Here’s the fix I’ve been leaning on for months: frittata. One bake, four days of breakfasts (or snacks), and it takes eggs from “rushed and boring” to something I actually look forward to.

Why this matters:

• Eating within about an hour to 90 minutes of waking helps steady blood sugar and supports hormone balance — especially for women, since it keeps cortisol from spiking unchecked

• Eggs are a complete protein (all nine essential amino acids) and one of the best natural sources of choline, which is essential for brain health

• A frittata is a softer, easier bite than three boiled eggs at 7am — and it travels

Why I Meal Prep This Every Week

Some mornings, I don’t want to down three boiled eggs before running out the door. A frittata solves that. It’s satisfying, portable, and keeps beautifully in the fridge — which means one Sunday bake covers most of my week.

And here’s the part I want you to actually take with you: this isn’t a recipe you need to follow exactly. It’s a formula — eggs, cheese, whatever veggies and herbs you have on hand. Once the base clicks, it becomes a ritual, not a chore.

This Week’s Version

(swap freely — I’ve also done blistered tomato + ricotta and loved it just as much)

You’ll need:

• 8 eggs (+ extra egg whites if you have them, for a protein boost)

• ~100g Parmesan, grated (save some for the top)

• ~50g goat feta, crumbled

• 1 zucchini, thinly sliced

• A handful of fresh herbs, chopped

• Zest + juice of half a lemon

• Salt, pepper, oil of choice

How to make it:

1. Preheat oven to 185°C (365°F), fan on.

2. Toss sliced zucchini with oil, roast 15–20 min until softened (no need to crisp).

3. Beat eggs with salt, pepper, most of the Parmesan, lemon zest + juice.

4. Line a 10cm x 20cm tin with baking paper.

5. Pour in eggs, layer on herbs + zucchini + crumbled goat feta, top with remaining Parmesan.

6. Bake 35 min at 185°C, fan on.

7. Cool completely before slicing into 4.

Storage: Wrap tightly in foil or store airtight with paper towel between layers. Good in the fridge for about 4 days.

Make It Yours

The whole point is flexibility — leek instead of zucchini, ricotta instead of goat feta, whatever’s in your crisper drawer. Once you make it once, you’ll start improvising without a recipe at all.

💬 Your turn: what’s your favorite frittata flavor combo? Reply in the comments — I read every one, and I’m always hunting for my next variation.

If this saved you from a rushed, skipped breakfast this week, forward it to a friend who needs a better morning too.

For years my period was the same miserable routine every single month. Painkillers on standby, cravings that made me want to demolish any and every chocolate bar that was present and just a few days where I just felt I had to mentally push through.

A year ago I found cycle syncing, and it genuinely changed everything.

So now, some months I don’t even real…

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Every wellness journey has a chapter where you find the thing that works. Mine was low carb.

For me, that chapter came with real stakes attached — I’ve dealt with insulin resistance, PMOS, and prediabetes. Not abstract labels, but blood work, symptoms, and a body that was clearly asking for a different approach to food. So when I found my way to low carb, it wasn’t a trend I was chasing. It was a genuine turning point.

But the full story has a twist I didn’t expect — and it’s the part I think is actually the most useful to share.

Where I started

Insulin resistance, PMOS, and prediabetes tend to travel together, and if you’ve lived with any of them, you know the frustrating loop: elevated insulin makes it harder for your cells to respond to insulin, which drives cravings, energy crashes, weight that won’t budge no matter what you try, and — for a lot of us — skin that breaks out along hormonal lines. It’s a metabolic and hormonal knot, not just a “watch your sugar” issue.

Why low carb, specifically

This part is genuinely well supported. Lowering carbohydrate intake — especially refined, high-glycemic carbs — is one of the more consistently evidence-backed dietary levers for improving insulin sensitivity, and it shows up clearly in PCOS research too: structured low-carb approaches have been shown to lower fasting insulin and improve markers of insulin resistance, and even shift androgen markers in a favorable direction for many women with PMOS.

So I built my foundation there. Not a fad, not extreme — just whole, minimally processed food, with my carbohydrates coming from real sources: fruit, legumes, potatoes, oats, whole grains. Alongside plenty of protein, healthy fats, and fiber. It felt sustainable. It felt like me.

Then I got curious about going further

Somewhere along the way, I started wondering: if low carb was working, would lower work even better? So I experimented — dropping carbs close to zero and leaning heavily into healthy fats. Essentially, keto, though I never formally tracked ketones or macros. I was going by feel.

