This July has me rethinking my relationship with food.

July in South Florida always makes me especially aware of my body.

For one, the heat is relentless. My bedroom, which is on the second floor of the 1960s townhouse my mom inherited from my grandfather (poor air circulation), is always uncomfortably warm by bedtime. I think I want to spend time on my back patio, until, after just a few minutes outside, I realize that I don’t. I'm drinking more water without thinking about it, craving fruit almost every day, wanting lighter meals, and noticing that my body is much more responsive to spicy and fatty foods than it used to be.

That's had me reflecting on how much moving from New York changed my relationship with food.