I want to start here, because otherwise this conversation gets spicy and people start coming at me before we’ve even taken a breath.
​
If you prescribe weight loss, I don’t automatically think you’re a terrible practitioner. I don’t think you’re sitting there in clinic twirling an evil moustache wondering how to make your client’s relationship with food worse.

Pretty much all practitioners I know are genuinely trying to help. People come to us with blood sugar concerns, PCOS, fertility stuff, pain, fatigue, cholesterol, perimenopause, gut symptoms, inflammation, mobility concerns, body distress and the whole messy sitch of being a human with a body in this culture.

And yes, people ask for weight loss. Sometimes directly. Sometimes desperately. Or after a GP has told them to. Sometimes they ask for weight loss after years of being taught that shrinking their body is the path to health, acceptance, love, discipline, fertility, confidence, control or finally being “fixed”.

So I understand why weight loss ends up in the room. I understand that some practitioners have built their entire businesses around this work. I understand that some have trained in specific programs and genuinely believe in them. I understand that people have families to feed, rent to pay, and their own food/body/weight histories just like the rest of us.

This is not me sitting on some moral purity throne yelling “bad naturopath” or “shitty nutritionist” at everyone who has ever used a weight loss treatment plan.

And. If weight loss is part of your work, disordered eating literacy is not optional. 

Especially not now, when diet culture is especially feral. You may have noticed that extreme thinness is back. GLP-1s are being treated like casual lifestyle tools, and unregulated peptides are floating around. People are openly joking about barely eating, losing their appetite, living on protein bars and coffee, or “forgetting food exists”, and everyone is meant to clap because their body is shrinking.

That cultural backdrop matters. Our clients are not asking for weight loss in a vacuum. They’re asking inside a culture that massively rewards thinness, praises restriction when it produces the “right” body, and disturbingly, often calls disordered eating “discipline” until the person looks sick enough to worry about.
​
So here are five things I wish more practitioners knew if weight loss is part of their clinical work.
​

This feels especially important right now.

The current GLP-1 conversation has made appetite suppression sound almost glamorous. People are talking about not eating with this strange little sparkle, as if hunger disappearing is always a win, as if eating very little is fine as long as it comes in a medical-looking package, as if “I can’t finish a meal anymore” or only being able to et toddler-sized portions is automatically good news.

GLP-1 medications can be useful and important for some people. There may be real benefits for people with diabetes, insulin resistance, PCOS, cardiovascular risk, or other clinical contexts where glycaemic control and metabolic markers genuinely need support.

I am not anti-medication or anti-pharma, and I am not pretending metabolic health doesn’t matter.

What I'm very much against is the casual normalisation of under-eating, muscle loss, nutrient inadequacy, digestive symptoms, food avoidance, body obsession and eating disorder relapse in the name of weight loss. There is a big bloody difference between thoughtful prescribing with proper screening and monitoring, and a culture that treats “I can barely eat anymore” like a cute little success story.

Chuck unregulated peptides and wellness-world “hacks” into the mix and it gets even messier.

Weight loss can look like it’s “working” while someone’s relationship with food is getting worse.
The client loses weight. Their blood markers may even improve temporarily. They feel motivated. People praise them. The intervention looks successful from the outside.

Underneath, food becomes more rigid. Eating out becomes harder. Anxiety increases. Bingeing escalates. Exercise becomes compulsive. They stop trusting hunger. They become terrified of weight regain. They feel ashamed when they can’t maintain the plan.

That isn't a miniscule side issue.

If our version of health makes someone more frightened of food, more disconnected from their body, more obsessed with control and more vulnerable to relapse, we need to stop and look harder at what we are calling “success”.

I don't think every naturopath, nutritionist or herbalist needs to become an eating disorder specialist. That isn't the point at all.

The point is knowing enough to recognise when something is not a simple food conversation anymore. Knowing when to slow down, when to screen, when to ask better questions, when to stop making weight loss the centre of the room, when to stabilise before you protocol, when to refer, when to collaborate, when to document, and when to have the awkward conversation instead of just hoping the red flags sort themselves out.

If someone has a current eating disorder, a past eating disorder, or clear signs of disordered eating, that should be a giant-ass pause button before prescribing weight loss. Not a tiny note in the intake form. Not something we “keep in mind” while continuing with the exact same plan, albeit a "gentler" version of it.

I’m saying this because clients have told me this exact story. They disclosed active binge eating disorder, for example, and still walked away with a weight-loss plan - sometimes from practitioners using systems like Metabolic Balance, sometimes from other nutrition or naturopathic models that swear they’re being “balanced” and “not restrictive”.

But the client still heard: your body needs to shrink, and food control is the way we’re going to get there.

For someone already stuck in a binge-restrict cycle, that is not neutral. It can deepen shame, escalate the very behaviours we’re meant to be helping with, and teach the client that disclosure doesn’t actually make them safer in healthcare. It just means the same weight-loss plan gets wrapped in nicer language.

So no, a disclosed eating disorder history should not become a footnote while we keep punching on with weight loss. 