And for a while, the feel was incredible. No brain fog. No energy dips. No cravings pulling me around. I felt sharp, steady, in control of my appetite in a way I hadn’t before. It’s easy to see why so many people fall in love with this way of eating — because in that window, I did too.

Then the acne came back

A few months in, I started breaking out again. Not surface-level stuff — deep, painful, cystic acne concentrated along my jawline. The kind that’s hard to ignore and even harder not to spiral about.

I did what I always do: I tried to rule things out. Stress levels, sleep, skincare, products, cycle timing. Once I’d worked through the usual suspects, one variable kept standing out as different from my baseline: I was eating close to zero carbohydrates, consistently, for months.

I want to be careful here, because I can’t run a controlled experiment on my own hormones — this is a suspicion based on elimination, not a diagnosis. But it lined up too clearly to ignore, and it sent me looking into what the research actually says.

What the research says (and why it’s genuinely nuanced)

Here’s where it gets interesting — because the research on very low carb and hormonal skin is not a simple “keto causes acne” story. It genuinely cuts both ways, and I think that’s the actual finding worth sitting with.

The pathway I believe played out in my body: carbohydrate restriction doesn’t just lower insulin — it can also raise cortisol, especially in the earlier weeks and months. Research on low-carb diets shows resting cortisol climbing during carb restriction, and separately, studies on ketogenic diets specifically show activation of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis — the system that governs your body’s stress response. Even when everything on the surface feels calm (and mine did — I felt great), very low glucose availability can register to the body as a stressor.

That matters for skin because cortisol and adrenal androgen production are linked. Under HPA-axis activation, the adrenal glands become a source of androgens like DHEA-S — separate from the ovarian androgens more commonly associated with PCOS. And dermatology research is specific about where this pattern shows up: the jawline and lower face carry a higher concentration of androgen receptors than skin elsewhere, which is exactly why adrenal-androgen-driven breakouts cluster there. My jawline. My pattern. It fits.

The other side of the coin — and why I’m sharing it anyway: other research points in the completely opposite direction. Several studies, including a ketogenic diet trial specifically in women with acne, show carb restriction lowering insulin and IGF-1, which raises sex hormone-binding globulin (SHBG) — the protein that “mops up” free testosterone in the blood. Less free testosterone circulating generally means less androgen-driven sebum production. On paper, that should mean less acne, not more — and for a lot of people, especially those whose acne runs primarily through the insulin pathway rather than the adrenal one, that’s exactly what happens. Keto has genuinely cleared skin for some women.

Both of these are real, published findings. Neither one is “wrong.” And that’s exactly the point I want to make: the same intervention, near-zero carbohydrates, can move through two entirely different hormonal pathways depending on the person — one calming androgen production, one activating it. Which pathway shows up for you likely depends on your individual stress-response tendencies, your hormonal history (adrenal androgen sensitivity especially), your baseline cortisol patterns, and how long and how extreme the restriction is. There is no version of “the research says keto does X to hormones” that’s true for every body — because bio-individuality isn’t a wellness buzzword, it’s what’s actually sitting underneath these two contradictory sets of findings.

Where I’ve landed — for now

I’ve since shifted from “as low as possible” to intentional, structured carbohydrate inclusion at most meals — not tracked, not rigid, just present.

Breakfast is still where I feel best going lighter on starchy carbs: fiber, protein, healthy fats, color, and natural sweetness from fruit. That combination has consistently made me feel clear and steady, so I’ve kept it.

Lunch and dinner now include a real, separate serving of complex carbohydrates — oats, potatoes, legumes, whole grains — instead of trace amounts folded into a vegetable side.

I’m not tracking grams. I’m reintroducing slowly, paying attention, and adjusting as I go. It’s less a “reintroduction protocol” and more a recalibration — finding the version of low carb that supports my hormones instead of quietly working against one part of them while helping another.

The actual lesson here

If there’s one thing I want you to take from this, it’s not “avoid keto” or “always eat this many carbs.” It’s this:

There is no one perfect diet. No single meal philosophy that works identically for every body — not even for two people with the same diagnosis.

What genuinely moved things for me wasn’t finding the “right” protocol. It was turning inward — learning to actually hear what my body was telling me, layering that alongside science-backed practices (and ideally, a practitioner who can help you interpret your own labs and patterns, not just prescribe a plan) instead of treating research as a rulebook to follow blindly.

Copy-pasting what worked for someone else — even someone with your exact diagnosis — isn’t a shortcut. Health isn’t apply-all. There isn’t a shortcut, full stop. You have to sit with yourself, notice the cues your body is sending, adjust, and keep adjusting, until you find the version of balance that actually lets your body thrive.

