The Instagram clip starts with a warning. “If you believe ‘ignorance is bliss,’” it says, “don’t watch this video.” As an influencer slices fruit on a cutting board, a series of provocative claims descend down the screen — about what she says is actually in peanut butter, vanilla flavoring and the rain, among other things.
It’s the kind of post that has become common in the online wellness world, where prominent voices often express skepticism of the establishment and an openness to conspiracy theories.
But what makes this influencer unusual is her age. She’s only 17, and a high school junior.
Ava Noe, a teenager based in the Boston area, has amassed more than 25,000 Instagram followers while criticizing ultra-processed foods and promoting colostrum supplements, mouth tape and beef tallow. Her posts have suggested that iodized salt is “toxic” and described fluoride as “poison.” And her popularity on the platform — where she goes by @cleanlivingwithava — has earned her a paid partnership with a fluoride-free toothpaste company and affiliate work with other brands, including one that sells “non-toxic” skin care products.
Ms. Noe, a self-described “crunchy teen,” is just one of a number of young influencers who appeal to other health-conscious kids their age. At times, their anti-establishment viewpoints fall in line with those of Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and the “Make America Healthy Again” movement, which has expressed skepticism of the scientific community and large food corporations.
The teens’ videos, while at times factually questionable, highlight a desire among some to avoid the chronic illnesses and other conditions that have plagued their elders.
“There are more teenagers than you think who are worried about their health,” Ms. Noe said.
But the fixation on health has unnerved some medical experts, nutritionists and educators, who have noticed concerning degrees of health anxiety among some teenagers.
At high schools, teachers have noticed that “cleanses” and “detoxes” are popular with their students, as is wellness more generally, said Bertha Vazquez, a former middle school teacher who now runs Generation Skeptics, an organization that works with educators to combat misinformation in the classroom.
Teenagers have long struggled with body image issues and eating disorders, but Dr. Jasmine Reese, the director of the Adolescent and Young Adult Specialty Clinic at Johns Hopkins All Children’s Hospital, said she has witnessed an uptick in the number of teenage patients obsessing over what they eat.
Some started to restrict portions or emphasize certain nutrients, like protein, while avoiding others, Dr. Reese added. “That leads to a lot of medical complications and consequences — not just weight loss, but vitamin deficiencies.”
Dozens of teachers have told Ms. Vazquez that teens are getting health advice from wellness influencers, leading to misinformed or oversimplified views, she said.
But now, Ms. Vazquez added, “it’s not just that they’re listening to wellness influencers; they want to become wellness influencers.”
Down the Wellness Rabbit Hole
Annika Zude, a 16-year-old in the Quad Cities region of Iowa, is one of those teenagers. She is a fan of figures like Andrew Huberman, the brother-sister duo Calley and Casey Means and the conservative commentator Candace Owens.
“Of course, I’m up-to-date with R.F.K.’s posts,” she said.
Ms. Zude’s father, Brad Zude, is a health influencer who runs the Instagram account @healthydadbrad. And last year, Ms. Zude decided to start her own health account on TikTok, @thatcrunchygirlannika — inspired, she said, by how bad ultra-processed foods made her feel. She has since racked up almost 40,000 followers with videos of herself walking through grocery stores, critiquing popular snacks and personal care products.
Ms. Noe, the Boston area teenager, started her own account in 2023, after she was diagnosed with irritable bowel syndrome and began searching for “alternative ways” to heal, she said. “I was just desperate for something.” She descended into a social media rabbit hole and became fascinated by the idea of eating and living “clean.” Today, she likes to use ChatGPT to ask about the benefits of, say, red light therapy, then read the suggested studies.
Alex Siskos, a 16-year-old in Toronto, runs a nutrition and fitness Instagram page called @juniorfitnutrition that has more than 300,000 Instagram followers. To find inspiration, he studies popular influencers’ videos and tries to repackage them for a teen audience, he said. His regular “What I Ate Today” videos often cater to his age group’s limited budget.
Other videos offer advice on topics like how to “heal” acne through diet alone.
Mr. Siskos’ mother, Aleisha Aziz, said her son’s focus on health sometimes concerns her, but she prefers it to him downing energy drinks and regularly eating out.
Online Trust, Real-Life Concerns
Danielle Shine, an accredited dietitian in Australia, said she recently learned that a teenage client was sourcing health information from Ms. Zude.
The client believed that Ms. Zude “really knew what she was talking about,” Ms. Shine said. “There’s a lot of trust developed there — quite a strong parasocial relationship.”
That was concerning to Ms. Shine, who studies online nutrition misinformation and sees Ms. Zude’s posts as oversimplified. Her client had an eating disorder and Ms. Zude’s content was leading to additional “stress, anxiety and shame around food and eating,” she said.
Ms. Zude said other teens go to her for information as well, peppering her with questions about the ingredients in body washes and what to eat if they have a particular condition.
Ms. Shine said people like her client should consult qualified professionals for nutritional information, not online posts that lean on “fear” and “sensationalism.”
“Nutrition is an ever-evolving field that requires the ability to assess complex science and understand its nuances,” Ms. Shine said. “This isn’t something that can be easily understood through random online searches or superficial content created by unqualified individuals who are likely vulnerable to misinformation themselves.”
“Totally get it,” Ms. Zude said of the criticism, adding that she is “still learning even today.” But she proudly calls herself a “big conspiracy theorist,” giving as an example that she believes that the health care and food industries want to keep Americans sick. (“That’s why we’re given Jell-O at hospitals,” she said.) In one of Ms. Zude’s videos, she also made an unproven connection between cereals and autism.
Mr. Zude supports his daughter’s social media efforts and believes people give “young teenage girls who want to eat healthy a bad rap,” he said, adding: “I’ve never met a person that has an unhealthy obsession with health.”
Adhering to a healthy lifestyle, though, can get in the way of typical teenage pursuits. There are times, Ms. Noe acknowledged, when her regimen requires her to end a night with friends early. When they ask her to stay a little longer, she stands strong.
“I just want to go home and do my red light therapy, put my glasses on, make my sourdough and go to bed,” she said.
