Hi there!
My name is Michelle and I’m so happy you’re here!
I’m a foodie who learned the hard way how important nutrition is. I’m passionate about helping people understand the healing power of real food and I could go on and on dispelling the nutrition dogma we’ve been sold for decades. Hint: It’s almost all B.S.
I spent years thinking that reducing the fat on my plate would reduce the fat on my body. I spent even longer viewing exercise as a way to burn off the vodka sodas and subsequent cheese fries from the night before. We’ve all been there, right? But my perception of health became so skewed that I wouldn’t eat anything if it didn’t have label. Calories in calories out ruled my life and soon enough, MyFitnessPal became my only pal. I was obsessed with restriction and my self-worth came from staying under my calorie allotment for the day. I really hope we haven’t all been there.
As terrible as this time was for me, it brought me to where I am today. It gave me a better understanding of myself and my body. And it gave me to ability to help so many people achieve their health goals the right way.
I don’t believe in counting calories.
I don’t believe in IIFYM.
I don’t believe in fad diets.
I definitely don’t believe in low-fat anything.
I don’t believe in health claims.
And I don’t believe exercise is a punishment for eating.
Here’s what I know to be true: real food is the simplest and most powerful tool we have to reach better health and wellness. But this can be incredibly daunting if you’re anything like the Michelle from years past. Trust me, I get it.
But I promise there’s a better life on the other side some real f*cking food.
My Story
Like most 90s babies, I grew up eating fruit roll-ups, pop-tarts, and cinnamon toast crunch. Cookie dough ice cream was a staple and I loved bacon as much as I loved donuts. And if you knew me anywhere from 1995-2016, you know how much I loved donuts. Just to really hit that point home, I’m the kid on the left who posed with her donut for the annual neighborhood picture.
A few years and many donuts later, my parents sent me to summer camp at the Boulder humane society. Yes. Boulder, Colorado – my hometown and the hippie mecca of the world. I was convinced I’d come home from camp with another dog. They were convinced I’d realize how much work another pet would be and I’d drop the subject. Instead, I came home with a recalibrated moral compass and some Boca Burgers after the camp counselors screened anti-meat propaganda videos. The next twelve years were spent eating pasta, soy products, and microwavable bean burritos.
It wasn’t that I thought vegetarianism was the peak of health, though I’d convince myself of that down the line. My decision to stop eating meat was 100% on moral grounds. I was staunchly against the violence perpetrated at factory farms. What I didn’t realize was that my moral pursuit was at great cost to my health. I was slowly but surely tanking my natural hormone production with my excessive consumption of soy products and years of hormonal birth control. I was the first of my friends to get my period, which happened to be less than a year after my transition to vegetarianism. Coincidence? Probably not. My hormonal battles continued through high school with very painful menstrual cycles and even a benign breast tumor I discovered when I was 20.
I didn’t believe my mission to save the cows could have any influence on my personal health. Until it did. And soon after my breast tumor was removed, I decided I could never again take my health for granted. Spoiler: I did.
Around that same time, I signed up for my first gym membership. And after accidentally farting on my trainer during the free session, I bought 24 more sessions because I was embarrassed. Then I went home and probably ate some beans. I learned to love fitness and what I thought was healthy eating. Still a vegetarian, but less tofurkey, so I guess that’s a win.
I started to see the changes in my body I always dreamed of. I was lean, I was strong, and I had never felt so good. For a couple years, this worked really well for me. But I soon became a little too into controlling my physical body by controlling what I was eating. I was totally obsessed with counting my macros and hitting them perfectly (or staying under them) every day. I was eating egg whites and protein powder at basically every meal because our modern foodscape led me to believe fat would kill me. My job at the time led me to believe carbs would kill me. What’s a girl to do?
It was at this time that I started eating meat again. Only fish. Then only chicken and fish. Then chicken, fish and turkey (because turkeys are basically just big chickens and it was Thanksgiving). This change was entirely in pursuit of achieving the bikini model physique I desired. Not in pursuit of health. Thus, it wasn’t sustainable.
I was scrolling through Instagram one night, literally looking at pictures of the foods I didn’t allow myself to eat, and discovered the Whole 30. I don’t quite know what came over me, but I jumped on board and started the next day. I knew my relationship with food was broken and maybe, just maybe, food could fix it. Real food, that is. In just 30 days, I completely transformed my life. I got my control back. I got my love for food back. And I got myself back.
I now eat a mostly paleo diet because I’ve found that’s what works best for me and my toilet. I eat a helluva lotta salmon, kale, chili, meatballs, roasted squash, homemade mayo, and BUTTER. I genuinely love salads, I couldn’t live without my crock pot, and the only real way to eat dinner is in front of a hockey game. If you’re into real food, nutrition jargon, or the happenings of a true hot mess, I hope you stick around! And if you’ve read this entire page, you’re a true champ. Cheers to you!
<3
Michelle