zaterdagmiddag om 15.26 uur stond de meter op:

491,310 m³

Zondagochtend om 08.14 uur:

491,432 m³

In 16 uur en 48 minuten was er dus 122 liter water gebruikt.

Gemiddeld 7,3 liter per uur.

Nu moet je daar niet meteen van maken dat ik een lek van precies 7,3 liter per uur heb. Ik heb in die tijd gewoon thuis gewoond. Toilet gebruikt. Handen gewassen. Water gepakt.

Maar ’s nachts doe ik zelfs in Portugal vrij weinig met 122 liter water.

Dus nu volgt de echte test: meter fotograferen, alles uit, een paar uur nergens aankomen en daarna opnieuw kijken.

Loopt hij dan nog steeds door, dan weet je dat het water ergens heen gaat waar jij het niet naartoe hebt gestuurd.

Voor of na de meter?

Daar kwam vervolgens een interessante Portugese discussie bij.

Het waterbedrijf vertelde dat zij alleen verantwoordelijk zijn voor lekkages vóór de meter.

Dat klinkt logisch.

Alleen kan een lek vóór de meter onmogelijk verklaren waarom míjn meter 152 kubieke meter verder staat. Water dat mijn meter registreert, is er immers doorheen gegaan.

De vraag is dus vooral: waar gaat het ná de meter naartoe?

In het Portugees heet je particuliere installatie de rede predial. En juist dat begrip is handig om te kennen als je ooit hetzelfde probleem krijgt.

Want verantwoordelijkheid voor het repareren van een lek en de manier waarop een uitzonderlijk hoge waterrekening wordt behandeld, zijn twee verschillende zaken.

De Portugese toezichthouder ERSAR heeft regels voor aantoonbare breuken in de particuliere installatie — rotura na rede predial. Bij een bewezen lekkage kan de facturering anders worden behandeld en kunnen ook onderdelen van de rekening die samenhangen met riool en afval worden gecorrigeerd als dat water aantoonbaar niet in het riool terechtkwam.

Je hoeft dus niet automatisch te denken: mijn leiding, mijn probleem, ik betaal alles en klaar.

Maar je moet het wel kunnen aantonen.

Daarom fotografeer ik tegenwoordig mijn watermeter alsof het mijn kleinkind is

Datum erbij. Tijd erbij. Stand goed zichtbaar.

En als de loodgieter maandag het lek vindt, wil ik ook graag op zijn factuur zien staan:

“Fuga/rotura na rede predial.”

Oftewel: lekkage/breuk in de particuliere waterinstallatie.

Foto van het lek erbij. Foto na de reparatie. Oude waterrekeningen bewaren.

Want tegen de tijd dat er een rekening op de mat valt voor een zwembad vol water dat je nooit hebt gezien, is “volgens mij lekte er ergens iets” een stuk minder overtuigend.

Twee Portugese zinnen die ik inmiddels wél uit mijn hoofd ken

Voor wie hier ook een huis heeft:

Tenho uma fuga de água depois do contador.

Ik heb een waterlek na de meter.

En bij de gemeente:

Quero pedir a correção da fatura devido a uma rotura comprovada na rede predial.

Ik wil correctie van de rekening aanvragen vanwege een aantoonbare breuk in de particuliere waterinstallatie.

Mijn gemeente, Cabeceiras de Basto, heeft daar zelfs een procedure voor het betwisten van een waterfactuur voor.

En waar zijn die 150.000 liter nu?

Dat weet ik dus nog niet.

Een deel is normaal huishoudelijk gebruik geweest. Een deel ging uiteraard naar de tuin. Mogelijk heb ik de irrigatie een tijd open laten staan zonder precies te beseffen wat er gebeurde. En we weten dat er eerder lekkages zijn geweest.

Maar ergens in dat verhaal zit nog een hoeveelheid water waar ik geen goede verklaring voor heb.

Maandag komt de loodgieter terug.

Tot die tijd kijk ik vaker naar mijn watermeter dan naar Netflix.

Wordt vervolgd.

Every now and then, a song suddenly means something completely different from what it meant when you first heard it.

This morning I thought of Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof:

“If I were a rich man…”

As a child, or even as a younger adult, you hear that and think it is about money.

A bigger house.
More comfort.
People helping you.
Not having to work quite so hard.

But Tevye’s dream was actually much more interesting than that.

He dreamed of having time.

Time to think.
Time to read.
Time to talk about the things that interested him.
Time to live instead of spending every waking hour simply keeping life going.

And then I suddenly realised something rather funny.

I am more or less there.

I am retired now.

I still work, but only a few half-days a week. And I work because I still enjoy what I do, not because every hour of my week has to be sold.

I have almost enough help around the house to stop the house itself from becoming a full-time occupation.

