Last week, Goop’s former chief content officer spoke out on social media denouncing “all cleansing”. For Elise Leohnen, it had become synonymous with dieting and restriction. “I felt like I was not in a healthy relationship with my body… I was always trying to punish it; to bring it under control,” Loehnen explained. She went on to confess that since leaving the wellness brand she had been “eating like a teenager for two years, and enjoying it to be honest”.

Fair enough. Keeping up with Gwyneth Paltrow, 49, the notoriously disciplined, lithe-limbed founder of the lifestyle brand, must have been tough. Not to mention how the pressure to embody the wellness principles that underpin Goop’s brand philosophy would take its toll on any mortal, especially if you haven’t grown up in Hollywood’s glare as Paltrow has.

I can relate to Loehnen’s sentiment. At my core I am a comfort eater, dining like a teenager for bouts of time in a thinly veiled attempt to soothe and distract from the undulating hormones and responsibilities that plague women in midlife. Though, if I’m honest “comfort eating” is an oxymoron. Like alcohol, it feels good temporarily but the positive effects are fleeting.

When I indulge in salty fried foods, creamy sauces and sugary treats, the end result is far from comfortable. Bloating and pain ensue, my mood dives, energy levels dip and fine lines, dark circles and puffiness appear out of nowhere. Needless to say, this is no advertisement for a beauty editor whose job it is to report on the answers to youthful, healthy-looking skin. In short, when I eat c— I feel like c—; and my digestive issues testify to this.

Despite Leohnen’s experience, much as I’ve tried to prove otherwise, when I eat like a typical 16-year-old I slip into a vortex of low mood and unwanted weight gain faster than I care to admit. Eating like a teenager can be harmless when you are one, but when you’re over 40, your gut, skin and libido will tank.

In my 20s, my stomach could take anything that was thrown at it. Half a dozen Cosmopolitans and a late-night kebab couldn’t derail my gut’s microbiome. Nor could stress. My stomach lining was ironclad.

Or so I thought. I was in my mid-40s when I noticed the shift – nutritionist Gabriela Peacock told me this is the time when silent gut issues rear their head. By this age, I naturally steered towards healthy-ish food, but at the end of a pressing day I wasn’t immune to the occasional takeaway and glass of wine, which soon began to result in intolerable gut pain and worsening skin.