That’s not a protocol. That’s a practice. And I’m still very much in it.

This reflects my personal experience and isn’t medical advice — if you’re navigating insulin resistance, PMOS, or hormonal acne, I’d always encourage working alongside a practitioner who can look at your individual history.

So I’ve been developing a whole collection of desserts sweetened only with dates — real s…

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I was 24 when a doctor told me I was on my way to becoming diabetic. There wasn’t much conversation — just a diagnosis, a prescription, and that was it. No one asked why this was happening to someone my age, or what I could actually do about it. I just remember thinking: there has to be more to this than a pill.

That moment is where my coaching practice actually begins.

Thirteen and Already at War With My Body

Like a lot of women, I learned to see my body as a problem to solve long before I understood what that meant. Around age 13, I absorbed the message so many of us do — that smaller was better, that thinness was the goal — and I took matters into my own hands. I started restricting.

For a while, it “worked.” I lost weight. I felt a rush of control. But bodies aren’t built to run on deprivation forever, and mine eventually pushed back the only way it knew how: I’d restrict for a stretch, then swing hard into bingeing, eating everything I’d been denying myself. For a few years, this felt — strangely — manageable. Almost like a system.

It wasn’t. Over time, the pattern stopped being something I was doing to my body and became something that was doing something to me. It got more chaotic, more emotional, harder to predict or interrupt. My weight fluctuated. My skin suffered. I felt increasingly disconnected from myself.

By 24, that disconnect had a name: insulin resistance, and the early warning signs of type 2 diabetes. This is the exact point where most of my clients’ stories start too — so I want to walk through what happened next, and why it shaped the way I coach.

When “The System” Offers a Prescription But No Explanation

Here’s what nobody tells you about getting a diagnosis like that in your mid-20s: you leave with a medication plan and pretty much zero insight into why it happened or what you can do about it.

I went from specialist to specialist. Same pattern every time — tests, a diagnosis, a prescription, a goodbye. Nobody asked about my relationship with food, my stress, my sleep, or the years-long tug-of-war I’d been having with my own body. Along the way, I was also diagnosed with what’s now called PMOS — Polyendocrine Metabolic Ovarian Syndrome, recently renamed from PCOS to reflect what specialists have long known: it isn’t just a reproductive issue, it’s a full-body metabolic and hormonal condition. At the time, though, I wasn’t treated like a whole person. I was treated like a set of lab values.

So I did what a lot of us end up doing when the system doesn’t have an answer: I went looking for one myself. That search — for what actually worked, for someone who could look at me as a whole person — is what eventually became my job.

Ten Years, One Slow Rebuild

What followed wasn’t a 30-day reset or a clean before-and-after. It was — and honestly still is — a decade-long process of therapy, self-study, and rebuilding my relationship with my body from the ground up. Physically, mentally, and spiritually too. This is also, in a very real sense, my coaching curriculum — everything I now walk clients through, I lived first.

The biggest shift wasn’t a diet change. It was realizing that punishing my body had never once made me healthier — it had just kept me stuck in a cycle. Real change started when I got curious instead of controlling: sitting with the uncomfortable feelings instead of eating around them, and slowly learning to trust myself again.

I also came to understand something that took me years to fully believe, and that now sits at the center of how I coach: health isn’t one-size-fits-all. Our bodies are bio-individual — what works brilliantly for one woman can do very little for another. And yet most of us are drinking from the same firehose of conflicting advice from influencers, brands, and ads, all shouting different versions of “the answer.” No wonder so many women feel more lost than when they started.

The real answer, for me, turned out to be quieter: tune inward, and anchor that intuition in what’s actually evidence-based. Both matter. Intuition without information can lead you astray; information without self-trust just becomes another rulebook. That’s the exact balance I try to help my clients find.

The things that actually moved the needle for me are, encouragingly, well-supported by research:

• Whole, minimally processed food with real variety — not restriction

• Sunlight and time outdoors, which support everything from sleep to mood

• A regulated nervous system — this one is underrated and enormous

• Genuinely restful sleep, not just hours logged

• Connection — people, community, feeling less alone in it

• Movement that feels good in your body that day, not a punishment routine

• Paying attention to how I feel across the month — the research on strictly “syncing” diet and exercise to cycle phases is still mixed, but noticing your own patterns of energy and appetite is worth doing regardless

And maybe most important: there’s no finish line. There’s no day you “arrive” at health and get to stop paying attention. It’s an ongoing relationship — one you keep choosing, with compassion instead of punishment. That mindset shift is usually where I start with a new client, before we even talk about food.

