Hey there, sensitive & sharp overachiever!
I love me some knitting and a browsing Ravelry for pattern inspo during my cancels...well and any time, really.
A piping hot latte is one of my happy places.
I usually have to rewash a load of laundry once a week, but I always make time for my sourdough and and The Office.
I finish almost as many crafty projects as I start.
If I could read in a hammock every day, I would...maybe with a coffee in hand.
Sometimes I die a little inside when I have to make a doctor’s appointment or get my oil changed.
my story
I honestly was not even close to acknowledging my issues with food.
I remember the exact moment: I was curling my hair. Doing that thing where you’re trying to inspect if your jaw line is getting better or worse. I was clicking through the food rules I had broken that day. And the thought hit me…
Maybe my anxiety and my dieting are connected. And this is where I'm supposed to type out my big aha moment epiphany plan that launched me into the stratosphere.
BUT I sort of procrastinated and tried to fix it myself instead - I was a therapist for God’s sake. Surely with my master’s degree in one hand, and an Intuitive Eating workbook in the other, I’d be fine. Spoiler: I wasn’t.
I needed someone who knew the things I didn’t
Who would be strong and soft and smart and sarcastic. I finally emailed my therapist. Scheduled that first session, two weeks out. And then waited.
Those two weeks were ones of stomach turmoil and sh*tting my pants.
I went from “I am dedicating my time and life to hEaLtH” and I just need more motivation and discipline to get my life together to “I think I’ve been trapped in a cage for a really long time, and maybe it’s not that I’m too big, maybe it’s the cage that’s too small?”
The best part? I wasn’t alone in the process. There are so many BADASS activists and resources out there that wanted me to succeed, just as much as I did.
Thank the goddesses.
And I did it, sh*tty pants and all.
(but seriously, gastrointestinal distress was an important part of my healing lol)
That being said, it was a journey of constant back tracking, changing up the resources I was using, feeling like a burden to my partner and friends, listening to 987 podcasts, downloading 27 checklists, and trying to purchase a wardrobe that didn’t judge me harsher than I judged me.
All while living in my parents basement.
I know. Yikes.
And because I am the type of person that wants more time for crafting, or just "one more episode" on Netflix, and as many hipster lattes as possible...
And because, as a baby therapist I was taught about the magic of parallel processing (I can only guide you in the flight patterns I’ve flown before)
I wanted a path that could start in the Cave of Confusion, tunnel through the Catacombs of Self doubt, and finally open up to the wide Open Spaces I always wanted.
I didn’t just want tools to practice. I didn’t just want insights and facts. I didn’t just want less anxiety.
I wanted to see the cage of perfectionism for what it was. I wanted to learn how to pick its lock - for myself, at first. I picked the lock, healed my wings, and then took off, like the wild goose I always knew I was.
There’s a reason I didn’t just bash the lock. Saw it off. Melt it down. I learned how to pick the lock so that others can also get out of their cages.
Picking that lock led me to not only being fully recovered for the last five years…
But now I know how you can pick that lock too.
I want you to unlock your cage, infuse your sweet wings with the compassion they always deserved, and then unfurl into the great big blue sky.