And perhaps the nicest surprise of all is that people seem to value my professional advice more now than they did when I was working much harder.

Maybe experience has something to do with that.

After decades of working with people, studying, making mistakes, changing my mind, learning more and watching what actually works, you become less interested in proving how much you know.

You become much more interested in seeing what matters.

And perhaps people notice that.

There is something rather luxurious about being able to sit with a problem, think about it properly and say what you really think — without having twelve more things waiting behind it.

So no, I am not Tevye’s millionaire.

But if being rich means having enough, having time, being able to choose how much you work, having help with the things you no longer want to spend your days doing, and still being useful to other people…

then perhaps I should stop singing:

“If I were a rich man…”

and start admitting:

“Actually, Tevye… I think I got there.” 😉

Um coração partido também mexe com o cérebro

Sabes racionalmente que acabou.

Talvez até saibas que aquela relação já não te fazia bem.

E, mesmo assim, continuas a pensar naquela pessoa. Pegas no telemóvel sem razão. Dormes pior. Ficas mais ansioso/a. Ou aparece uma vontade enorme de chocolate, vinho ou qualquer coisa que dê um alívio rápido.

Depois alguém diz:

“Tens de deixar ir.”

Se fosse assim tão simples, ninguém sofria durante semanas ou meses depois de uma separação.

Porque o desgosto amoroso não acontece apenas na tua cabeça.

O corpo e o sistema nervoso também reagem.

o cérebro perde uma fonte de segurança

Quando temos uma ligação forte com alguém, o cérebro associa essa pessoa a segurança, recompensa e familiaridade.

A voz.

As mensagens.

Um abraço.

As rotinas.

A sensação de saber que aquela pessoa está lá.

O sistema opioide natural do cérebro — onde entram também as endorfinas — participa na ligação social, na sensação de conforto e na regulação da dor.

Quando uma relação termina de repente, essa fonte de segurança desaparece.

Mas o cérebro ainda a procura.

É por isso que uma separação pode, por vezes, parecer quase uma espécie de abstinência.

A parte racional sabe que acabou.

A biologia ainda não percebeu isso completamente.

porque é que algumas pessoas sofrem mais do que outras?

Nem todos reagimos da mesma forma à rejeição ou à perda.

A nossa resposta ao stress é influenciada pela história de vida, pelas experiências anteriores e até por mecanismos epigenéticos.

A epigenética estuda, entre outras coisas, a forma como determinadas experiências podem influenciar a expressão dos nossos genes.

Um dos sistemas interessantes neste contexto envolve o gene POMC, que participa na produção de substâncias como a beta-endorfina.

Isto não significa que exista um “gene do abandono”.

Mas mostra uma coisa importante:

as experiências anteriores podem influenciar a forma como o sistema nervoso reage mais tarde à proximidade, ao stress e à perda.

Por isso, para algumas pessoas, uma rejeição não é apenas triste.

É profundamente desorganizadora.

anandamida: aprender que já não há perigo

Outro sistema fascinante é o sistema endocanabinoide.

Uma das suas moléculas é a anandamida.

A anandamida participa na regulação do stress e num processo chamado fear extinction — a diminuição progressiva de uma resposta de medo aprendida.

Imagina:

Recebias uma mensagem todas as manhãs.

A relação termina.

No dia seguinte acordas e procuras automaticamente o telemóvel.

E sentes logo aquele aperto.

O mesmo pode acontecer com uma música, um restaurante, um cheiro ou uma fotografia.

A memória não precisa de desaparecer.

O cérebro precisa de aprender uma coisa nova:

“Eu lembro-me disto, mas neste momento estou em segurança.”

Esse processo leva tempo.

Mas pode ser apoiado.

alimentação e fitoterapia podem ajudar?

Não acredito que se possa tratar um coração partido apenas com suplementos.

Mas acredito que podemos criar melhores condições biológicas para o cérebro recuperar.

Uma substância interessante é o kaempferol, um flavonoide presente, por exemplo, nos brócolos, na couve e nas alcaparras.

Em investigação laboratorial, o kaempferol consegue inibir a enzima FAAH, que degrada a anandamida.

Isto torna-o interessante do ponto de vista neurobiológico.

Mas convém manter os pés no chão:

não significa que tomar kaempferol faça desaparecer o sofrimento emocional.

É uma peça de um puzzle muito maior.

Também a apigenina, presente por exemplo na salsa, no aipo e na camomila, está a ser estudada pelos seus efeitos sobre sistemas relacionados com o GABA, stress e neuroplasticidade.

Mais uma vez: apoio, não milagre.

e uma coisa muito simples: vai para a natureza

Uma das melhores coisas que podes fazer quando o cérebro está sobrecarregado é extremamente simples.

Sai de casa.

Caminha.

