I’m not sure my colleagues at theguardian.com, or my university communications roles, or when I worked in theatre production, would have nailed me as a Type A personality either – but that ultra-self-controlling, super-organised portrait isn’t the only way perfectionism shows up. 

Perfectionism is the feeling that nothing you do, is good enough for you. 

I wouldn’t have said I was perfectionist, because I worked hastily, hated double checking things, and was always 5 or 10 minutes late.

But the truth was, there was a perfectionist streak: I couldn’t digest any of my accomplishments, and I couldn’t go to bed ever feeling like I’d used my time well.

You see, it wasn’t until I discovered that my binge eating and overeating were side-effects of the try-hard, hustle-culture way I had created success, that I truly tackled my eating and overconsumption problems.

I grew up thinking I could do and become whatever I wanted, if I worked hard enough, right? I was ambitious, and I  had crazy high expectations of myself.

Even in creativity. I wanted to stage plays, create puppets, carve a statue, weld a crown, make a jelly armchair that’d be exhibited at Tate Modern. My brain was on fire. 

So why did I have all this private, shameful failure around food? Why was I binge eating, overeating?

I’d solved binge eating by my 20s, but I still hadn’t finished with food struggle.

What would it take for you to finish with your food battle and get on with your life?

In my 30s, I was doing a high-adrenaline job, and still eating emotionally – to procrastinate, to reward myself, to be a bit rock n’ roll and let loose.

So I couldn’t walk away from my former bingeing and call it ‘done’. I knew there was more to discover in my eating, and set out to understand overeating from a new perspective.

There’s a lot of talk about ‘diet culture’ and how we rein ourselves in, and how that affects our eating psychology. 

What’s unique about my work as a coach is that I have studied the flipside – how we push ourselves, and set ourselves crazy high expectations. 

I’m here to help you understand that how we do food, and our work ethic, are inextricably linked. 

And that there’s another way. A way better suited to creatives and focus-flitting neurotypes. A way which USES that creativity and gives deep experiences of focus, flow and embodied sensations.