About

My health journey began long before I had the language to explain what was happening to me.

At 17, while my friends were thinking about weekend plans and college applications, I was trying to understand why my body felt out of sync—why my cycles were unpredictable, why my hormones felt chaotic, and why I always had this underlying sense that something wasn't quite right. When the PCOS diagnosis finally came, it was both a relief and a new kind of confusion.

The first solution every doctor offered was birth control—drugs, drugs, and more drugs. With more than 250 types of birth control on the market, I remember wondering how any one doctor was supposed to know which pill was right for me. By the time I was on my fourth prescription and still seeing no improvement, I started doing my own research.

What I found surprised me: countless women talking about how getting off the pill and focusing on food, exercise, and metabolic health had helped them regulate their cycles. It was the first time I realized there might be more to healing than another prescription.

But I was young, overwhelmed, and very focused on appearance. Instead of learning about strength, energy, or nourishment, I started eating less, thinking that was the answer. I didn't understand the science yet—how much my body needed fuel, how nutrition supported hormones, or how movement could build stability instead of adding more stress.

In my early twenties, the picture grew more complicated.

Digestive issues that started as occasional discomfort turned into daily struggles, eventually becoming IBS-C. I was trying to build a life, go to school, work, have fun—and at the same time, my body kept shifting beneath me. I never felt like I could quite catch up.

Then, at 23, more symptoms emerged: sudden blood sugar drops, unpredictable fatigue, and an array of issues that didn't seem to make sense together. Over the next few years, the diagnoses arrived slowly—Hypoglycemic Hyperinsulinemia, Endometriosis, and later, Long COVID. It felt like layers upon layers, each one bringing its own challenges.

Across all of it, one theme stayed the same.

Whether I was sitting in a specialist's office discussing hormones, digestion, blood sugar, or pain, the conversation always circled back to two things: food and movement.

Everyone agreed they were important, but no one taught me how to actually make them work together in a way that was sustainable—or how to reconcile recommendations for multiple conditions that often seemed to contradict one another.

Before we realized my blood sugar crashes were caused by excessive insulin release, my diet was basically candy—literally just trying to keep myself from fainting. It completely contradicted everything I was being told to do for my hormones. Every recommendation seemed to fix one problem while worsening another.

Learning to navigate that chaos forced me to take ownership of my health in a deeper way.

I stopped chasing quick fixes and began building a foundation—a way of eating, moving, and supporting my body that made sense for my own biology. It took time, patience, education, and plenty of trial and error, but it showed me how powerful the basics can be when they're aligned with your physiology instead of conflicting advice.

And eventually, understanding those basics became more than something I needed for myself. It became the foundation of the work I wanted to do for others.

A New Chapter: Fertility, Loss & Coming Back to Myself

Over the past year, that philosophy has taken on an entirely new meaning.

My own fertility journey has challenged me in ways I could never have anticipated. Pregnancy, loss, grief, recovery, and the continued hope of growing our family have changed not only the way I see my body, but the way I practice nutrition and the direction I want to take this business.

For years, health could easily become another thing to achieve—the right macros, the right workout, the right weight, the right routine.

Fertility forced me to look at health differently.

I began asking less, “How can I make my body look or perform a certain way?” and more, “What does my body need from me right now?”

That question has brought me back to so many of the things I encourage my own clients to practice: eating enough, prioritizing protein and nutrient-dense foods, building strength, walking, sleeping, managing stress, supporting metabolic and hormonal health, and allowing consistency to matter more than perfection.

And perhaps most importantly, learning when to give myself grace.

In many ways, I have become my own client again.

I've had to practice what I preach—not when life is easy and everything is going according to plan, but when it isn't. I've had to learn how to nourish a body I haven't always understood, trust a body I've sometimes felt betrayed by, and care for myself without turning health into another source of pressure.

This season has changed my business because it has changed my definition of wellness.

I want Finely Balanced Nutrition to represent more than nutrition on paper. I want it to reflect what I am actively working toward in my own life: a place of self, peace, strength, and sustainable health.

Not because I'm trying to create a “perfect” body or follow a perfect routine, but because I want to give myself the strongest foundation I can for my future fertility, my future children, and the life I hope to build with them.

I don't believe practicing what you preach means having everything figured out.

I think it means being willing to return to the same foundations you ask others to trust—even when life becomes complicated.

Right now, I am doing exactly that.

Why I Do This

This journey is why I do what I do now.

No one should have to figure all of this out alone or feel lost in a body that refuses to follow the rules. I know what it's like to receive conflicting advice, to feel like you're doing everything “right” and still not feel well, and to wonder which version of healthy you're supposed to be chasing.

I learned how to find balance in a system that rarely made it easy—and I am still living that process myself.

That's what I want to offer my clients.

My goal isn't to hand someone another rigid set of rules. It's to help them understand their body, nourish it well, and create realistic habits that can carry them through changing seasons of life. It's about finding a way of eating and living that supports your health without requiring your entire life to revolve around being healthy.

Because to me, being Finely Balanced has never meant being perfect.

It means learning how to come back to yourself.