De preferência num ambiente verde.

Estudos sobre exposição à natureza e forest bathing mostram efeitos positivos no stress, ansiedade e cortisol.

E há ainda outro benefício:

quando estás a caminhar, não estás sentado/a a verificar pela décima vez se a outra pessoa está online.

Às vezes, isso já é uma intervenção importante.

cuidado com os atalhos

Quando sentimos vazio, o cérebro procura recompensa rápida.

Então aparecem:

• açúcar
• chocolate
• álcool
• comida altamente processada
• redes sociais
• aplicações de encontros
• mensagens que sabemos que não devíamos enviar

Durante alguns minutos, sentimos alívio.

Mas se todas as emoções difíceis forem seguidas por uma recompensa rápida, o cérebro aprende:

“Não consigo suportar este sentimento sem fugir dele.”

E é precisamente o contrário que queremos ensinar.

Quero que o sistema nervoso aprenda:

“Consigo sentir isto e continuo em segurança.”

o que faria primeiro?

Eu começaria pelo básico.

Boa alimentação.

Proteína suficiente.

Refeições regulares.

Sono.

Movimento.

Luz natural.

Natureza.

Menos álcool e menos açúcar como anestesia emocional.

E algum tempo longe das coisas que reativam constantemente a ferida.

Parece simples.

Mas biologicamente faz muita diferença.

o que tem isto a ver com o Nederland Slank?

Muito.

No Nederland Slank não olhamos apenas para o peso.

Eu quero perceber porque é que o corpo faz aquilo que faz.

Stress, sono, hormonas, insulina, alimentação e sistema nervoso estão ligados.

Por isso, não começamos simplesmente com:

“Come menos.”

Olhamos para o metabolismo, análises sanguíneas, alimentação e, quando faz sentido, também para os mecanismos neurobiológicos que influenciam o comportamento alimentar.

Porque às vezes o problema não é falta de força de vontade.

É um organismo que ainda está em modo de sobrevivência.

Queres perceber melhor o que o teu corpo precisa para voltar ao equilíbrio? Marca uma consulta no Nederland Slank e analisamos o que está por trás dos teus sintomas, do teu metabolismo e do teu comportamento alimentar.

Je weet rationeel dat het voorbij is.

Je weet misschien zelfs dat die relatie helemaal niet goed voor je was.

En tóch kijk je op je telefoon. Tóch denk je steeds aan die ene persoon. Je slaapt slechter, hebt minder rust in je lijf en krijgt ineens trek in chocola, wijn of alles wat maar even een prettig gevoel geeft.

Dan hoor je vaak: je moet het gewoon loslaten.

Daar heb ik eerlijk gezegd niet zoveel mee.

Want als loslaten alleen een kwestie van besluiten was, zou niemand weken of maanden wakker liggen van een verbroken relatie.

Liefdesverdriet zit namelijk niet alleen in je gedachten. Je hele zenuwstelsel doet mee.

waarom een relatiebreuk lichamelijk pijn kan doen

We maken vaak een kunstmatig onderscheid tussen lichamelijke en emotionele pijn.

Je snijdt in je vinger: lichamelijk.

Iemand van wie je houdt wijst je af: emotioneel.

Maar je hersenen maken dat onderscheid lang niet zo netjes.

Bij sociale afwijzing worden hersensystemen actief die ook betrokken zijn bij pijn, stress en beloning. Daarnaast spelen je eigen opioïden — waaronder endorfinen — een rol bij verbinding, sociale veiligheid en het dempen van pijn.

En daar wordt het interessant.

Wanneer iemand langere tijd belangrijk voor je is, gaat die persoon onderdeel uitmaken van de manier waarop jouw zenuwstelsel zich reguleert.

Een stem.

Een berichtje.

Een arm om je heen.

Samen eten.

Weten dat iemand er vanavond weer is.

Je brein koppelt dat allemaal aan vertrouwdheid en veiligheid.

En dan stopt het.

Van de ene op de andere dag is die bron van vertrouwdheid verdwenen, terwijl je brein hem nog wel verwacht.

Dat is een van de redenen waarom liefdesverdriet soms bijna op ontwenningsverschijnselen lijkt.

Je verstand weet dat de relatie voorbij is.

Je biologie zoekt nog steeds naar wat er gisteren wel was.

waarom de één sneller loslaat dan de ander

Dan krijg ik meteen een andere interessante vraag:

Waarom is de ene persoon drie weken verdrietig, terwijl iemand anders maandenlang volledig ontregeld raakt?

Dat heeft niet alleen met karakter te maken.

Onze reactie op verlies wordt mede gevormd door eerdere ervaringen, stressregulatie en waarschijnlijk ook door epigenetische processen.

