Over 30 years in business, I've picked up a lot of "principles" that sounded good in theory and fell apart in practice. This isn't one of them. It's held up in every role, every team, and every hard conversation I can remember. I wish someone had handed it to me on day one. Presume best intent. A colleague ghosts your email for three days. A teammate cuts you off mid-sentence. Your manager forwards your idea without crediting you. You have a choice: assume the worst, or assume the best. That choice, made dozens of times a week, shapes how well you work with people — and how well they work with you. Why we don't do this naturally Under pressure, we reach for the laziest explanation: they don't respect my time. They think I'm unimportant. They're that kind of person. It feels true because it's simple. But it's rarely the full picture. More often, they're buried in a deadline, didn't realize you weren't finished, or just forgot — not malicious, just human. Why it's the better bet - Most friction comes from pressure, not malice. Overload looks a lot like rudeness from the outside. - Assuming the worst has a cost even when you're right. Guarded, defensive communication damages relationships faster than the rare vindicated suspicion is worth. - It keeps you curious instead of defensive — "Hey, was there a reason you didn't loop me in?" is easy to ask when you're not already at war. - It's reputational capital. People remember who stayed level-headed when things went sideways. What it's not Not a blank check. Repeated behavior is data, not an isolated incident. Give the benefit of the doubt once or twice — then let the pattern speak. Not silence, either. You can believe someone didn't mean the harm *and* still tell them the impact. That conversation goes better when you're not walking in angry. How to practice it 1. Pause before reacting. 2. Name one charitable explanation before you settle on the uncharitable one. 3. Ask before you assume. 4. Notice when your own language turns to motive ("they clearly don't care") — that's the tell you've skipped to judgment.

Back in May, I graduated from the University of Florida with my Master's degree in Public Health (MPH). This accomplishment was the culmination of years of late nights, endless assignments and exams, and maybe a breakdown or two along the way. You might think that discipline and hard work are what got me here, and they certainly helped, but really, the thing that carried me through it all was curiosity. I arrived at college a scared, yet determined, 18-year-old experiencing life for the first time. The moment I stepped into my first collegiate-level chemistry class, I was sure this was the path to my lifelong dream of becoming a physician. So I did all the things a typical pre-med does to get into medical school: organic chemistry, physics, hospital volunteering, clinical experience, leadership on campus — the works. But somewhere in the middle of going through the motions, something in me knew I wanted to make a difference on a larger scale. I didn't quite know what that looked like yet, so I let curiosity take the front seat and signed up for a public health course on the U.S. healthcare system. I fell in love with the content and discovered a side of healthcare I never knew existed. A truth built around a single, uncomfortable truth: a broken system full of unnecessary barriers that only the most wealthy can overcome. I became obsessed with the idea of fixing that system and closing the gaps that leave so many people at the mercy of an industry that too often prioritizes profit over health. I knew it was wrong, and I cared too much to look away. That curiosity is what led me to pursue an MPH, where I focused my studies on how care is delivered and how we fix what's broken. The coursework was hard, and there were plenty of moments that felt overwhelming, but I kept that curiosity in the back of my mind, and it was enough to pull me through and keep me working toward this new passion. I found policy to be the most effective lever for making the change I so desperately wanted to see. I sought out opportunities in health policy reform that were data-driven and actually served people, not just numbers. While finishing my coursework, I started a position with the U.S. House of Representatives, working on healthcare policy at the federal level. I built the skills and knowledge to finally do the work I'd once only dreamed about.

Hi everyone! I’m Evan, and I work on the nutrition content here at The Honest Cut. I’m currently working toward my PhD in Nutrition Sciences while also working toward becoming a registered dietitian. I’m so happy to be here and to be part of your journey toward a healthier lifestyle, whatever that may look like for you! I wanted to make a quick post about a topic I’m sure you’ve been hearing a lot about lately: protein. Protein seems to be everywhere right now. We hear about hitting our protein goals, adding protein to every meal, and trying to eat as much of it as possible. And protein is important but more is not always better. For weight management, protein-rich meals can help you feel fuller and may make it easier to manage your overall calorie intake. Protein is also essential for maintaining and building muscle. But here’s an important point: protein alone does not build muscle. Think of protein as providing the building blocks, amino acids, that your body uses to build and repair muscle. To encourage muscle growth, your body also needs a reason to build that muscle. Resistance exercise, such as weightlifting, provides that stimulus. Your body also needs enough overall energy to support your workouts, recovery, and muscle growth. Carbohydrates are an especially important fuel source during moderate- to high-intensity exercise, while fat also provides energy, particularly at rest and during lower-intensity activity. Protein can be used for energy too, but that is not its primary role. This is why protein, carbohydrates, and fats all matter. They do different jobs, but they work together to support your health, activity, recovery, and body composition. For most healthy adults, the Recommended Dietary Allowance (RDA) for protein is 0.8 grams per kilogram of body weight per day. If you exercise regularly or are very active, your needs may be higher—often around 1.2–2.0 g/kg/day, depending on your activity level and goals. And while getting enough protein is important, eating more and more protein does not automatically mean more muscle. Research suggests that for most people doing resistance training, the muscle-building benefits begin to level off around 1.6 g/kg/day. Your training, total calorie intake, recovery, and overall diet still matter.

Workout and quick run great start to the day!

Quick run to start the day!