Being a woman or non-binary person who doesn’t like their body is deeply frustrating, a constant energy drain and just no fun. Laminate a layer of shame overtop for feeling this way at all, and you’ve got yourself a paralyzed state of intense self-hatred.
Struggling with your body in no way feels like the emancipating promises of feminism. It feels like…sexism.
And that’s the rub: as feminists, we know we feel negatively about our bodies and food because of what we’ve been taught by a diet culture that benefits from our insecurities—and yet, we don’t know any other way to feel.
Good news, friends. I’ve got a solution for you: bitchcraft.
Bitchcraft is the art of un-learning to be good.
It is the magic of unwinding all of that socialization that taught us to hate our bodies in the first place and finding something so much sweeter. It’s identifying the systemic oppression (hello, fatphobia and anti-Black racism) that benefits from our self-policing and divesting from it entirely. And it’s the power to simply dispense with both the cultural messaging and the bullshit inside your own head and replace it with relaxed, joyful self-confidence.
By practicing bitchcraft, you bring an end to emotional eating, binge eating and chronic cycles of dieting—once and for all.
It’s a big task, and my role is to support you in taking it on.
I’m on a mission to help people like you create a deep well of self-trust, access supreme self-confidence and find ease in their own bodies.
I’ve been into social justice ever since I was a mouthy teen attending protests and writing petitions. Later, I snagged myself a Ph.D. in political science from a notoriously lefty university. Then I established myself as a professional analyst and advocate working in the field of women’s health care.
But despite all my smarts and political cred, I still just hated my body.
The fact that working for the empowerment of women and other marginalized folks was my jam, and yet I would melt down at the thought of putting on a bathing suit in public? It was a shame sandwich, my friends, and I had to eat it every damn day.
(I don’t eat shame sandwiches anymore—I much prefer a little arugula and tomato with havarti on a crusty bun.)
So how could a person like me, who knew exactly how beauty standards are weaponized against women, be so poorly equipped to reject them?
I simply didn’t know how to. So I accepted them. I told myself it was my body’s fault, and the only way out of the misery was to shrink it as much as possible.
I spent decades going on and off various diets, meal plans, “protocols,” “lifestyle changes,” and other assorted forms of bullshit. From Slim-Fast to traditional Chinese medicine, the South Beach diet to eating “mindfully,” gluten-free to Oprah’s food rules, I tried it all.
In the meantime, I was becoming more and more accomplished—finishing my education, advancing in my career, creating the family and home I’d always wanted—but I continued to feel like my body was a symbol of failure. (And before you ask, yes, I tried therapy—SO MANY GD YEARS OF THERAPY!)
As the years ticked by and I failed to get my body and my food under control, I got more manic, more panicked, more despondent. How was I going to solve the problem of my body once and for all?!
It was when I resolved to find a different solution for myself, rather than the endless hamster wheel of dieting and “health” obsession, that I discovered coaching. By getting the support I needed, I used my big-ass brain to realize my body was not the enemy, and that being in a decades-long war with it would never bring me what I truly wanted anyway: peace.
From then on, everything began to fall into place.
No more bingeing, no more starving, no more white-knuckling my way through restaurant menus. No more late-night sneaking chocolate chips and tostadas from the cupboards.
No more “being good” on Monday mornings, only to escape into a giant—and I mean giant—bowl of buttery popcorn on Friday night. No more internal (and sometimes external) screaming when discovering my favourite jeans didn’t fit anymore.
My weight and my mind stabilized, and I accessed the peace and confidence that dieting had always promised and always failed to deliver.
The transformation was so profound, I set up my own coaching business to teach other women and non-binary folks about what is possible for them—not just in the kitchen, or the dining room, or cafes and restaurants, but in the rest of their lives, including the board room and the bedroom.
PS: If you’re not quite ready to work with me, use the contact form below to drop me a line!