Epigenetica gaat niet over het veranderen van je DNA zelf, maar over de vraag welke genen harder of zachter worden afgelezen.

Een interessant voorbeeld is het POMC-gen.

Uit POMC worden verschillende stoffen gevormd, waaronder bèta-endorfine. Onderzoek laat zien dat vroege stress en jeugdervaringen samen kunnen gaan met veranderingen in de regulatie van POMC en andere systemen die betrokken zijn bij stress.

Dat betekent niet dat er zoiets bestaat als één verlatingsangst-gen.

Zo simpel werkt het niet.

Maar het laat wel iets belangrijks zien:

wat je hebt meegemaakt kan invloed hebben op de manier waarop je zenuwstelsel later op verlies en verbinding reageert.

En dat verklaart ook waarom zeggen “stel je niet zo aan” ongeveer het minst behulpzame advies is dat je iemand kunt geven.

soms voelt juist nabijheid onveilig

Er gebeurt nog iets vreemds.

Sommige mensen verlangen enorm naar verbinding, maar raken juist onrustig zodra iemand echt dichtbij komt.

Dan ontstaat een soort jojo-effect.

Eerst veel aantrekkingskracht.

Dan verbinding.

Dan paniek.

Afstand nemen.

Iemand weer missen.

Toch teruggaan.

En vervolgens begint hetzelfde opnieuw.

Binnen de neurobiologie en integratieve epigenetica kun je dat bekijken als een zenuwstelsel dat nabijheid niet volledig met veiligheid heeft leren verbinden.

Je wilt de ander dichtbij.

Maar ergens in je systeem gaat tegelijkertijd een alarm af.

Dat vind ik een veel interessantere verklaring dan meteen zeggen dat iemand bindingsangst heeft en het daarbij laten.

Want als je begrijpt wat er biologisch gebeurt, kun je ook kijken hoe je dat systeem beter kunt ondersteunen.

anandamide: leren dat het gevaar voorbij is

Een tweede systeem waar ik bijzonder in geïnteresseerd ben, is het endocannabinoïde systeem.

Een van de stoffen daarin heet anandamide.

Anandamide speelt onder andere een rol bij stressregulatie en het afzwakken van aangeleerde angstreacties.

Dat laatste is belangrijk.

Stel dat je iedere ochtend een bericht van iemand kreeg.

De relatie stopt.

Je wordt wakker.

Je pakt automatisch je telefoon.

En nog voordat je bewust hebt nagedacht, voel je die steek.

Dat is een aangeleerde reactie.

Hetzelfde kan gebeuren bij:

• een liedje
• een restaurant
• een geur
• een bepaalde straat
• een foto
• een melding op je telefoon

Je hoeft die herinneringen niet uit je hoofd te wissen.

Je hersenen moeten iets anders leren:

ik herinner me dit, maar er is op dit moment geen gevaar.

In de neurowetenschappen noemen we dat fear extinction: de oude herinnering verdwijnt niet, maar de alarmreactie die eraan gekoppeld is wordt steeds zwakker.

En precies daarin speelt het endocannabinoïde systeem een interessante rol.

kan voeding daarbij helpen?

Hier wordt het voor mij praktisch.

Want verdriet hoef je niet weg te slikken met supplementen.

En ik geloof ook niet dat je een verbroken relatie kunt behandelen met één potje pillen.

Maar je kunt je zenuwstelsel wél betere voorwaarden geven om te herstellen.

kaempferol

Een interessante plantaardige stof is kaempferol.

Kaempferol zit bijvoorbeeld in broccoli, boerenkool, kappertjes en sommige andere groenten en kruiden.

In laboratoriumonderzoek blijkt kaempferol het enzym FAAH te kunnen remmen.

FAAH breekt anandamide af.

Minder snelle afbraak van anandamide is neurobiologisch interessant omdat sterkere anandamidesignalering betrokken is bij stressregulatie en het uitdoven van angstreacties.

Maar hier wil ik wel precies blijven.

We kunnen op basis van dat onderzoek niet zeggen:

neem kaempferol en je bent over je ex heen.

Zo werkt wetenschap niet.

Ik zie het liever als een van de voedingsstoffen waarmee we mogelijk de biologische omstandigheden ondersteunen waarbinnen herstel kan plaatsvinden.

apigenine

Ook apigenine vind ik interessant.

Het komt onder andere voor in peterselie, selderij en kamille.

Apigenine wordt onderzocht vanwege effecten op onder meer GABA, stressregulatie, neuro-inflammatie en neuroplasticiteit.

GABA is een belangrijke remmende neurotransmitter. Simpel gezegd: het helpt je hersenen om niet voortdurend op vol vermogen te blijven vuren.

En dat is precies wat iemand met veel piekeren soms nodig heeft.

Niet nóg meer analyseren.

