30/01/2026
TLDR; You probably need therapy.
It would be very easy for me to jump on the
“I had disordered eating habits — I see you!” train.
But the truth is, there’s far more complexity and nuance here than handing out another diet plan with a side of empathy to make it legit.
From the age of 14, my relationship with food changed.
Trying to not eat all day at school felt normal.
Getting home ravenous and bingeing felt inevitable.
Here began an unintentional rhythm.
And for decades, I lived right on the edge with food.
What I didn’t understand then — and what I understand very clearly now — is that this wasn’t about discipline, laziness, or lack of awareness.
I wasn’t “failing” at food.
I was trying to regulate a nervous system that was chaotic, overwhelmed, and completely ungrounded — with the only tool I had available.
Food became my regulator. Control became my safety.
I had nothing else.
Truthfully, it’s only in the past year of my life that I’ve found anything resembling neutrality around food — and that hasn’t come from better nutrition strategies.
It’s come from nervous system work.
In 2021, I created Fearless Freedom — my own nutrition programme, designed around moderation and freedom with food. I worked with a small group of beta clients, and I remember something very clearly:
When clients struggled, it wasn’t because they weren’t trying hard enough.
It was because they were under-resourced.
Their capacity was already stretched to breaking point — sometimes non-existent. And this is the part that rarely gets talked about: if you don’t have capacity, trying to create more discipline will backfire. Every time. Because there’s no space for humanness to expand into when it needs to. No room for rest, grief, stress or life. So despite having nutrition qualifications, I no longer coach. I don’t believe people need more recipes and macro splits. They need to get up close and personal with how and why food is supporting them emotionally. And that belongs, IMO in a therapeutic relationship- with someone trained to hold emotional complexity. Not just someone who’s been through the “same” s**t. Because food isn’t the problem. And it never really was.