My Story

It took me years to figure out how to lose fat the right way & I don’t want that same ball-ache of a journey for you...

I made all the mistakes so you don’t have to.

The one with weight watchers

I've struggled with my weight and body image for over 20 years. I went from joining Weight Watchers at 12 (unofficially, using a journal my friend "borrowed" from her mum) to trying every diet plan, app and tracker in existence.

With each attempt, I'd tell myself that this was the diet that would change my life but it never was. I knew what to do and I'd start off great, but I struggled to stick to it.

(Gosh, there's nothing quite like being publicly weighed and shamed in a room full of strangers is there?)

The more I failed, the more I believed I’d never achieve it. Every abandoned diet felt like more proof I’d never get there.

I was very all-or-nothing. Every occasion was ruined not only by the way I felt in my body, but by the frustration of not being 'allowed' what I actually wanted to eat.

After years of this cycle, I started to shrink my life to match: hiding in dark, baggy clothes, avoiding social occasions, never wanting to be in photos. I erased myself from my own life because of how uncomfortable I felt.

The one with Wii Fit

I didn’t grow up sporty but I tried.

I went swimming, tried teen cardio classes, even went for a jog with my dad but got a stitch about 10ft from our front door (we went home).

Exercise was effort I couldn't be arsed to make.

It made me hot, sweaty and uncomfortable. PE was a nightmare and I was always the red-faced chubby kid in the photos at someone’s rollerskating-themed birthday party.

I did love dance until someone told me I was too fat for it…

Exercise was never something I associated with fun or confidence, it felt like punishment. Forcing myself through my mum's Rosemary Conley aerobic videos or dicking about on Wii Fit was the most I was prepared to do.

It wasn’t until my mid-20s that I started to learn more about food and exercise in a different way. I started learning about actual nutrition and trying to teach myself what to do at the gym (it took YEARS)

Even becoming a PT didn't work

I loved it so much I qualified as a nutritionist and personal trainer because I was so excited about the idea of helping others discover a new way to lose weight that didn't involve counting made up points or crying over the scales like I did.

I also thought having a certificate would ‘fix’ my own weight loss struggles.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

I did see some results but I couldn't maintain them. It turns out knowledge alone isn't enough. Life happened, and shockingly doing a course or two doesn’t magically undo 20+ years of poor habits, beliefs and an awful relationship with food and exercise. Who knew?! Apparently, not me.

The one where it finally clicked

I yo-yo’d for years. I knew what to do, but even when I was trying my best, I just couldn’t do it consistently.

I hired 1:1 coaches, joined fantastic programmes, subscribed to workout apps and while I learned loads, I still didn’t get anywhere.

Whenever I joined something, I’d either get lost in the crowd or the 1:1 support just wasn’t at the level I needed. I’d end up back on my own and the only number going down through all of this was my bank balance.

After I kept tweaking things, trying, then trying again, it finally started to fall into place. I built a routine and fat loss approach that worked for ME.

I did then find an amazing group programme that was perfect for me, but it also reminded me of why I started coaching in the first place because if you're trying to lose fat as a newbie to fitness, it's still really intimidating and unless you've been through that like I have, it's hard to understand how challenging it is.

I’ve always wanted to create a safe space for people to lose fat in a way that fits their life — without punishment, guilt, or missing out on fun foods. A space where beginners can learn to exercise at their own level and build confidence slowly.

That’s why I built Snack & Thrive: the kind of supportive, shame-free space I wish had existed for me.