Why I Coach Women Now

Somewhere in the middle of all this, a question kept surfacing: how many other women are sitting in that same doctor’s office, getting a diagnosis and a prescription and nothing else?

Too many. And it didn’t have to stay that way. That question is the actual origin story of my practice — combining my lived experience with science-backed knowledge, wrapped in the kind of empathy that was missing from every specialist’s office I sat in.

When I work with women now, we don’t just look at what’s on the plate. We look at the whole picture: how they move, how they sleep, their relationships, their work life, their nervous system, their actual day-to-day life — not some idealized version of it. Together, we build something sustainable, rooted in their preferences and reality, not a crash-diet script that works for six weeks and then falls apart.

I believe we already carry an innate sense of what’s right for us — it just gets buried under years of noise. My job isn’t to hand you a plan and disappear. It’s to help you hear that knowing again, and stay with you while you rebuild it. That’s the whole job, really — and it’s the job I built out of my own decade of figuring it out.

If any part of my story sounds familiar, I want you to know: it’s possible to find your way back. It took me ten years and I’m still on the path. But it’s absolutely possible — and it’s exactly why I do this work.

If you’re curious about working together, hit reply — I’d love to hear your story too.

Specifically, a deeply dark chocolate mousse — rich, intense, slightly bitter, and finished with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and a sprinkle of flaky sea salt. It is one of those combinations that works all year round. In summer, it feels luxurious and simple; in winter, it feels comforting an…

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At the same time, I care deeply about my hormones and blood sugar balance. Over the years, I’ve dealt with things like PCOS, insulin resistance, and cystic acne, which taught me very quickly that what I eat genuinely impacts how I feel, my energy, my skin, my…

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I’ve always believed that food should taste really good. Not just “healthy-good,” but the kind of good that makes you pause after the first bite. And to me, that doesn’t come from restriction — it comes from using real, wholesome ingredients and letting them shine. This is something I come back to again and again in my kitchen, especially when my sweet tooth kicks in (which, let’s be honest, is often… but particularly at certain times of the month).

So I experiment. A lot.

This lemon poppy seed loaf is one of those creations that I now make on repeat. It’s dense yet fluffy, perfectly moist, and just sweet enough — with that bright, zesty lemon flavor cutting through in the best way. It’s completely gluten-free, made with almond flour, and holds up beautifully for days, making it ideal for meal prep or slow, cozy mornings.

Lemon Poppy Seed Almond Flour Loaf

Maple-sweetened · Dense-but-fluffy · Flow-over style 🍋

Ingredients

Dry

• •3 cups almond flour (finely ground, blanched)

• •2½ tbsp poppy seeds

• •1¼ tsp baking powder

• •¾ tsp baking soda

• •¼ tsp sea salt

• •2 tbsp arrowroot or tapioca starch (important for structure)

Wet

• •5 large eggs, room temperature

• •½ cup pure maple syrup (not pancake syrup)

• •½ cup olive oil or melted coconut oil

• •Zest of 2–3 lemons

• •½ cup fresh lemon juice

• •1 tsp vanilla extract

• •1 tbsp apple cider vinegar

Method

Preheat your oven to 170°C (340°F). Line a loaf tin with parchment paper, letting it come slightly above the rim — you’ll need this for that beautiful “flow-over” finish.

In a medium bowl, mix all dry ingredients thoroughly.

In a larger bowl, whisk the eggs well for about 30–45 seconds, until slightly airy.

Add the maple syrup, oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, vanilla extract, and apple cider vinegar. Whisk until smooth and glossy.

Gently fold the dry ingredients into the wet mixture until just combined. The batter should be thick, glossy, and slow-pouring.

Pour the batter into your prepared tin, filling it about 90–95% full. Do not tap the tin — this helps keep the texture light.

(Optional bakery trick): Run a thin line of oil down the center of the batter to guide that natural crack on top.

Bake for 45–55 minutes.

Around the 30-minute mark, loosely tent with foil if the top is getting deeply golden.

It’s ready when the top is domed, cracked, and springy in the center.

Let it cool in the tin for 25–30 minutes before carefully lifting it out.

To Serve

This loaf is beautiful on its own, but if you want to take it to the next level, I highly recommend serving it with strained full-fat yogurt — think of something similar to labneh, just without the salt.

It adds the most incredible creaminess and balances the citrus perfectly. You can drizzle a little maple syrup over the top if you’re in the mood for something extra sweet and indulgent.

Storage & Meal Prep

Keeps well in the fridge for several days, wrapped in foil to maintain moisture

Slice and wrap individually for easy grab-and-go pieces

Freezes beautifully — just warm up when you’re ready to enjoy

This is one of those recipes that proves you really don’t have to choose between nourishing and delicious. You can have both — every single time.

