Every week, I explore a thought-provoking question from Gregory Stock’s The Book of Questions. These questions invite us to reflect deeply on our lives, our values, and the experiences that have shaped us. This week’s question asks us to consider our upbringing:

“If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?”

This question immediately sends me down memory lane, sifting through childhood moments both cherished and challenging. It’s interesting how our upbringing forms the foundation of who we become, yet we rarely pause to consider what we might have changed if given the chance.

The Sweet Temptation: My Childhood Relationship with Soda

If I could change one thing about my upbringing, it would be something that might seem trivial at first glance: the prevalence of soda in our household. In my childhood home, sugary carbonated beverages weren’t occasional treats—they were standard fare at nearly every meal.

While many families had rules like “water with dinner” or “soda only on weekends,” my home operated differently. That familiar hiss of a can opening or the pour of a fizzy drink into a glass was the soundtrack to our family meals. It wasn’t seen as indulgence but rather as normal, everyday hydration.

At the time, this seemed wonderful. What kid wouldn’t want unlimited access to sweet, bubbly drinks? I remember feeling lucky compared to friends who had stricter parents who limited their soda intake. Little did I understand that those boundaries were expressions of care rather than unnecessary restrictions.

The Long-Term Impact of Early Habits

As an adult, I now recognize the lasting impact of these early dietary norms. The habits formed in childhood have proven remarkably resilient. My relationship with soda has evolved into what I can only describe as my most persistent vice—a daily caffeine dependence and sugar craving that’s extraordinarily difficult to break.

My metabolism isn’t what it once was (is anyone’s?), and those liquid calories add up quickly. When I struggle with weight management—as I frequently do—I can trace a direct line back to those early patterns established around the dinner table.

What feels most challenging is how deeply ingrained these preferences became. Our palates develop early, and mine was trained to expect sweetness with every meal. Retraining those expectations as an adult requires constant vigilance and effort—often more than I can muster.

The Science Behind Childhood Dietary Habits

I’m not alone in this struggle. Research consistently shows that dietary preferences and habits formed in childhood can persist throughout adulthood. According to numerous studies, children who regularly consume sugary beverages are more likely to continue this pattern into adulthood and face higher risks of obesity, type 2 diabetes, and other health issues.

In many ways, the foods and drinks we’re exposed to as children become our definition of “normal.” Our brains develop powerful associations between these substances and comfort, celebration, or simply the routine of daily life. Breaking these associations isn’t simply about willpower—it’s about rewiring neural pathways established during our formative years.

The Complexity of Parental Choices

I want to be clear: this reflection isn’t about blame. My parents, like most, were doing their best with the knowledge and resources they had. The 1980s and 1990s were different times regarding nutritional awareness. The aggressive marketing of sodas as part of a normal American household was at its peak, and the full understanding of sugar’s impact on health wasn’t as widespread as it is today.

Parents make countless decisions daily, most with the best intentions for their children. It would be unfair to judge past parenting choices through the lens of current knowledge. My parents provided in countless positive ways, and this single aspect doesn’t diminish the love and care that defined my childhood.

What I Would Preserve: Unconditional Love

Speaking of love—if there’s one thing I wouldn’t change about my upbringing for anything, it’s the unconditional love I received from both parents. I grew up with absolute certainty that I was loved, supported, and valued, regardless of my achievements, mistakes, or choices.

This foundation of security and acceptance has been the bedrock upon which I’ve built my adult life. In moments of doubt or difficulty, that sense of being fundamentally worthy of love has sustained me. Research consistently shows that secure attachment and unconditional positive regard from parents are among the strongest predictors of emotional well-being in adulthood.

If the trade-off for having less soda in my childhood meant having even slightly less of that unconditional love and acceptance, I wouldn’t make the exchange. Some things are simply too precious to risk.

Breaking the Cycle: Parenting Differently

One of the most profound aspects of reflecting on our upbringing is considering how we might parent differently. While I don’t have children yet, I’ve thought about how I would approach this specific issue if I did.

I would aim to create a home where water is the default beverage and sugary drinks are occasional treats rather than daily staples. I’d want to help my children develop a palate that appreciates a wider range of flavors beyond the intense sweetness that dominated my own childhood preferences.

The challenge, of course, would be practicing what I preach. Children learn far more from what we do than what we say. I would need to model healthy habits myself, which means confronting my own relationship with soda and sugary beverages. Parenting, it seems, often calls us to become better versions of ourselves for the sake of the next generation.

The thought of breaking my own soda habit to be a better role model speaks to the powerful cycle of generational patterns—and the opportunity each new generation has to make conscious changes to those patterns.

The Ripple Effects of Small Changes

What fascinates me about this question is how something seemingly minor—like the beverages served at family meals—can have such far-reaching effects. We often think of significant traumas or exceptional advantages when considering what shapes us, but sometimes it’s the small, daily patterns that leave the most lasting imprint.

Had my childhood featured water instead of soda at meals, would my adult health be different? Would my relationship with food and drink follow different patterns? Would my struggle with weight be less challenging? It’s impossible to know for certain, but I suspect the answer to all these questions is yes.

This realization reminds me to pay attention to the seemingly small choices in my daily life now. What habits am I forming today that might have outsized impacts on my future self? What patterns am I establishing that could become either supports or hindrances years down the road?

The Broader Question: Nature vs. Nurture

This week’s question taps into the classic debate about nature versus nurture. How much of who we are comes from our innate temperament and genetics, and how much from our upbringing and environment?

When I consider my soda habit, I recognize elements of both. Perhaps I have a genetic predisposition toward preferring sweet tastes or developing dependencies. But the environment in which I was raised—where soda was constantly available and normalized—certainly played a crucial role in shaping how those predispositions manifested.

Most of who we are exists in this interplay between our inherent tendencies and the environments that either amplified or dampened them. Understanding this can help us extend compassion to ourselves when we struggle to change ingrained patterns.

Conclusion: The Power of Awareness

While I can’t go back and change my childhood dietary habits, there’s power in awareness. Understanding the origins of our patterns doesn’t automatically change them, but it does give us a starting point for conscious choice.

Perhaps the most valuable outcome of reflecting on what we might change about our upbringing isn’t about wishing for a different past—it’s about creating a different future. Whether that means breaking cycles for the next generation, healing aspects of ourselves that were shaped by our early experiences, or simply extending compassion to the child we once were.

I’m curious to hear from you, readers. If you could change one thing about the way you were raised, what would it be? What would you preserve at all costs? Share your thoughts in the comments below.