Yesterday, we went to the movies. Popcorn in hand, we grabbed a bag of M&Ms—something that used to feel like a simple joy, a little nostalgic treat. But as we opened the package, something felt off.

It wasn’t the candy. It was the packaging.

Remember when M&Ms came in a crisp paper sleeve? Not anymore. Now, it’s plastic. Shiny, crinkly, destined-for-the-landfill plastic.

And that tiny moment—just a snack, just a movie—suddenly felt a lot bigger.

It Adds Up Fast

The truth is, most of us don’t wake up in the morning intending to produce waste. We’re not out here plotting against the planet.

But here’s the thing: even the most well-intentioned, eco-aware person ends up using an astounding amount of plastic in just one day—not by choice, but because we’re not even given one.

Let’s walk through it.

Morning

You wake up, brush your teeth. Most people? Still using a disposable plastic toothbrush. (That’s over 1 billion toothbrushes sent to landfill each year in North America alone.)

You wash your face. The cleanser came in a plastic tube. The moisturizer? Plastic tub. The deodorant? Plastic twist-up.

You make breakfast—maybe some yogurt from a single-serve cup (plastic), berries in a clamshell container (plastic), and pour a smoothie made with almond milk (plastic carton with plastic cap). Toast with peanut butter? That’s a plastic lid, too.

Before 9am, you’ve already used multiple pieces of plastic—none of which are easily recyclable. Some won’t ever break down.

Midday

You grab a coffee. Even if you bring your reusable cup (kudos!), the lid is still often plastic. The stir stick? Plastic. If you’re getting lunch to go, you can expect your salad or sandwich to come in a plastic clamshell, wrapped in more plastic, with plastic cutlery on the side.

Oh, and the dressing? Tiny plastic tub.

Even when you ask for “no utensils,” they usually sneak them in anyway.

Afternoon

Pick up a prescription? It comes in a plastic vial. Grab a pack of gum? Plastic wrapper. Buy anything at all from a drugstore? Everything is shrink-wrapped, safety-sealed, or contained in plastic. Lip balm? Plastic tube. Face wipes? Plastic-laced sheets in a plastic container.

Even your receipts—if you take one—are coated in BPA, a plastic-based chemical linked to hormone disruption.

Evening

You wind down with takeout, and the plastic parade continues: containers, bags, dipping sauces, straws, lids. You watch a show, scroll your phone. The phone case is plastic. The remote is plastic. The cords, the chargers, the screen protectors—all plastic.

And remember those M&Ms?

They’re just one of thousands of formerly paper-wrapped products that have quietly shifted to plastic packaging because it’s cheaper, shinier, and somehow became the industry norm.

Not because it’s better for us.
Not because we asked for it.
But because it cuts corners for corporations.

Most of Us Aren’t Given a Choice

This is what gets overlooked in so many “zero waste” conversations.

We want to do better. But most of the time, the better option doesn’t even exist—at least not at arm’s reach.

Corporations talk a big game about sustainability, then triple-wrap a granola bar in plastic. Or boast about “recyclable” packaging—when most municipal systems can’t actually process the materials they use.

And we’re left holding the bag (literally and figuratively), wondering why it feels so hard to live lightly on the planet.

It’s Not Just About the Landfills Anymore

Let’s be clear: the problem isn’t just what we see piling up in our garbage cans. It’s what we don’t see.

Microplastics—those tiny, invisible particles that come from broken-down plastic products—are now in our oceans, our soil, our food, our water, and yes, even our bodies.

They’ve been found in human blood. In placentas. In breast milk.

It’s no longer a distant environmental issue. It’s a health one. And every time a company chooses plastic to save a few cents, we all pay the price—eventually.

So What Can We Actually Do?

Here’s the good news: individual action still matters. But even more powerful is when we support products and companies that choose differently—ones that build sustainability into their DNA instead of slapping a green label on a disposable product.

At Nada, we designed our toothbrush around this very frustration.

Because the default toothbrush? It’s still made of plastic. And you throw it out every three months.

We said no thanks.
Instead, we made a toothbrush with a 100% aluminum handle you keep—and replaceable heads you send back to us to be properly recycled.

It’s not perfect. But it’s progress. And it’s proof that better design is possible—if companies are willing to care.

One Less Thing to Feel Powerless About

You can’t control what M&Ms are packaged in. You probably can’t stop your yogurt from coming in plastic, or force every takeout spot in your city to switch to compostable containers.

But you can make changes that feel good. You can choose a better toothbrush. A reusable water bottle. A bar of soap over body wash. A shampoo bar. A refill shop.

You can raise your voice. Share posts. Ask questions. Opt out when you can.

Because once you see how much plastic is forced into your day without your consent, it’s hard to unsee it.

And maybe that’s the first step.

Final Thought

We’re not asking you to be perfect. We’re asking you to notice.
And when possible, to choose differently.

Because change doesn’t come from guilt. It comes from realizing you deserve better—and the planet does too.