Before I get started, I want to make it clear that while I may turn out to be the nerdiest and weirdest data-driven person you’ve ever met, I am also a tender-hearted lover of people and an old soul. It might sound a little unexpected coming from a nutrition coach, but it’s true.

I learned long ago —whether through my aggressively hospitable family values, my own volition, or from my faith— that all the skills that I have acquired aren’t for me, but for me to use on behalf of everyone I meet. So maybe that’s why I have acquired what may be the oddest conglomerate of skills, knowledge, experiences, and behaviors… because I was meant to meet someone exactly like you.

But who exactly am I, you may ask? As aforementioned, my formal title is Dr. Jessica Risk, Ed.D., but you can call me Jess or Coach. I’m not one for formalities, and I certainly don’t want you to feel as if you are sitting in a rigidly uncomfortable chair at the doctor’s office, an awkward therapy session, or a much too formal office meeting— I’d much rather have you curled up on my couch with a coffee in hand and a blanket that smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon spread across your lap as we chat. Unfortunately, since you are reading these words rather than literally sitting in my living room, I suppose this chat is rather one-sided for now, but I do hope we get to meet and talk soon!

On paper (aka, my W2), I work in the field of Educational Administration, since my passion has always been helping people navigate complex institutions and systems that were not always designed with their success in mind. I earned my doctorate in Education last year, and I love using my research skills, knowledge, and expertise to make other’s lives better. My life’s work is centered on supporting and advocating for those who are struggling, taking them by the hand, and giving them the knowledge, resources, and support they need to find their way and be successful beyond their wildest dreams. So maybe that’s why this coaching thing has been my other passion through it all— no matter the realm I find myself in, I find myself with my arm outreached, eager to grab the hand of the next person to help guide them through with confidence and clarity.

The Beginning of My Nutrition Journey: My First Memories of Shame

If I’m being honest, my nutrition story begins as an eight-year-old. Why? Because that was the first time that I realized that something was wrong with me… or at least, that’s what I believed about myself for decades.

To this day, I cannot fathom why Ava, Nat, and Nate—my second grade classmates whose desks were bundled in the same groups as mine— decided to talk about their weight that day, but that was the first time I felt shame about my body.

“I’m 60 lbs!” Ava proclaimed. “I’m 65 lbs!” says Nat, and Nate chimes in “Me too!”

I pretend not to hear, pretend to be engrossed in my math assignment, as I feel the painful closing of my throat as shame washes over my whole body.

I’m fat, I tell myself, How is it that I’m 20 lbs heavier than these BOYS in my class!?! Something must be terribly wrong with me.

That moment planted a seed of self-doubt that continued to grow.

By the time I reached middle school, that seed had blossomed into an overwhelming awareness of my size and eating habits compared to those around me. I noticed how my lunch tray always seemed emptier than my classmates’ by the time the lunch bell rang. While they had leftovers, my plate was empty—and I was still hungry. Growing up, I always felt so hungry.

Medical Advice & Misunderstandings

By 8th grade, my doctor recommended a medical weight loss program. At 5’9″ and thirteen years old, I was told that being 180 lbs placed me on the verge of an Obesity Type II classification. I was warned that if I didn’t get control of my eating habits, I might not live past 40, given my family’s complicated health history.

I was so confused then. I had zero nutrition knowledge and always felt hungry. I thought that getting home from school and eating a full-sized bag of tortilla chips, a grilled cheese sandwich with two slices of cheese and extra margarine in the pan, and a full can of Campbell’s Chunky Soup was a “normal afternoon snack”… just before eating a full serving of the dinner my parents made when they arrived home 90 minutes later, and a bowl of ice cream later for dessert.

I felt like no one understood, and I even remember crying myself to sleep one night, holding onto my stomach and praying, begging, pleading to God that it would be gone when I woke up in the morning.

In that moment, I felt both desperate and invisible. I wondered if anyone else felt this way—if anyone could see the weight I carried both inside and out. I wondered why I found myself trapped in my own body, seemingly unable to control my weight or how I looked.

Of course, no miraculous weight loss appeared despite my pleading prayers when awoke the next morning. I tried to eat less, but I was so all-or-nothing in my mindset and my eating habits that by the time I was 16 years old, my highest weigh-in reached 220 lbs.

Desperation, Extremes & Learning about Self-Love

When I felt I had a better grasp on how to follow the doctor’s recommendations, I went to extremes. My first attempt at a food log consisted of me “fasting” from breakfast and having chicken broth cubes for dinner, the only real food I ate for lunch being a Tim Horton’s Whole Wheat Turkey Sandwich with cheese and one leaf of lettuce. I remember being so proud that by the end of that week, I had logged less than 800 calories per day and saw my weight drop to 213 lbs.

But just when I went to try to brag to my mom about my weight loss, my brother interjected with a rude comment about people who weigh over 200 lbs, and I immediately shrank back into myself.

Even with this weight loss, I thought, I will never be enough.

It was at that point that I felt like I would never be able to change my body, but I knew that didn’t mean that I couldn’t learn to love myself.

Maybe I wouldn’t love the way my thighs jiggled or my size 16 pants, but I could lean into the parts of myself that I truly believed were beautiful — my intellect, my heart, my ability to write and express myself, my faith— and so I did.

It’s still a little bit of a mystery to me how exactly I cultivated a ridiculous amount of self-compassion and self-love at a time I felt so hopeless about my body, but I thank God for how he worked in me then. It was that self-narrative work that shifted what would become my future fitness journey from one of self-hatred to one of radical self-love.

College: The Turning point

Those early experiences shaped my approach to food and my body for years. But my college years became a turning point and catalyst.

