My story…

As a child, I always felt out of place in my body. I wasn’t as physically capable as others—struggling to skip, ride a bike, or climb a tree. I was slower, less coordinated, and last in every race. My sister was the opposite: climbing the tallest trees, roller-skating effortlessly, and embodying the physical confidence I longed for. I constantly compared myself to her, feeling awkward and incapable in my own skin.

My relationship with food only deepened these feelings of inadequacy. I was often told I didn’t know when to stop eating (which I now recognise as a symptom of ADHD), while also being expected to finish everything on my plate rather than trust my appetite. The confusion and mixed messages planted seeds of a story I told myself about eating and food that would grow with me.

I have vivid memories of schoolyard taunts, like a cruel chant comparing my sister and me: “Fatty and Skinny…” That poem stuck with me, carving out an identity I didn’t ask for.

By the time I was a teenager, I was hyper-aware of my body, convinced I was bigger and bulkier than my friends. In reality, photos show I wasn’t in a “large” body. I just didn’t have the long, slim build that was idealised in the 1990s.

But the comments, the teasing, and the comparisons left a lasting impact. I threw my lunches in the bin aged thirteen to try and shrink myself, only to succumb to secret eating later on and I wore the shame of every diet I failed to stick to.

This pattern of dieting, over-eating, and self-criticism only deepened as I grew older. I didn’t know then that my ADHD was amplifying these struggles. I sought comfort, control, and escape in food—only to feel guilt and shame afterward. Food became both a reward and a punishment, a way to cope with big feelings I didn’t understand.

By my mid teens, I thought I’d found the solution: diets. Whether it was slimming classes, or 1,000-calorie-a-day regimens, I threw myself into every rule and restriction, believing they held the key to self-worth. And while I saw short-term success, life happened and the weight always came back—with more shame attached - until I reached a size 22 (UK).

By my early 40s, I was convinced I’d finally cracked the code. An 800-calorie-a-day meal replacement diet had me drop eight and a half stone (120 lbs, 54KG) in a year. I fit into a UK size 10 dress for the first time in my adult life. People showered me with compliments. I was so excited about this "magic" diet that I jumped at the chance to help others achieve this too - I thought it was our solution.

But inside? I was exhausted. Miserable. Obsessed with food. I felt a failure. My self worth became even more deeply attached to my scale weight, my dress size and maintaining an instagram perfect "after" photo.

Every “success” I had came with a catch. The bingeing always returned, the weight crept back, and I felt like I was failing (both myself and my clients) all over again and was terrified it would get totally out of control if I kept going this way. Worse still, I saw the same happening for so many of my clients.

Why? Because dieting only treats the symptom, not the cause.

For me—and for many women I’ve worked with—disordered eating is tied to deeper issues:

1. Seeking self-worth through our bodies

2. Using food to numb or soothe overwhelming emotions

3. Battling ADHD-related impulsivity and decision fatigue

The turning point for me came when I was diagnosed with ADHD. Suddenly, the patterns of my life made sense: my impulsive eating, struggles with routine, and difficulty sustaining healthy habits. I realised I wasn’t “failing” at diets; diets were failing me. They couldn’t address the deep-rooted challenges of disordered eating and ADHD.

This realisation changed everything. I stepped away from helping others to diet - I simply don't believe in it any more as a long term solution to health, contentment and an intact sense of self-worth.

I retrained and qualified as a certified nutrition coach, specialising in disordered and emotional eating. I became a certified ADHD coach to help women like me navigate the unique challenges ADHD brings to food, self-care, and self-worth. And I worked on myself—learning how to break free from the binge-restrict cycle, rebuild trust with my body, and see my value beyond my weight.

It wasn’t until I stopped dieting and started working on me that I broke free. I learned to eat with compassion, trust my hunger, and stop tying my self-worth to my weight.

I’ve learned to eat without guilt or shame, to honour my body’s needs, and to embrace balance over perfection. My self-esteem no longer hinges on a dress size. Instead, it’s rooted in the promises I keep to myself and the care I give to my body and mind.

I’m here to help other women with ADHD break free from the diet trap, heal their relationship with food, and rediscover their self worth. True freedom comes from addressing the root causes of disordered eating and learning to live in alignment with who you are.

This journey isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. Because you deserve more than a lifetime of chasing diets, a scale weight or a dress size. You deserve to live fully now.

If this resonates with you, I’d love to help you on your journey to food freedom, self-acceptance, and balance.