Book Review: My Gut by Ada J Peters

What if your gut is trying to tell you something—and you’ve spent years ignoring it?

Bloating. Brain fog. Fatigue that doesn’t quit. You’ve tried everything—new diets, endless supplements, doctor after doctor—and still, your body feels like a puzzle missing half its pieces. Sound familiar? You’re not alone. And that’s exactly why Ada J. Peters wrote My Gut—not just as a book, but as a lifeline.

This isn’t another sanitized health guide filled with one-size-fits-all advice and glossy wellness buzzwords. My Gut is a raw, real, and revealing journey through the world of IBS, SIBO, dysbiosis, and everything in between. Peters writes from the trenches—of the clinic, the kitchen, the ER waiting room—and her voice is that of a warrior who got tired of being dismissed and decided to take her healing into her own hands.

Yes, she gives you the science: the gut-brain axis, the sneaky influence of mold, the role of the vagus nerve. But more than that, she gives you the story. And sometimes, stories are what we need most—especially when we’re in the kind of pain no test result can fully explain.

She talks about food intolerances not as diet trends but as emotional landmines. About stress not as a buzzword but as a biochemical saboteur. And about healing not as a checklist but as a messy, maddening, miraculous process of listening—really listening—to your body.

At its core, this book feels like sitting across from someone who finally gets it. Someone who’s been where you are—scared, frustrated, fed up—and who made it through by becoming her own advocate. Peters doesn’t sugarcoat it: healing your gut is hard. It’s inconvenient. It can be lonely. But with each chapter, she hands you pieces of a map. Not the kind that promises shortcuts, but the kind that helps you find your own way.

Could the book offer a bit more in terms of actionable daily routines? Maybe. Will skeptics of holistic health roll their eyes at mentions of mold or the subtle power of the parasympathetic nervous system? Probably. But for the reader who has been told “it’s all in your head” one too many times, this book is an overdue validation—and a much-needed toolkit.

Think of My Gut not as a quick fix, but as a gentle guidepost—part science, part memoir, all heart. It’s what you reach for when you’re done with symptom-chasing and ready to reclaim your story. And maybe, just maybe, it’s the book that helps you stop surviving your body and start living in it.

Because healing isn’t just about what you remove from your plate. It’s about what you finally begin to feed your soul.