The Story I Almost Didn't Tell

I almost didn’t share this. I’ve spent years putting this off but I finally feel ready to share. Annnnd yes, it feels silly to say that. But I want you to get to know me better, the real me. Because all I’ve ever wanted was to grow a community of women that felt like best friends. A safe space for women’s health and all things wellness that feels like one big group chat.

But you can’t do that when you only know someone from their highlight reel. It’s like the “friend” you see at Pilates once a week. You chat it up, laugh, have a great time, but the conversation is never that deep.

That’s not what I want. I don’t want you to just know me from the highlights or my credentials and accomplishments. Yes, I’m a mom of 2 (soon to be 3), wife of my high school sweetheart, dietitian, hormone health expert, content creator and recipe developer. I’m all of those things, and I’m very proud of that.

But beyond those titles are deeper layers. The layer I want you to know.

I want to let you in and understand me. Feel seen. Not in a selfish, all-about-me way either. But in a way that fosters deeper connection. Maybe you realize we’re more alike than you think. Or that I’ve walked the journey you’re on now or one you’ve also walked before. Maybe you simply learn things you’ve never known about me before, and in a way that makes you want to stick around. So in a way it’s about me but also about why I started Nourished by Nutrition.

Let me start with the basics of who I am underneath the titles. I’m an only child. I’m a perfectionist (although now I say recovering perfectionist). But you know the joke on Instagram about the perfectionist, straight A, people pleasing child that now ends up with all the autoimmune, thyroid, adrenal issues?? Yeah…I’ve made the connection.

Don’t get me wrong, I was so loved growing up. I was also pushed to do my best, and I’m genuinely so grateful for that. But I can see now how it’s shaped my sense of worth. Not because I wasn’t loved enough, but because somewhere along the way I learned to set impossibly high expectations for myself, because I wanted to be perceived a certain way.

Which is probably why vulnerability has always been hard for me. I have trouble sharing when I’m in the thick of something. I’d so much rather come to you after, once I’ve already got the lesson figured out. That way I can say “here’s what I went through, here’s what I learned, so you don’t have to go through it too.” That’s the expert in me talking. But it’s not always the most honest way to connect.

My family moved when I was seven. Even though we were now closer to family, the change, switching schools a few times, and my growing anxiety caused me to have continuous panic attacks. By age 8 I was diagnosed with anxiety with my biggest symptom being feeling sick to my stomach. This feeling occurred so often to me that it became my biggest fear. I was an anxious kid in every sense: afraid of abandonment, afraid of being alone, afraid of throwing up. And I still feel those anxieties creep up today.

So basically, I was (I am) an anxious perfectionist holding myself to very high standards.

By middle school and into my teens, that anxiety and high standards manifested into something else…body image. Girls and boys are so incredibly mean to each other at that age. I still wonder sometimes if it's jealousy, or just what happens when everyone's insecure at the exact same time. I couldn't tell you a single compliment anyone gave me back then because why would I remember those? But I can recite, word for word, every negative comment that left an imprint on my soul. Grade school "hairy arms and legs" (I shave them now, for the record). Bumps on the backs of my arms that I insisted were just goosebumps.

I moved again when I was fourteen. It was another transition. I was slowly making friends but 7th grade girls already had their cliques locked in. The cattiness was starting, and pointing out each other's flaws wasn't exactly rare during those pubescent years. This is where it started.

Who knew that the things people said to me at thirteen would trigger such a downward spiral years later. Facebook's "honesty box" was all the rage, and again I couldn't tell you one nice thing anyone ever wrote me, only that "thunder thighs," "shave your mustache," and "gorilla arms" are imprinted in my memory forever. And not coincidentally, those turned out to be the exact parts of my body I became most insecure about. I started noticing my weight and comparing myself to the other girls around me.

Instead of appreciating everything my body could do, I tore it apart. I hyperfocused on it. And eventually, I “did something about it.”

Now in high school, there was a new friend group, more freedom but also new outlets for that same perfectionism: soccer, grades, control.

I was extremely active playing competitive soccer 10 months out of the year and filling my down-time with swim team and soccer camps. I weight-trained and conditioned outside of practice, so I had strong legs and a very muscular build compared to other girls my age. Due to my activity level and still growing, I could easily down a 12 oz smoothie packed with granola, and three pieces of toast doused in cinnamon and sugar after school and of colure, still be hungry for dinner. I never thought too much about what I should eat since I was essentially burning through the food so quickly.

I became deeply committed to soccer, with 12+ hours a week devoted to practice, conditioning, and games, plus more time dedicated to weekend traveling for games and tournaments. I began paying more attention to how food affected my performance and made sure I was eating to fuel my activities. I was eating out more with friends and never thought twice about indulging in my daily fix of candy, ice cream, muffins, or cookies. It wasn’t until my growth spurt started slowing and my intake of ultra-processed junk remained the same that I started feeling dissatisfied with myself.

Then I turned sixteen. With being able to drive came more house parties and in turn came alcohol. Despite my commitment to my sport the weekends I was in town, I was ready to live it up. My friends and I would chug beers and pound down shots using soda as chasers. Drinking just to get drunk almost every weekend. Binge drinking regularly mixed with nights of scarfing down pizza, fast-food tacos, and chips and cheese dip did not sit well with my waist-line. I vividly remember noticing my school uniform skirt getting tighter and declaring to my mom I needed to go on a diet.

And that’s just what I did.

