Georgia’s Story
With a degree also in Psychology, I help people figure out their issues with food, sort through confusing diet advice, and advocate for the importance of balance and moderation.
My passion for helping those with a complicated relationship with food stems from my own experience with an eating disorder in my late teens.
At nineteen, I discovered dieting.
Almost overnight, I turned from a spontaneous, happy and confident girl who took life by the balls, to a sad, lonely and insecure girl who was driven by ‘being healthy’ and the comfort of her routine.
In my inability to control what was going on around me, I turned to food and exercise as an outlet of control.
With the help of my perfectionist and OCD nature (a wonderful feeding ground for my eating disorder), I cut out everything I used to love in the aspiration of becoming the healthiest version of myself I could be.
Over a few months, my obsession with being healthy became quite the opposite.
I became highly anxious and confused around food.
I stopped eating out and socialising with those I loved.
I used food and exercise to reward and punish myself (mostly punish).
I let the number on the scale dictate my sense of self-worth and food choices, every single day.
And do you know what is the most mind-boggling thing about it all, people who didn’t know me that well, the people who didn’t see what it was doing to me on the inside, were complimenting me for it. Complimenting me on my smaller appearance. My self-restraint for not ordering dessert. My drive to exercise every day, rain hail or shine.
I remember so clearly one night, my parents calling me into the lounge room. My mum had been researching eating disorders on the internet and was telling me everything I was not ready to hear. I remember my dad, breaking down crying, as the man that could always fix anything could not fix this for me.
The three of us were scared. We were confused. And we did not know how to make this better.
I won’t sugar-coat it. Finding help and recovery wasn’t easy.
It was the hardest thing I have ever done.
The number of times I went to bed hoping that tomorrow was the day I was going to change. To have tomorrow be exactly the same as the day, week and even month before.
The number of times I turned down breakfasts with friends or dinner dates with my boyfriend.
The number of tears and screaming matches I had with my mum over what I was going to eat.
The number of times I told her I hated her.
The number of times I cried myself to sleep, just wanting it to all go away.
It wasn’t until something clicked inside of me.
Tired of missing out on life I realised that my obsession with what I ate and how I exercised was impacting every part of my life.
Not even just that, it was also ruining those I loved.
And for what?
A few kilos on the scale?
To feel constantly tired and cold?
To going to bed every night feeling sad?
Enough was enough.
Over time, I committed to getting help and understanding what nutrition was actually all about.
I had a burning desire to get better so that I could prevent others from going through what I went through.
To this day, I am so grateful to my family and boyfriend (now fiancé) for not letting me fight this fight on my own.
When I was ready, I completed my undergraduate degree in Psychology and moved into Nutritional Science, followed by a Master of Nutrition and Dietetics. It was over those last three years that I developed an appreciation for my body and the food I was choosing to put in to fuel and nourish it.
It was through these years that I began to heal my relationship with my body and make peace with my plate, one meal at a time.
Today I have a much more balanced approach to health. I am gentler to myself. I don’t diet or exclude any food groups, and I move my body from a place of kindness, not punishment.
Now I am here to help you do the same.
Those food rules and routines you live by, no longer have to be your narrative.
The real you that you have lost, we can find them again.
It’s time to show the world that you are worth more than just waiting for the next meal to come.
It’s time to bring you back.
Let’s do this, together.