And once you make it, it might just become part of your weekly ritual too.

If you’ve spent any time in wellness spaces lately, you’ve probably heard about seed cycling (or seed syncing). It’s one of those practices that sounds simple, slightly niche, and at the same time… intriguing. So let’s break it down in a very non-intimidating way.

Seed cycling is based around four seeds: pumpkin & flax, and sesame & sunflower. The idea is to eat pumpkin and flax during the first half of your cycle, and sesame and sunflower during the second half. It’s believed that these seeds, thanks to their specific nutrient profiles, may help gently support hormone balance throughout the cycle and potentially ease PMS-related symptoms.

Now — I want to be very transparent here. This is still a relatively new practice and research is limited. That said, for me personally, anything that is completely natural, nourishing, and has the potential to improve how I feel and experience my cycle is something I’m open to trying. Worst case? I’m eating more whole foods that are genuinely good for my body.

That’s why I decided to give seed cycling a go.

My experience so far 🌿

I started seed cycling around February last year, so it’s been almost a full year now. And I won’t lie — at first, it felt a bit annoying. The recommended amount is one tablespoon of each seed per day, which is actually quite a lot. It’s not something you can just casually sprinkle once and be done with.

In summer, it’s easier. You throw seeds on salads, bowls, yoghurt, whatever.

But in winter? Honestly, I hibernate on soups and hearty meals that don’t really scream “add seeds here”.

So I got creative. I sprinkled them on eggs. On bananas with nut butter so they’d stick. I made it work. But when I was on the go, it became inconvenient — because realistically, you’re not carrying a little seed jar everywhere.

And then there’s another very important factor: 👉 I have a massive sweet tooth.

I almost always want something sweet after lunch or dinner, and I try to make sure I have healthier dessert alternatives ready. That’s when the idea clicked:

What if I could combine my daily seeds with something sweet — and measure it properly so I know I’m actually getting the right amount?

And that’s how this recipe was born.

Why this seed cycling chocolate treat works so well

This little chocolate treat is:

• Easy to meal prep

• Precisely portioned so you know you’re getting the right amount of seeds

• Perfect to take on the go

• And genuinely delicious

The portions turned out quite generous, so I usually cut one in half — half with lunch, half with dinner — and I’m sorted for the day. It makes staying consistent with seed cycling effortless, which honestly is half the battle.

And on top of that, every single ingredient here is a bit of a nutrient powerhouse:

• Cacao powder → rich in antioxidants, supports mood, contains magnesium

• Almond flour → high in vitamin E (great for skin), healthy fats, and minerals

• Dates → fibre-rich, support digestion, provide natural sweetness and minerals

• Dark chocolate (85%) → antioxidants, magnesium, gentle energy boost

• Sesame & sunflower seeds → healthy fats, minerals, and compounds that may support hormonal balance

For me, this is a true win-win: something sweet I look forward to eating, while also supporting my body and staying consistent with a practice I’ve been enjoying.

Seed Cycling Chocolate Treats

Ingredients

• 150 g dates

• 90 g almond flour

• 20 g cacao powder

• 64 g sesame seeds

• 64 g sunflower seeds

• 120 g dark chocolate (85%)

Method

• Soak the dates

Place the dates in a bowl and cover them with boiling water. Let them soak for about 5 minutes to soften, then drain.

• Blend the base

Add the soaked dates, almond flour, cacao powder, sesame seeds, and sunflower seeds to a food processor. Blend until the mixture starts to come together into a dough. You can stop and check — it should hold together when pressed.

• Weigh and portion

Weigh the dough. In my case, it came to 400 g total. I made this batch for 8 days, so I divided the dough into 8 equal portions and rolled each into a smooth ball.

• Freeze briefly

Place the balls on a tray and put them in the freezer for 10–15 minutes to firm up.

• Melt the chocolate

Melt the dark chocolate in the microwave in 30-second intervals, stirring in between so it doesn’t burn.

• Coat the balls

Dip each chilled ball into the melted chocolate, making sure it’s evenly coated. Place them back on the tray.

• Set & store

Transfer to the fridge for at least 20 minutes until fully set.

Storage tip

Store the chocolate treats in an airtight container, with a paper towel at the bottom and another on top. This helps absorb any condensation and keeps them fresh.

They stay great for the full 8 days.

If you try these, I’d love to hear what you think — and if you’re seed cycling too, how you’re finding it.

Sometimes the most supportive habits are the ones that feel easy, nourishing, and enjoyable 🤍

Enjoy ✨