There’s nothing more uncomfortable for many women than navigating body change. Whether it’s postpartum, TTC, perimenopause/menopause, depression, or simply a season where your routine, schedule, and overall wellness are turned upside down — the transition can feel heavy and so far out of your control.
We hold ourselves to such high standards, and the narratives of pop culture and social media only add fuel to the fire. For me, weight was always such a loaded thing. Growing up — and even as a dietitian –I felt caught between two very different worlds. On one side, there was the message of health-at-every-size and weight neutrality. On the other, the constant cultural pressure that health and beauty meant being thin. Living in that tension while also battling my own unhealthy relationship with my body left me confused, ashamed, and afraid that caring about my body image would somehow make me “vain” or unhealthy.
Over time, I realized there was space in the middle — that it’s ok to want change, and that desire doesn’t have to come from punishment or force, but from grace, kindness, and love toward my body. And I’ve learned this too: sometimes there are simply seasons where change in your body isn’t available. Other priorities, higher needs, or deeper healing have to come first.
That’s why I always say: weight change (whether it’s up or down) is a byproduct of bigger physical or emotional need. And those needs have a journey of their own.
I know this terrain intimately.
I grew up holding very high standards for myself — which quickly led to shame, judgment, and years of self-ridicule. That desire for control, especially when I felt powerless elsewhere, turned into hyperfixation on the one thing I thought I could control: my body and my health.
Studying nutrition only fueled it, and before I knew it, I had spent nearly a decade in orthorexic eating patterns with a compensatory relationship to exercise and food. I was depleted, missing a period, constipated, exhausted from insommnia, living with chronic pain and recurring face hives, chronically bloated, and a hypoactive thyroid.
What I didn’t realize was how much my “white-knuckling” for control left me emotionally disconnected, lacking joy, anxious, and hypervigilant. My immune system was taxed, my body was under-resourced, and my adrenals were running on fumes.
Layer on years of recurring mold exposures (college dorms, grad school housing, work environments, apartments in Chicago) and hormone replacement therapy… by then, my detox pathways were overburdened, my immune system wasn’t responding appropriately to infections, my adrenals were toast, and my thyroid didn’t have the resources to keep up.
And then my body said: enough is enough.
I started to gain weight — at first close to 20 pounds in a single year, then gradually creeping up until I was nearly 50 pounds above my lowest adult weight. For someone with perfectionist tendencies, who had misplaced her worth and purpose around controlling her body and health — and who was a practicing dietitian — this was a little earth-shattering. I was embarrassed. I didn’t recognize myself.
But here’s the thing: that season forced me into completely new terrain. The kind where I had no choice but to cultivate a real level of self-love, compassion, and grace for a body I wanted nothing to do with… while also navigating a health crisis I didn’t yet understand.
Six truths I learned the hard way
1. You can’t hate your way to a better body.
The self-rejection I carried for most of my life only inflamed this season. What shifted things was finding even the smallest entry point to love myself and create joy right where I was — even in a body I didn’t want to claim as mine.
2. Waiting to be happy until you look a certain way is a losing game.
For years, I told myself I’d start dating when I felt better. I’d be more confident, attract the right people, and then I’d finally be worthy of love. The hard truth was: if I never felt better, how was I going to live my life? I was tired of putting my whole life on hold. I had to stop waiting and meet myself where I was — and learn to love myself without contingency.
3. Even in discomfort, you can find safety in your body — it is on your side.
Through a season of surrender — gently recommitting to the foundational diet and lifestyle practices and boundaries I needed, and clinically supporting my adrenals, metabolism, detox, and inflammation — I found trust again. I learned to hold an “AND” belief: I can be deeply uncomfortable AND still trust my body is working with me, not against me.
4. You can’t skip the metabolic prerequisites.
I spent tens of thousands each year on labs, IVs, peptides, and new doctors… and I was still spinning my wheels. I was trying to build my house of health on a broken foundation. It wasn’t until I got really honest with myself — saw my own patterns, called myself out — that things started to shift. Until I consistently rebuilt the basics — food, minerals, circadian rhythm, stress, nourishment, emotional healing — none of the high-level work mattered.
5. Weight shifts are rarely about “eat less, exercise more.”
For me, weight gain was never just about food or exercise. It was my body’s way of saying something deeper needed attention. Sometimes weight is fat mass, sometimes water retention, sometimes the weight of stress and unmet needs. I had to learn to see it as information rather than failure. Quick fixes — whether restrictive diets or GLP-1 drugs — might move the scale, but without understanding why the weight came on, those changes won’t last. Understanding the root drivers or your weight picture is imperative.
6. Healing meant both rebuilding and releasing.
For me, it required both: restoring the basics I had long skipped over, and letting go of the fears, beliefs, and baggage I had carried for years. That was the hardest part — because those stories had become part of how I defined myself. My body quite literally held on to weight until I learned how to loosen my grip, soften, and let go. It was at that point that I began to truly see progress. I could finally address the secondary biochemical imbalances — mold, parasites, and chronic infections like Lyme — that had developed in an unsupported terrain. While they were weighing heavily on my system, I came to understand they weren’t the core issue on their own.
At the time, gaining weight while my health was unraveling felt insurmountable. On the other side, I feel proud — proud of the deep work, proud of the 30 lbs I released in a healthy way after nearly five years of carrying weight I didn’t recognize, and proud of the compassion I built for myself along the way.
And I’ll be honest: none of this happened overnight. The real shift came when I pivoted away from the overly complex and back to the ground up. That pivot became the foundation of the very approach I use with my clients today — and the foundation for the new self-paced curriculum I’ll be rolling out this winter.
Healing is not linear. There are ups and downs, even after progress. We live in an Amazon Prime world where instant results are expected — but real, lasting healing requires surrender, patience, and honesty with yourself about what routines truly serve you.
And the truth is: your body wants to work with you, not against you.
If this resonates with you, I’ve shared more of the mindset truths I leaned on in those most uncomfortable seasons inside my Self-Nourishment Series — some of the exact pearls that helped me when I felt most disconnected from my body.
And if you’re ready to connect about your unique health story — and explore what it would look like to finally get clarity and support on your journey — you can book a call with me here.
