Firmicutes, Psoriasis, and Me: Notes from a former pasta addict who found hope in green tea, lentils, and a changing microbiome

 

Firmicutes, Psoriasis, and Me: Notes from a former pasta addict who found hope in green tea, lentils, and a changing microbiome...

I think my psoriasis is trying to heal. One of the larger lesions that has camped out on my skin for years is almost gone. I don’t know if I should credit my diet or chalk it up to hormonal shifts—at 47, I could be sliding into menopause, though I won’t know for sure for months. Either way, I’ll take the improvement as a good sign.

Over the past several months, I’ve reshaped how I eat. I drink green tea every morning. I take fish oil and vitamin D. I eat lentils so often that my husband jokes he’s “down with the Lentil Life.” (I keep trying to make #LentilLife trend, but I have zero social media game.) Fermented foods are regular guests in my kitchen—kefir, kimchi, sauerkraut, even the occasional Yakult. Olive oil and avocado oil have become my default fats. I eat fish regularly. Red meat isn’t banned, but it rarely shows up. Artificial sweeteners are gone—no diet soda, no Splenda, nothing. Processed food is rare, and while I still indulge occasionally—like the night I joined my family of five for Panda Express walnut shrimp and rice—those meals are the exception, not the baseline.

Last night I ate lentils cooked with savoy cabbage, jalapeño, garlic, and quinoa, followed by a handful of unsalted almonds for dessert. A few weeks ago, I treated myself to homemade pesto with basil from my garden, real parmesan, olive oil, and pine nuts, tossed with Aldi penne made from durum wheat. What surprised me was what didn’t happen afterward: I didn’t crave more pasta. For someone who used to feel like noodles were a full-blown addiction, that was huge.

I suspect the shift has as much to do with gut bacteria as it does with willpower. I probably had a major imbalance before, with a group of bacteria called Firmicutes running the show. These little microbes are notorious for demanding more calories, more starch, more fat—basically more fuel for themselves. They’re efficient at squeezing every last calorie from food, which means more gets stored in the body and fewer satiety signals make it to the brain. In plain terms: I kept feeling hungry even when I wasn’t.

When Firmicutes dominate, it’s like living with a pack of whiny roommates who never stop yelling from the kitchen, “Feed us more!” Pasta was always an easy yes. My cravings ruled me, and my gut microbes threw the party.

Now the balance feels different. I eat more beans, greens, ferments, and healthy fats than ever before, and my cravings have quieted. I’m sure Firmicutes are still there—many are useful—but the mix seems healthier. Diversity in a system is usually a good thing. It’s true in ecosystems, communities, and, it turns out, in the microbiome too. The food noise has gone quiet. I don’t crave noodles anymore. I don’t feel driven by hunger all the time. And I think my psoriasis might be noticing.

I’m not calling this a cure. Psoriasis is too stubborn for that. It flares and calms in cycles I can’t always predict. But I am hoping that my choices—small daily ones like brewing green tea instead of sweetened coffee, cooking lentils instead of grabbing boxed pasta, pouring kefir instead of diet soda—are stacking the odds in my favor. Even if the fading lesions are partly due to hormonal shifts, I’ll take it. Seeing improvement motivates me to keep going.

If nothing else, I’ve learned that food isn’t just fuel. It’s communication. What I eat speaks directly to my gut, and my gut whispers back to my brain, my skin, my energy, even my cravings. For the first time in a long time, the conversation feels less like shouting and more like quiet hope.