Maar een zenuwstelsel dat af en toe weer gewoon uit de alarmstand komt.

en dan iets heel ingewikkelds: ga naar buiten

Ik kan natuurlijk een ingewikkeld verhaal schrijven over receptoren, enzymen en neurotransmitters.

Maar soms is een van de beste interventies verrassend simpel.

Loop het bos in.

Boswandelingen en zogenoemd forest bathing worden in onderzoek in verband gebracht met minder ervaren stress, minder angst en tijdelijke dalingen van cortisol.

Bomen produceren bovendien vluchtige stoffen die phytoncides worden genoemd. Er wordt onderzocht of deze mede bijdragen aan de effecten die verblijf in een bos op ons lichaam heeft.

Of een boswandeling letterlijk je amygdala repareert?

Dat zou ik niet beweren.

Maar ik durf wel te zeggen dat een uur tussen de bomen voor een overprikkeld brein meestal een slimmer experiment is dan een uur naar WhatsApp kijken of iemand al online is.

pas op voor de snelle dopamine-oplossingen

Hier gaat het na liefdesverdriet vaak mis.

Je voelt leegte.

En je brein wil die leegte zo snel mogelijk oplossen.

Dus krijg je ineens enorme behoefte aan:

• suiker
• chocola
• alcohol
• junkfood
• eindeloos scrollen
• datingapps
• steeds opnieuw foto’s bekijken
• tóch nog één bericht sturen

Dat heeft een logica.

Je brein zoekt een snelle verandering in hoe je je voelt.

Alleen train je jezelf daarmee ook iets aan.

Elke keer als ik deze emotie voel, moet ik eraan ontsnappen.

En dat helpt uiteindelijk niet bij loslaten.

Juist het tegenovergestelde is nodig.

Je zenuwstelsel moet opnieuw ervaren:

ik kan dit gevoel hebben zonder dat ik eraan onderdoor ga.

Dat is herstel.

wat zou ik zelf als eerste aanpakken?

Niet alles tegelijk.

Ik zou beginnen met de biologie zo stabiel mogelijk te maken.

Denk aan:

• voldoende eiwitten en volwaardige voeding
• regelmatige maaltijden in plaats van de hele dag snaaien
• voldoende slaap
• daglicht en beweging
• dagelijks naar buiten
• alcohol tijdelijk beperken
• niet iedere stressreactie oplossen met suiker
• afstand nemen van prikkels die je obsessief opnieuw activeren

En vooral: verwacht niet van jezelf dat je binnen drie dagen niets meer voelt.

Loslaten is geen knop.

Het is een leerproces van je brein.

kan ik dit zelf?

Voor een normale rouwreactie na het einde van een relatie kan dat vaak prima.

Goed eten, slapen, bewegen, mensen zien, nieuwe ervaringen opdoen en je zenuwstelsel niet voortdurend opnieuw activeren zijn allemaal dingen die je zelf kunt beïnvloeden.

Blijf je echter maandenlang extreem angstig, slaap je nauwelijks, functioneer je niet meer of merk je dat oude trauma’s volledig worden opengetrokken, dan is alleen voeding niet genoeg.

Dan moet je breder kijken.

En dat vind ik belangrijk om erbij te zeggen.

Voeding is krachtig.

Maar voeding is niet voor ieder probleem de volledige behandeling.

wat heeft dit met nederland slank te maken?

Meer dan je misschien denkt.

Bij Nederland Slank kijken we niet alleen naar kilo’s.

Ik wil begrijpen waarom je lichaam doet wat het doet.

Stress, slaap, insuline, voeding, neurotransmitters en je hormonale systeem beïnvloeden elkaar voortdurend.

Wie chronisch gestrest is, slecht slaapt en de hele dag zijn beloningssysteem probeert te repareren met suiker en snelle koolhydraten, krijgt een totaal andere metabole situatie dan iemand die goed gereguleerd is.

Daarom beginnen we bij Nederland Slank niet met:

eet gewoon minder.

We kijken naar je metabolisme, je bloedwaarden, je voeding en waar nodig ook naar de neurobiologie die je gedrag aanstuurt.

Dat kost ook inzet van jouw kant.

Ik kan je lichaam niet voor je herstellen.

Maar ik kan wel veel gerichter laten zien waar je kunt beginnen.

Wil je weten wat jouw lichaam nodig heeft om weer beter te reguleren? Plan dan een intake bij Nederland Slank. Dan kijken we niet alleen naar wat je eet, maar naar wat er biologisch achter je klachten en je eetgedrag gebeurt.

Why letting go is not just a matter of willpower — and how you can support the biology of recovery

We tend to talk about heartbreak as if it were purely emotional.

You have to accept it.
Stop thinking about them.
Move on.
Give it time.

