The Girl Who Learned That Food Was Comfort — And Lost 100lbs Anyway

I didn’t wake up one day and decide to lose 100 pounds.

I grew into it.

My mom always told me I started gaining weight when I started school. She tried to keep me healthy — but she also wanted peace. So when I traded my carrots for raw Mr. Noodles and ate them like a snack, she didn’t fight it.

That was the pattern.

Food was accessible.
Food was soothing.
Food kept everyone calm.

By grade five, I was a size 12.
By grade six, I remember barely fitting into a trampoline park harness while an employee put on special gloves to lift me.
By ten years old, my grandmother was commenting on my weight.

I played sports. I was active. But my cardio was terrible, and no one ever pushed me to get better.

Looking back now — as a behaviour analyst — I understand something I didn’t then:

I learned by exposure.

I learned that after school meant two hours alone with candy and TV.
I learned that after dinner meant more snacks and more TV.
I learned that food regulated emotions.

And I was a kid with ADHD.

I was social but awkward.
My report cards read: “Hard to focus. Likes to talk.”
I wanted people to like me so badly. I just didn’t know how to make that happen.

And somewhere along the way, I decided people didn’t like me because I was fat.

So I turned to the one thing that always felt consistent.

Food.

The Yo-Yo Years

I don’t even remember when I crossed 200lbs — probably high school.

In 2015, I moved out and hired a personal trainer. I lost about 40lbs in a few months. But when I moved back home and old patterns resurfaced, the weight came back — and then some.

By 2016, I was 255lbs.

That’s when I found CrossFit.

I didn’t lose a ton of weight at first. But I felt strong. I ran a 10k. I did a half marathon. I competed. I completed an all-nighter charity workout.

By the end of 2017, I was 240lbs.

Then life happened.

Career stress.
A severe concussion from a car accident.
A job I didn’t enjoy.
Grief watching one of my best friends lose her father.
Government funding shifts that threatened my career.

By June 2019, I was 295lbs.

And then 2021 hit.

COVID. Isolation. Stress.
I reached 307lbs — the highest I’ve ever been.

I even considered weight loss surgery. I tried Ozempic. I was violently ill daily. My body rejected it.

And I finally realized something important:

There is no quick fix that replaces behaviour change.

The Turning Point (That Wasn’t Dramatic)

There wasn’t one big “aha” moment.

There were many small ones.

I moved back home. I lost some weight.
I dated someone. The weight crept back up.
I moved downtown. I joined F45 because it was across the street — removing friction matters more than motivation.

That’s an ADHD lesson.

If it requires too much activation energy, it won’t happen.

I made fitness low effort.

I showed up even when I was grumpy.
(I owe F45 an apology for those first few visits.)

I started building community instead of just chasing a number.

And then I hired a nutrition coach.

That changed everything.

The Formula That Actually Worked

By November 2025, I was 210lbs.
By February, I was 202lbs.
Nearly 100 pounds down from my highest weight.

Here’s the truth:

I didn’t do anything extreme.

  1. I found movement I genuinely enjoy.
  2. I reduced friction so showing up was easy.
  3. I built community so I wasn’t alone.
  4. I hired a coach when I hit my limit.
  5. I followed a simple, repeatable formula.

Was I perfect? Absolutely not.

Do I still self-sabotage sometimes? Yes.

But I don’t spiral anymore.

Because habits compound.

And when you build a new identity slowly — one workout, one meal, one choice at a time — the old behaviours start losing power.

The ADHD Truth About Weight Loss

For those of us with ADHD:

We chase dopamine.
We struggle with delayed gratification.
We default to comfort when overwhelmed.

Weight loss isn’t about discipline.

It’s about:

  • Environment design.
  • Reducing friction.
  • Community accountability.
  • Simple systems.
  • Repetition.

I didn’t lose 100lbs because I suddenly became a different person.

I lost it because I built systems that supported the person I already was.

And Yes — The Demons Still Show Up

The difference now?

I have awareness.
I have support.
I have structure.

And I know that habits are stronger than motivation.

You can change anywhere.
But you have to set yourself up to win.

If you’re reading this thinking:

“I’ve tried everything.”

I promise you haven’t tried everything — you just haven’t tried the right structure yet.

And structure beats willpower every single time.

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