While college is notorious for the Freshman Fifteen, the change in environment was exactly what I needed. By the time I started my sophomore year, I had lost 15 lbs and weighed in at 200 lbs.

For the first time, I felt like I was making progress without punishing myself. The brand new food environment made it much easier to make progress; not only did this new college meal plan mean I was allotted three meals per day, my access to the ultra-processed foods I was so accustomed to snacking on between meals nearly disappeared (because I was a broke college student with no car). Not to mention, my step count skyrocketed because I now had to walk across campus every day for my classes.

But the true turning point for my journey came when I enrolled in my college’s campus rec center’s Biggest Loser Challenge over a decade ago. While weight loss would be cool, I didn’t sign up with large expectations — I was more so interested in the fact that we got 24 group personal training sessions (2 sessions x 12 weeks) for a whopping $100 entry fee.

I knew that I needed accountability to show up the gym. I knew that I was the kind of person who would show up every time because (1) I paid for it and I’m was gonna get my money’s worth and (2) there was absolutely no way I was going to disappoint my personal trainer (recovering people pleaser here). As part of the challenge, we logged our food in MyFitness Pal, were required to go to the rec one additional time outside of the group sessions (i.e., 3x per week), had to attend 3 nutritional information sessions, and reported to the Rec every Monday morning for our weigh in.

For the first time, I experienced movement and nutrition as a way to feel better rather than as a punishment or a desperate means to change. The accountability worked. I felt stronger, more confident, and began to believe that change was truly possible.

I suppose it also helps that I can be a hyper-competitive person at times and had been convinced that I wasn’t going to win the challenge; so once I felt like I gained traction and got into a groove, I doubled down hard. I showed up to the gym 5 days a week, went on long walks on the golf course attached to campus, and still hit my calorie targets of 2000-2200. Only to find out that at the end of twelve weeks, I blew everyone out of the park. I had lost 24 lbs, 25 inches, and 12.1% of my body weight… and the second-place winner had lost 7.8%.

Becoming a Coach

It was after my success in that challenge that I decided I wanted to become a personal trainer and then a nutrition coach; I became so curious about the science of it all, dove into every textbook, read every science-backed book, followed every fitness and nutrition podcast I could, and explored various fitness communities and workout styles so that I could take what I learned and my experiences to help people like me… and like you, too.

Since my initial weight loss catalyst a decade ago, I’ve explored every corner of the nutrition world—from paleo to low-carb diets, to fueling for endurance sports and CrossFit competitions. I’ve discovered what my body is capable of when I nourish it well.

But here’s what I’ve learned along the way: It’s not about chasing perfection. It’s about chasing joy.

I’ve learned how to fuel for climbing adventures and backpacking trips, hiked over 2000 miles in a single year, ran my first half marathon, competed in CrossFit competitions, changed my body through progressive overload training, and am now training for my first trail 50k! I’ve been in seasons where my aesthetics were everything, and I’ve been in seasons where I’m more focused on what my body can do than what I look like in the mirror.

So you might think, well shit, this girl has got it all together and I bet she has a six-pack from all the training she does. She’s been where I’ve been, but how could she possibly know what it’s like to be where I am now?

I’ll let you in on a not-so-secret fact—I don’t have a visible six-pack and I never have in my life. My legs still jiggle when I run. I still have little rolls on my belly. I’ve been in this fitness/nutrition game consistently for over a decade, made plenty of mistakes, fought my inner critic, and achieved athletic milestones that sixteen-year-old me would never have dreamed of (and probably never have thought she’d even want to do stuff like that).

AND I still have regular weekly date nights with my husband where we chow down on Biryani, steaks, pasta, Mexican, you name it. I go out with friends for coffee and order a full-sugar latte (*gasp*), occasionally partake in grabbing the most decadent pastries from Cafe Babette (for real, look them up if you haven’t heard of them— they are INSANELY good), order the Pizza of the Week from HotBox if we don’t want to cook dinner, and eat a bagel with my breakfast every morning because it brings me joy.

I also consistently hit 150+ grams of protein, 30+ grams of fiber, make sure to get in at least 5 plants per day, lift 3-4 times a week, complete a zone 2 run and long run, and eat within my maintenance calorie range. Not because I *have* to, but because it fuels me for a life that feels full and expansive.

For me, that’s balance. I get to do really badass things because I fuel my body for the life I want to live— one that is BIG, where I get to do meaningful work, explore beautiful places, and test my limits. While no random stranger will likely look at me and assume I’m an athlete at a glance or that have the “perfect” body, but what I have is enough. I am enough.

I’m not in a rush to have the leanest, most muscular physique of my life tomorrow. I’m getting there day by day— as I heal, as I eat well, as I love and connect with those around me, as I celebrate, as I mourn, as I show up as my whole self.

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At the end of the day, nutrition isn’t just about what you eat—it’s about how you live. It’s about learning to care for yourself in a way that allows you to show up fully for the life you want to live.

And I know how hard it can be to navigate that journey alone. I’ve been there—caught in cycles of restriction, guilt, confusion, and frustration. But through every step of my own story, I’ve learned that true change doesn’t come from punishing yourself into submission. It comes from working with your body, not against it. It comes from understanding what nourishes your soul as much as your muscles.

It’s not about chasing the perfect body. It’s about embracing the best life possible and fueling yourself well enough to do all the super rad things you want to do.

So, as you reflect on your own story—your struggles, your wins, the moments that have shaped how you see yourself—know that you’re not alone in this. You’re not broken. And you’re already worthy of a life that feels full and free.

If any part of my story resonated with you, I hope you’ll carry that with you today. And maybe tomorrow, too.

Because change starts with a small spark—a simple moment of believing that maybe things can be different.