In my early twenties I was a textbook overthinker. I would weigh oats, log every almond, and still feel like my body was failing me. I had the degree. I had the meal plans. None of it made me well.
What finally helped was slower. A meal that wasn't a project. A morning that wasn't a routine. A relationship with food that left room for being a woman — for periods, for grief, for joy, for travel.
FemGlow is the journal I wish I'd had then. It's evidence-based — because I'm a clinical nutritionist and that's how I think. But it's also gentle, because the women I work with are tired, not lazy.