First, I started cutting back on the soda, candy, fried food. The typical junk foods. Then all of a sudden I became obsessed. I set a weight goal and limited myself to 1800 calories a day. I didn’t pay too much attention to what I was eating as long as it fit into my day’s goal. However, the sugar laden “diet” foods (read: anything labeled "thin," "light," or "low-fat") made it a whole lot easier to stay within my goal.

If it was the weekend, I’d plan in my alcohol and restrict my food. I was still training daily so my activity level remained the same. I figured out how much I could get by with eating while still being able to have the energy to perform.

Once the pounds started coming off, I was elated. Plus, I was getting compliments which only escalated my obsession.

My relationship with foods became completely unhealthy. Food was no longer fuel but the thing that would make me fat. I kept my fat intake low and started avoiding meat. Sweets were out of the question. I reached my weight goal but like I said before, it became an obsession.

There was always someone smaller and prettier I would seek out and idolize. Why would I be satisfied when I was so good at this?? My diet became my control and calorie counting my way of life.

Even after attending outpatient therapy for my eating disorder senior year of high school, this continued into the first part of college. I was playing D1 soccer (hated it because of the training and how they wanted me to gain weight. So much so that I stopped after my first semester). I was eating enough to meet my needs and activity level but I still clung to the number game inside my head. Calorie counting was a daily habit for everything I put into my mouth.

It wasn’t until I transferred into the Nutrition and Dietetics major sophomore year that my mindset started to slowly change. Learning about the body’s chemistry and the function of nutrients on a cellular level allowed me to start feeling more comfortable around food and focus on the importance of getting an adequate amount of all the nutrients.

Learning about different foods and their relationship to disease helped emphasize the importance of eating whole, unprocessed foods. The more knowledgeable I became on the health benefits of plants, the more I started to gravitate to a vegetarian diet.

I’d be lying if I said there was no eating disorder thinking playing a role in my dietary preferences at the time. Defining my diet as vegetarian gave me the ability to cover up any disordered eating restrictions with a label. Because of my personality type, this also became an obsession and my vegetarian diet turned into a vegan diet, only because I was able to restrict more. I was convinced I was being the healthiest version of myself by eating a vegan diet.

Truthfully, this was nowhere near healthy. Aside from unnecessary restriction, I wasn’t feeling my best. I began to develop IBS symptoms and felt fatigued. I sought out doctors and started toying around with the idea of possible sensitivities, all while ignoring the fact that my mindset and restrictions were the underlying cause. However, I continued on like this out of routine, comfort, and fear of not having the restriction and vegan label to cling to.

Looking back on this I also know I was living in a severely moldy dorm and then apartment which mixed with the low nutrient intake and low detox capacity ended up shaping a lot of my future.

I finally graduated from my 4 years of Nutrition and Dietetics undergrad and 1 year combined master’s and dietetic internship. I absolutely knew that clinical dietetics or working in a hospital were not for me. I already had a functional view on health and the current recommendations did not align whatsoever.

In fact, when asked what I was going to do after graduation I said I was going to start a blog and work for myself seeing clients. I’d always say that I’d be a barista rather than step foot in a hospital. *cue the eye rolls from teachers* But this is where I decided that I would do whatever it takes to make what I wanted to do work.

I started Nourished by Nutrition from my parents’ kitchen as a recipe blog.

At this time the blogging world was hot, recipe blogs were taking off and food photography was everything. Instagram was a reflection of the food blog photos and juuust getting started. It was the perfect time to jump in. I was also working remotely for two local dietitians, helping with writing blog articles and with nutrition counseling clients.

In 2016, right after graduation I moved in with Ben. About a year later we were engaged. I stopped birth control in the spring of 2017 and my period didn’t return for two years. At first, this didn’t seem like that big of a deal but the more I researched, I realized how big of a deal it actually was. I wanted nothing more than to be a mom someday. I finally realized these things couldn’t happen without my period.

This was a huge turning point for me and my health. It was like finally, something clicked. I realized how selfish I was being by not giving all of my energy to restoring my health. It wasn’t just about me anymore. Marrying my husband meant it was about us. Our life together and the dreams we had for the future. I wanted to give my husband what he wanted, a family.

In 2019, I stopped my medications and I worked with a functional medicine practitioner. After one month of the homeopathic remedies, I was able to my period back and 2 months laster get pregnant.

That pregnancy didn’t just give me my first son. It gave me proof that healing was possible, and that the anxious, perfectionist kid who’d spent two decades white-knuckling control over her body could actually learn to trust it instead.

I could keep going from here. How restoring my period actually happened. The mold journey I FINALLY uncovered and that I’m still living. How motherhood cracked wide open in me and what I struggle with a lot. How Nourished by Nutrition grew from a laptop in my parents’ kitchen into what it is today. But that’s not one post. That’s a whole shelf of them. And honestly, I’d rather tell you those stories one at a time, the way you’d tell a friend over coffee, than cram them all into one very verrrry long read.

So this is where I’ll leave it for now. An anxious, perfectionist kid who spent years trying to control her body because she didn’t know how to trust it, finally learning that her body was never the enemy to begin with. Everything after this, the healing, the mothering, the business, the mess of figuring it all out in real time, that’s what the rest of this Substack is for.

If any part of this felt familiar, I’d love to hear it. Drop a comment or message me directly. That’s the group chat I’m trying to build here and I want to feel safe enough to share, if you feel called.

P.S. I almost didn't hit publish on this one. Some old habit of wanting to have it all figured out, all healed and packaged into a lesson, before I say it out loud. But that's the exact thing I just told you I struggle with, so I figured the most honest thing I could do was publish it anyway.