No. I won't refuse you, and I won't shame you for the wish. You didn't invent it; you were handed it, relentlessly, by a culture that made body size feel like a moral report card. Wanting to lose weight in a world like this is one of the most understandable things in the world.

Here's the honest part, so you can decide if we're a fit: this isn't weight-loss work, and I won't prescribe diets, plans, or goal weights because the evidence is clear that intentional weight-loss pursuits tend to backfire, and often leave people more at war with their bodies than when they started. What I can do is stay curious with you about what the wish is really carrying—safety, belonging, control, the hope of finally being treated well—and work toward those directly, in a body you don't have to earn your way into first. Plenty of people arrive wanting to shrink and stay because something better than shrinking turned out to be on offer. You're welcome exactly as you are.

Related cousins, not the same thing. Intuitive eating is a genuinely useful framework, and it lives mostly at the level of food and hunger cues. Body Trust® goes wider and deeper.

Body Trust (developed by the Center for Body Trust) is a weight-inclusive, trauma-informed roadmap for coming home to your body after years of being told it's a problem—reclaiming trust, unpacking the shame, and doing it with a clear eye on the systems that profit from your self-doubt: diet culture, healthism, capitalism, and the rest. So yes, food is part of it, but so are grief, embodiment, nervous-system safety, and the politics of whose bodies get called "good." It's less "learn to eat when you're hungry" and more "learn to live in your body as a whole person in an unjust world." Extra steps, sure, but they're the ones that actually hold.

Absolutely not. And if "love your body!" makes you want to hurl your phone across the room, we're going to get along fine.

Body positivity's demand that you adore your reflection can become one more thing to fail at. Body Trust® doesn't ask that. You can start from neutrality, ambivalence, exhaustion, grief, or outright dislike. The goal isn't forced love, it's trust and peace: being able to inhabit your body without it being a daily battlefield. Some days that looks like respect, some days like a truce, some days just "we're both still here." All of it is a valid place to begin. You don't have to feel a certain way about your body to deserve care in it.

Both, honestly. This work supports people healing from disordered eating and diagnosed eating disorders—restriction, bingeing, the exhausting mental arithmetic around food—as well as folks who've never had a "diagnosis" but have spent decades quietly at odds with their bodies, chasing the next plan, or bracing at the mirror.

One clear boundary, because it matters: eating disorders can be medically serious, and the most acute stages sometimes need a coordinated team—medical, nutritional, and sometimes a higher level of care—beyond what individual therapy alone can safely hold. If that's where you are, I'll be honest with you about it and help you get the right support, alongside or before this work. Wherever you land on that spectrum, we'll start by figuring out what you actually need. If you're in acute crisis, please reach out to a crisis line or the National Alliance for Eating Disorders helpline, and we can talk about next steps together.

I'm based in Camas, Washington, and all of this work happens through telehealth across both Oregon and Washington. So wherever you are in those two states, you can do body-liberation work from your own space.

For this work in particular, telehealth is often a gift: no waiting-room scales, no fluorescent-lit walk of dread, no being weighed or measured on the way in the door. Just you, in an environment you control, doing the slow work of coming home to your body. If you're an Oregon or Washington resident, you're eligible — and there's a free 20-minute consultation to feel out fit before anything begins.