Apple Cider Vinegar on Netflix

A Wellness Scam, a Social Mirror, and the Lies We Tell Ourselves

There’s something I keep thinking about after watching Apple Cider Vinegar something that lingers, like the aftertaste of a green juice you really wanted to believe would fix your gut, your skin, your life. At what point does a lie become real? Is it when people start believing it? When it makes money? Or is it when we’ve told it to ourselves so many times, we don’t know where the truth ends and the fiction begins? Because if you strip away the wellness branding, the clean girl aesthetic, and the sun drenched Instagram posts, Belle Gibson was a product of a world that rewards the most convincing storyteller, not the most honest one.That’s what makes this whole thing so unsettling.

When Health Becomes an Aesthetic Instead of a Science

Wellness stopped being about actual health a long time ago. Once upon a time, “healthy” meant you weren’t sick. Now? It’s a $500 skincare routine that promises to “detox” your face (even though your liver already does that). It’s a tea that claims to “boost metabolism” (but actually just dehydrates you). It’s a supplement that “balances hormones” (even though your endocrine system is a little more complex than that). Somewhere along the way, we stopped listening to doctors and started trusting influencers with good lighting and a convincing personal journey. And that’s exactly how Belle Gibson happened.

Belle Gibson didn’t just sell a lie she believed it. This isn’t speculation. It’s a psychological phenomenon called “delusion by proxy” when someone convinces themselves of a falsehood because it benefits them emotionally, socially, or financially. Confirmation bias: She surrounded herself with people who believed in alternative healing. Cognitive dissonance: Admitting she was lying would mean losing everything so she didn’t. Social reinforcement: Every like, comment, and follower validated her story. She built an identity. And when someone’s entire sense of self is wrapped up in a narrative, they will go to extreme lengths to protect it. Even if that means lying to the entire world.

The Internet Rewards Certainty (Even When It’s a Lie)

One of the most dangerous things about the internet is that the loudest voice wins. The people who say “I think” or “We need more research”? They get ignored. The ones who say “I KNOW the secret to healing your body”? They get millions of followers, book deals, and brand sponsorships. Wellness influencers have more engagement than medical professionals. Diet culture thrives, even though 95% of diets fail long-term. People trust an anecdote from a stranger on TikTok more than decades of peer-reviewed studies. Because certainty is seductive. And the internet doesn’t care if you’re right it cares if you’re convincing.

Watching Apple Cider Vinegar, I couldn’t stop thinking about how easily we fall into the trap of wanting something to be true. The story that if we just eat clean enough, work hard enough, optimize enough, We’ll be healthy. We’ll be happy. We’ll be enough. But life isn’t an aesthetic. Healing isn’t an influencer journey. And no amount of apple cider vinegar is going to solve a systemic failure of healthcare, trust, and science literacy. So maybe the real takeaway from this show isn’t “wow, what a scam.” Maybe it’s a reminder to ask better questions. To be skeptical of certainty.
To stop treating health as a performance. And to remember that the truth even when it’s complicated is always more powerful than the prettiest lie.

Have You Watched Apple Cider Vinegar?

Is this just another scammer story, or a sign of something much bigger?