Why I Don’t Use SMART Goals in My Nutrition Practice (And What I Use Instead)
I’ve found that a trauma-informed, nervous system–aware approach to behavior change requires a different kind of planning.
If you’ve ever worked with a health coach or nutrition professional, chances are you’ve come across the well-known SMART goal framework. It stands for:
Specific
Measurable
Achievable
Relevant
Time-bound
This is a formula designed to make goals clear, structured, and actionable. For many, SMART goals are seen as a reliable recipe for accountability and follow-through. And for some people, in certain situations, it works just fine.
But here’s the thing: The longer I’ve worked with people with trauma and mental health symptoms, the less I use the traditional structure of a SMART goal.
It’s not because I don’t believe in goal setting. I absolutely do. But when you work with clients who are healing from trauma, living with chronic stress, or navigating nervous system dysregulation, SMART goals can feel… not just unhelpful, but misaligned. In some cases, even shaming.
In my practice, I’ve found that a trauma-informed, nervous system–aware approach to behavior change requires a different kind of planning—one that makes space for the whole person, including the parts of them that are anxious, shut down, overwhelmed, or just trying to get through the day.
Learn how to nourish safety, resilience, and connection with Polyvagal-informed nutrition in my new book, This is Your Body On Trauma, coming out October 28, 2025!
The Problem with SMART Goals in a Trauma-Informed Context
Let’s break down why SMART goals can feel out of sync when working with clients who have experienced trauma or are navigating dysregulation.
They assume a consistent state.
SMART goals often assume that the person setting them will be in the same level of nervous system regulation tomorrow (or next week) as they are today. That they’ll wake up resourced and ready to follow through.
But trauma recovery—and life, honestly—doesn’t work like that.
Someone might feel motivated and connected today, but by the time their goal comes “due”, they could be in sympathetic activation, or dorsal shutdown. And suddenly, the “specific, achievable” goal they were so committed to feels impossibly out of reach. Not because they were lazy or unmotivated but because their nervous system moved into survival mode.
Of course, a skilled provider might recognize this and help the client build in contingency plans or explore multiple versions of the goal.
But the structure of SMART goals doesn’t always prompt that kind of flexibility—and without a trauma-informed lens, it’s easy to overlook the reality of fluctuating capacity.
They tend to create a pass/fail dynamic.
Did you do the thing—yes or no? Did you meet the goal or fall short? For someone healing from trauma, especially with a history of perfectionism, people-pleasing, or shame, this kind of rigid framework can reinforce internal narratives like:
“I failed again.”
“I can’t stick to anything.”
“I’ll never get better.”
That’s the opposite of what we want to foster in a trauma-informed space, where self-compassion and flexibility are central.
They don’t leave room for nervous system nuance.
What I’ve learned—through both clinical work and polyvagal theory—is that behavior change doesn’t just happen in a vacuum. It happens within a state.
When we’re regulated (in what polyvagal theory calls the ventral vagal state), we have access to clarity, motivation, and flexibility. But when we’re in sympathetic activation, everything can feel urgent and chaotic—and when we’re in dorsal vagal shutdown, we may not feel much of anything. Even small tasks can feel insurmountable.
Expecting someone to carry out a goal without considering their internal state is like expecting them to sprint with their shoelaces tied together. It’s not a willpower issue. It’s a nervous system one.
What I Use Instead: Stretch-to-Stress Spectrum Planning
In my practice, I’ve started using a more flexible approach to goal-setting, inspired by Deb Dana’s stretch-to-stress continuum. It’s simple, intuitive, and—most importantly—nervous-system-informed.
This method helps clients plan for different states, so they can stay connected to their intentions even when their capacity shifts. It’s not about doing “the thing” no matter what. It’s about building a relationship with your body that includes options.
Here’s how we do it.
Step 1: Start with How You Want to Feel
Instead of jumping into logistics—“I want to walk 30 minutes every day”—we start by asking:
What’s important to you right now?
What kind of support would feel nourishing, not just productive?
Where in your life are you craving more ease, energy, or connection?
The key question is: How do you want to feel?
That becomes our starting place—not a number, not a target, but a feeling state that’s rooted in regulation.
So instead of “I should be exercising more,” a client might say:
“I want to feel more grounded before work.”
“I want to nourish myself, even when I’m overwhelmed.”
That’s the foundation. From there, we can build a plan that supports the feeling, not just the outcome.
Step 2: Define the Stretch
Once we’ve identified how you want to feel, we look at what that might look like on a day when you’re feeling resourced and regulated. The “stretch” is your aspirational version of the plan—it’s still doable, but it asks just a bit more from you. It assumes your nervous system is in a good place.
One client recently shared that they wanted to build a more grounding morning routine before work. Their stretch looked like this:
“I wake up at 6:45, go for a 15-minute walk outside, do five minutes of breathwork, and eat a warm breakfast.”
It’s not about doing that every day—it’s about knowing what’s possible when things are flowing.
Step 3: Make a Plan for Stressed
But what about the days when everything feels hard? The mornings when your brain is foggy, your chest is tight, and the idea of doing anything feels like too much?
That’s where the “stressed-state” plan comes in.
We create a toolkit of small, regulating actions to use when you're in sympathetic or dorsal states. These aren’t about productivity. The only goal when you’re in a survival state is to gently support a return to regulation. That same client came up with this:
“If I wake up feeling anxious or low, I’ll drink some water, sit by the window for a few minutes, and take three deep breaths.”
Other examples from clients include:
Watching dog videos for five minutes
Taking a longer-than-usual shower
Singing to a playlist while getting ready
Sitting under a weighted blanket with tea
None of these are “goals” in the traditional sense. They are ways to return to yourself gently—so you can re-engage with your day, if and when it feels possible.
Step 4: Build a Middle Ground
Most days aren’t perfect or terrible. They’re somewhere in between. So we create a plan that meets you in that middle space.
This might look like:
“I skip the walk but still make breakfast and play calming music.”
“I stay in bed a little longer, but take a few deep breaths before getting up.”
“I don’t do the full routine, but I step outside for fresh air and light.”
“I eat without multitasking and keep my phone off for the first 30 minutes.”
Each one supports the original feeling—grounded, nourished, steady—but with less demand. Over time, this flexibility is what builds consistency. It helps clients care for themselves without tipping into all-or-nothing thinking.
Why This Goal-Setting Approach Works
This model is still structured. It’s just a structure that breathes. It recognizes that:
Capacity isn’t fixed.
Nervous systems fluctuate.
Support needs to adapt with those shifts.
Instead of leaving sessions with one binary goal, clients leave with a menu of options: the stretch, the stressed plan, and the middle ground. Each one connected to the same intention, scaled for different levels of capacity.
Planning goals around the stretch-to-stress continuum builds resilience. It fosters self-trust. And it helps clients stay in relationship with their goals—even on hard days.
Super helpful. Thank you!