Hi, I’m Nikki

I decided to become a Nutritionist after fighting my own battles with eating disorders. For many years I struggled with my relationship with food, not feeling good in (or about) my body, and having an unhealthy relationship with exercise.

Women are subjected to unrealistic body standards from a young age. I remember being hyper aware of my body since I was 9 years old. That’s when I discovered what dieting was, and that certain body types and shapes were celebrated more than others in our Western society. Moving into my teenage years, I began calorie counting, weighing my food, and constantly analyzing my body. I even carried around a sewing tape measure to monitor the circumference of my waist, arms, and legs (furthering the self-loathing and shame). My fixation with becoming smaller lasted well into my twenties. By then, I was barely eating, using exercise as punishment, and spiralling into fear and anxiety around food. Going out for lunch or dinner was overwhelming. If I couldn’t control the menu, I couldn’t control the calories—and that lack of control terrified me. I began to self-isolate and go deeper into my disordered eating patterns. Food became the enemy, something to be feared, and certainly wasn’t a source of nourishment or joy. I stopped menstruating, I was cold and irritable, and my energy levels were at an all-time low.

At the peak of my eating disorder, I began studying alternative medicine with a focus on holistic nutrition. My education sprouted from a personal mission to heal myself. I was desperate for relief—desperate to finally understand my body and make peace with food. But through that process, something unexpected happened: I discovered that this work wasn’t just for me. I felt a deep calling to help others reconnect to their bodies, repair their relationship with food, and approach health from a place of compassion, not control. While in school, I learned about the fascinating biology of the human body. I developed a deep appreciation for how my body functioned. A newfound awe, that simply being alive in a body was quite miraculous. I shifted my focus from what I looked like on the outside to how I felt on the inside. I started to pay attention and become aware of what my body was telling me it needed, knowing now the various ways the body can communicate with us. And from that place, I could begin healing the wounds that were created in my younger years.

I took a summer off school and spent several months on a remote island in Northern British Columbia. I consciously separated myself from all outside distractions and temptations for self-comparison. I could no longer keep up with all of it. The years I spent hating myself were accumulating, becoming unbearable. In the coastal wilderness of my island, I dove inward. I allowed myself to relish in the magic of simply being alive, reformatting my values. I let go of it all. I released the expectations I had for the way I was “supposed to look”. I gave up punishing myself for not adhering to rigid rules and expectations. I fully and completely surrendered. Slowly and with profound trust, I found love for myself again. Self-comparison transformed into self-compassion. I started feeding myself. Food became a source of nourishment and joy. Sharing meals with others now produced a sense of belonging and community.