I spent most of my life at war with food.
I grew up a competitive swimmer, training most days of the week, competing most weekends, and somehow, despite that, I grew up believing I was the "big" one. And, I remember being a teenager and genuinely believing that being thin was the only thing that would make me happy, and likeable enough.
So I did what a lot of women reading this have done. I restricted all week and lost control of it every weekend. I found punishing workout routines and told myself that was discipline. I counted calories on and off for years, never quite consistent, always starting again on Monday. I compared my body and my plate to every girl around me, certain I was the problem, when really I was just an athlete who'd never been taught how to feed one.
It didn't click into place with one big moment.
It clicked when I moved out, took control of my own kitchen for the first time, and worked with a coach who taught me things nobody had ever explained to me before, not more rules, just understanding.
I lost the weight I'd carried from years of restrict-and-binge, and more importantly, I got my relationship with food back. Chocolate lives in my cupboard now and I don't think about it all the time. I still overeat sometimes, I'm only human, but it's never again felt like the out-of-control spiral it used to be.
I actually wanted to study nutrition at university. I talked myself out of it, and studied Architecture instead. I spent five years in a corporate interiors and architecture role I was good at and quietly hated, no flexibility, no room to be myself, no space for the thing I actually cared about. Eventually I left, trained properly in nutrition, and built the coaching practice I'd needed a decade earlier.
I believe the plan you were given or the diet you followed last was never designed for your real life, and that's not your fault.
I believe understanding why you do what you do will always create more lasting change than another set of rules ever could.
I believe food should sit quietly in the background of a full life, not take up the whole foreground of it.
I coach the way I wish I'd been coached, with real conversations instead of rigid templates, with curiosity instead of judgement, and with a plan that bends around your actual week instead of demanding you bend around it.
I'm not interested in helping you follow a perfect plan for six weeks...