But anyone who has experienced a painful breakup, rejection or abandonment knows that it does not feel like a simple thought you can switch off.

Your body reacts too.

You may wake up with a knot in your stomach. You cannot stop thinking. You check your phone even though you know there will be no message. You lose your appetite — or suddenly crave sugar, alcohol and comfort food. You may feel restless, unsafe or almost physically ill.

That is because heartbreak is not only psychological.

It is also neurobiological.

Research into social rejection shows that some of the brain systems involved in physical pain, stress regulation, reward and social connection are also activated when we feel rejected or excluded. The endogenous opioid system — the system in which our own endorphins operate — responds directly to both social acceptance and rejection.

This gives us a completely different way of looking at heartbreak.

Not as weakness.

Not as lack of discipline.

But as a nervous system that has temporarily lost an important source of safety and regulation.

Your own internal safety system

Endorphins are usually associated with exercise or the so-called “runner’s high”, but that is only part of their role.

Our endogenous opioid system is also involved in attachment, social reward, pain regulation and feelings of connection and safety. Current research supports an important relationship between social bonding and the endogenous opioid system, although the precise mechanisms in human attachment are still being investigated.

When you feel deeply connected to another person, your nervous system gradually learns:

I am safe here.

The sound of their voice, physical contact, familiar routines, messages, shared meals and simply knowing that person is there can all become part of your biological regulation.

Then the relationship disappears.

And your nervous system has not caught up yet.

One way to understand this is as an endorphin crash: the external source of familiarity, connection and reward suddenly vanishes while the brain is still expecting it.

That may help explain why heartbreak can resemble withdrawal.

Your rational brain may understand perfectly well that the relationship has ended.

Your biology is still looking for the person.

Why rejection affects some people much more deeply than others

Not everybody responds to a breakup in the same way.

One person is devastated for several days but gradually regains equilibrium. Another may remain dysregulated for months, experiencing intense abandonment anxiety, obsessive thinking or an almost unbearable need to reconnect.

Part of that difference is shaped by our history.

Early-life stress and adversity can leave measurable epigenetic signatures in genes involved in stress regulation. One of the systems being studied is POMC — proopiomelanocortin. POMC is a precursor molecule from which several biologically active peptides are produced, including β-endorphin.

Studies in both animals and humans show that childhood adversity can be associated with altered methylation of POMC and other genes involved in the stress response.

That does not mean there is one “abandonment gene”, nor that we can look at POMC and predict someone’s attachment style.

But it does illustrate something important:

The way we respond to emotional stress is partly shaped by biology, and biology itself can be shaped by earlier experiences.

This is one of the most interesting areas where neurobiology, psychology and epigenetics meet.

When love itself activates the alarm system

There is another paradox.

For someone who has learned early in life that closeness can also mean unpredictability, rejection or pain, intimacy may activate two opposing systems at once.

Part of you wants to move closer.

Another part of your nervous system says:

Danger.

This can create the confusing push-pull pattern we often see in relationships: intense attraction, followed by anxiety, withdrawal, panic or an urge to escape as soon as genuine emotional intimacy develops.

Within the integrative epigenetic model described by Lucas Flamend in The Endorphin Recovery Plan, this is discussed in terms of disturbed endorphin regulation and what he describes as endorphinergic stress. His work combines the endogenous opioid system with the endocannabinoid system, stress biology, trauma and epigenetic regulation.

Whether we use that particular model or the broader language of attachment and stress neurobiology, the principle is useful:

Sometimes the problem is not that someone does not want connection. Their nervous system has learned to experience connection as potentially unsafe.

Anandamide: the biology of letting go

And then there is another fascinating system: the endocannabinoid system.

One of its best-known signalling molecules is anandamide, sometimes nicknamed the “bliss molecule”.

I prefer to think of it in this context as part of our biological letting-go system.

Anandamide is involved in stress regulation, emotional learning and the extinction of fear responses. One of the enzymes responsible for breaking anandamide down is called FAAH — fatty acid amide hydrolase.

This matters because experimental human research has shown that reduced FAAH activity, and therefore stronger anandamide signalling, is associated with improved extinction of learned fear and lower stress reactivity. Pharmacological FAAH inhibition has even produced a large rise in anandamide in experimental studies and improved the recall of fear-extinction learning.

Think about what happens after a painful breakup.

You see a photograph.

A song comes on.

You drive past a familiar place.

Your phone makes a sound.

And within milliseconds the old emotional programme fires.

The goal is not to erase the memory.

The brain has to learn:

This memory exists, but I am safe now.

That is essentially what fear-extinction learning does.

The memory remains.

The alarm attached to it gradually becomes weaker.

Can nutrition and phytotherapy support this process?

This is where things become especially interesting from an integrative perspective.

We cannot supplement away grief. Neither should we try.

Grief contains information and requires processing.

But we can create biological conditions in which the brain has a better chance of regulating itself.

Kaempferol and the endocannabinoid system

Kaempferol is a naturally occurring flavonoid found in foods including broccoli and endive.

In laboratory research comparing commonly occurring flavonoids, kaempferol was the most potent inhibitor of FAAH that was tested. By reducing FAAH activity in cells, it reduced the breakdown of anandamide.

That makes kaempferol particularly interesting from an integrative epigenetic perspective.

But there is an important distinction.

The laboratory evidence demonstrates FAAH inhibition in vitro. We cannot yet conclude that taking a particular dose of kaempferol automatically produces a clinically meaningful increase in brain anandamide in humans.

So I see kaempferol as a promising nutritional tool, not as a drug-like treatment for heartbreak.

Apigenin and nervous-system calm

Another interesting flavonoid is apigenin, naturally present in parsley, celery and chamomile.

Apigenin has been studied for its effects on GABAergic signalling, stress pathways, neuroinflammation and neuroplasticity. Animal studies suggest anxiolytic and antidepressant-like effects and possible involvement of GABA, monoamines and BDNF-related signalling. Human clinical evidence, however, is still limited.

Within integrative protocols it may therefore be considered as part of a broader strategy aimed at reducing excessive nervous-system arousal — rather than as a stand-alone treatment.

The goal is simple:

Your brain needs to experience calm without needing the other person to create that calm for you.

That is a major part of recovery.

Go into the forest

One of the simplest interventions is also one of my favourites:

Walk among trees.

Forest exposure — often studied as shinrin-yoku or forest bathing — has repeatedly been associated with reductions in perceived stress, anxiety and short-term cortisol levels.

Trees also release volatile organic compounds often referred to as phytoncides. These compounds are being investigated as one possible biological mechanism behind some of the effects of forest exposure, alongside movement, quiet, light, sensory input and removal from an overstimulating environment.

I would not claim that inhaling phytoncides literally “repairs your amygdala”.

The science is not that far yet.

But we do know enough to say this:

A stressed human nervous system generally functions better after time in nature than after another hour of staring at a telephone waiting for somebody to text.

And sometimes that is precisely the intervention you need.

Be careful with the quick fixes

Heartbreak creates an uncomfortable emptiness.

And the brain hates emptiness.

So it starts searching for something that will change its state quickly.

Wine.

Chocolate.

Sugar.

Fast food.

Endless scrolling.

Dating apps.

Checking your ex’s social media.

Sending “just one more” message.

Each of these can create a short-lived shift in reward, arousal or emotional pain.

But there is a problem.

If every uncomfortable feeling is immediately followed by a dopamine-producing behaviour, the brain never properly learns:

I can feel this emotion and still be safe.

Alcohol can additionally disturb sleep and emotional regulation, while highly rewarding foods and compulsive digital behaviours can keep reward-seeking loops active.

The goal after heartbreak is therefore not to eliminate every difficult feeling.

It is to stop repeatedly teaching the brain that the difficult feeling can only be survived by escaping from it.

Heartbreak needs time — but time is not the only ingredient

“You just need time” is only partly true.

Your nervous system needs new experiences during that time.

Experiences of safety without that person.

Pleasure without that person.

Calm without that person.

Connection with other people.

Movement.

Good food.

Sleep.

Nature.

New places.

New memories.

Every time your brain experiences something that used to trigger the old alarm and discovers that nothing terrible happens, another tiny piece of relearning takes place.

The prefrontal cortex gains more control.

The alarm response loses some of its power.

The craving becomes less urgent.

And eventually you notice something remarkable.

You can still remember the person.

You may even still care about them.

But your body no longer reacts as if your survival depends on getting them back.

That is what letting go really looks like.

Not forgetting.

Not becoming indifferent.

But reaching the point where the memory no longer controls your nervous system.

And perhaps that is the most useful message neurobiology can give us about heartbreak:

You do not have to force yourself to stop feeling. You need to help your brain learn that you are safe again.

A while ago, I decided it was time to work on myself.

Not just a little.

I went all in.

So I signed up for a psychedelic retreat. (Yes, really. And before you start typing objections, my sister actually studied this at Harvard. 😉)

You know the kind of place…

Where everyone says things like:

“Your vibe attracts your tribe.”

By day three, I was almost starting to believe it.

I remember thinking:

“Liesbeth, this is going to be your year.”

And sure enough…

Not long afterwards, I met a wonderful man.

Great conversations.

Great sense of humour.

He seemed genuinely interested.

He texted.

He called.

He wanted to see me.

For a brief moment, I actually thought the universe had finally sorted out its paperwork.

Then I remembered…

The universe probably lives in Portugal.

Which explained quite a lot.

Because after a few weeks, that same man slowly turned into an emotional Wi-Fi signal.

Sometimes three bars.

Sometimes one.

But usually…

“No connection.”

Apparently, I’d wandered out of range.

My first thought?

“What did I miss?”

My second thought?

Well…

Probably my third.

“Hang on… this is actually far more interesting than I thought.”

As a practitioner, I see people every day whose bodies react long before their minds understand what’s happening.

Why should love be any different?

Maybe falling in love isn’t just chemistry between two people.

Maybe it’s neurobiology.

Perhaps it’s a nervous system that once learned that genuine closeness isn’t entirely safe.

That can leave someone longing for connection…

Right up until the moment real connection begins.

And that’s what fascinates me.

Not because I want to label people.

But because I’m becoming increasingly convinced that we only begin to understand human behaviour when we also understand the biology behind it.

That’s exactly why we work differently at Nederland Slank.

We don’t start with calories.

We start with the body’s building blocks.

Using blood analysis, we identify which nutrients the body needs to function at its best.

Only then do we look at regulating the nervous system. For that, we use an extensive neurotransmitter questionnaire, allowing us—when appropriate—to recommend targeted nutritional supplements that support healthy regulation.

Because a nervous system that’s constantly on high alert responds differently.

To stress.

To food.

And sometimes…

To love.

And no…

I still don’t know whether that retreat actually attracted my tribe.

But it certainly gave me a fascinating subject to explore.

And honestly?

I suspect the insights I’ve gained will last a lot longer than a few weeks of being in love.

Ik besloot eens flink aan mezelf te werken.

Niet een beetje.

Nee, meteen goed.

Dus schreef ik me in voor een psychedelische retreat. (Jawel… en mijn zus is erop afgestudeerd aan Harvard, dus niet meteen allerlei bezwaren gaan typen. 😉)

Je weet wel… zo’n plek waar iedereen zinnen zegt als:

“Your vibe attracts your tribe.”

Na drie dagen begon ik het bijna te geloven.

Ik dacht: nou Liesbeth, dit wordt jouw jaar.

En ja hoor.

Niet lang daarna ontmoette ik een ontzettend leuke man.

Leuk gesprek.

Leuke humor.

Veel belangstelling.

Hij appte.

Hij belde.

Hij wilde afspreken.

Ik dacht zelfs even dat het universum eindelijk zijn administratie op orde had.

Maar toen bedacht ik me dat het universum waarschijnlijk in Portugal woont…

Dus dat verklaarde een hoop.

Want na een paar weken veranderde dezelfde man langzaam in een emotionele wifi-verbinding.

Soms had je drie streepjes.

Soms één.

En meestal de melding:

‘Geen verbinding.’

Blijkbaar was ik buiten het dekkingsgebied beland.

Mijn eerste gedachte?

“Wat heb ik gemist?”

Mijn tweede gedachte? Nou,… misschien de derde.:)

“Wacht eens even… dit is eigenlijk veel interessanter dan ik dacht.”

Want als behandelaar zie ik iedere dag mensen bij wie het lichaam reageert voordat het hoofd begrijpt wat er gebeurt.

Waarom zou dat in de liefde anders zijn?

Misschien is verliefdheid niet alleen een kwestie van chemie tussen twee mensen.

Misschien is het vooral neurobiologie.

Een zenuwstelsel dat ooit heeft geleerd dat echte nabijheid niet veilig is.

Dat kan ertoe leiden dat iemand heel graag verbinding wil… totdat die verbinding daadwerkelijk ontstaat.

En precies dát fascineert mij.

Niet om iemand een etiket op te plakken.

Maar omdat ik steeds meer geloof dat we menselijk gedrag pas echt begrijpen als we ook de biologie begrijpen.

Dat is ook de reden waarom wij bij Nederland Slank anders werken.

Wij beginnen niet met calorieën.

Wij beginnen met de bouwstoffen.

Op basis van bloedonderzoek kijken we welke voeding het lichaam nodig heeft om weer optimaal te functioneren.

Pas daarna kijken we naar de regulatie van het zenuwstelsel. Daarvoor gebruiken we een uitgebreide neurotransmitterchecklist, zodat we – als dat nodig is – gerichte regulatiestoffen kunnen adviseren.

Want een zenuwstelsel dat voortdurend op scherp staat, reageert anders.

Op stress.

Op voeding.

En soms ook…

…op liefde.

En nee…

Ik weet nog steeds niet of die retreat mijn ‘tribe’ heeft aangetrokken.

Maar hij heeft me in ieder geval een geweldig onderwerp gegeven om me verder in te verdiepen.

En eerlijk?

Dat levert waarschijnlijk veel duurzamere inzichten op dan een paar weken verliefdheid.