It should change the plan. It should be a pause button. Like, a proper one.

And a pause button does not mean you abandon the client, shame them, or say, “Too complex, off you go!” It means you practise with more care. It means adequacy, regularity, nervous system safety, nourishment, connection and trust with food may need to come before the gut protocol, the fasting window, the detox, the metabolic reset, the appetite suppression or the weight-loss plan.

Restriction is not a harmless default. It lands (sometimes really fucking hard) inside a person’s history, nervous system, beliefs, shame, coping strategies and relationship with food.

We need to know what we’re walking into.

This is something that kind of punched me in the face (in the best possible way) in a recent supervision session with Fiona Sutherland.

In the context of working with disordered eating in clinical practice, I asked her: 

“What’s the most common way harm happens in communication?”

I expected something about saying the wrong thing. Messing the wording up. Or accidentally reinforcing something, affirming something disordered.

But her answer caught me off guard:

Harm doesn’t usually happen because we say the wrong thing.
​
It happens because we say nothing at all.
​

Lately, I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Not just in clinic, but in life more broadly. I've had a lot of my energy return after ending a relationship, and have been getting back into running and Muay Thai. And I'm in the PLANNING stages of getting my bike fixed to start mountain biking again! All of this feels exciting and spicy because currently my other forms of movement are very slow - mostly weights and yoga.

The kids are back at school after the chaos of holidays, which means I can actually go for walks and runs again, and do the work I want to do without having my attention hung drawn and quartered in three different directions (fellow self-employed solo parents, I know you get me!). It's that weird mix of freedom and pressure that comes with being self-employed and rebuilding your rhythm again.

Basically, there’s a lot of noticing happening. Noticing what feels off. What needs attention. And what would be easier to just ignore.

There’s been a fair bit of this in my personal life lately. Backing myself to create this course after sitting on the idea for way too long (we're talking years). Getting back into movement because it actually feels good in my body... not because it’s “optimal.”

And also recognising something a bit harder: that avoiding what’s not working doesn’t actually make it go away.

I’ve had a few crossroad moments recently where I’ve had to face things I probably would’ve preferred to keep brushing past... even though it was harmful.

Different context, same pattern.

Avoidance can feel soooooo much safer in the moment. But eventually, you’re brought face to face with what needs to be addressed.

But the uncomfortable truth is that saying nothing isn’t neutral. It’s an omission of care.

Somewhere along the line, we’ve learned that conflict equates to harm. And that harm equates to someone getting upset. And us empathetic, compassionate practitioners have been taught that this isn't ok. That if there is anger, tears, defensiveness, or shutting down, we think “Shit… I’ve handled that badly.”

I know I've definitely been there with clients responding in every single one of those ways and more.

But that’s not necessarily what’s happening. Sometimes, it just means it’s new, it’s confronting, it wasn’t what they expected, or perhaps the timing caught them off guard.

That’s not the same as harm. That’s often just discomfort meeting something important.

Of course, how we say things matters. We can:

• choose our timing
• be thoughtful
• stay grounded
• actually care about how it lands

All of that helps. But even when we do everything “right”, it still might not land comfortably. 
And that doesn’t mean we’ve caused harm.

The bigger risk, most of the time, is this:

• seeing clear signs of disordered eating… and not naming it
• continuing to optimise or restrict without addressing what’s underneath
• going along with something because it feels easier in the moment

If there’s one thing I keep coming back to, it’s this:

Courage in practice doesn’t look like having the perfect words.

It looks like: noticing something, staying with it, and being willing to name it, even if your voice wobbles a bit. 

​Because avoiding the conversation doesn’t protect your client. It just delays what actually needs care.

So what does this actually look like?

Not being blunt or forceful. But being willing to say:
“Hey… I’m noticing something here, and I think it’s important we talk about it.”

That takes courage. And hell yeah, sometimes it might land super awkwardly. But that’s very different to harm.

If this is something you’ve found yourself navigating in practice (that moment where you know something’s there but aren’t quite sure how to name it), I’ve put together a free guide on:
7 red flags of disordered eating practitioners often miss in clinic.

It’s a simple starting point for recognising these patterns earlier and responding more safely.
👉 You can download it here.

With courage,
Casey
Disordered Eating Dietitian | Naturopath

A reflection on intergenerational hunger, healing, and the body as home.

I was born in 1985 and grew up in a small North Queensland town. When I started primary school I was the only visibly non-white kid: half Australian, half Chinese Malaysian, learning early what “different” looked like. Later, when my parents moved me to a bigger primary school (largely due to being bullied), my brother and I were two of the very few kids who were visibly Asian or mixed-Asian. 

​By the time boys entered the picture in late primary school and high school, I’d already learned what “pretty” meant - white, blonde, familiar - and I knew I wasn’t it.

​My mum migrated from Malaysia, bringing with her the smell of soy and sesame, the stories of migration, and the insistence on thrift and nourishment.

Within me I carried her accent, her cooking, her lineage... and also the subtle and not-so-subtle lessons that difference was something to control. In the 1990s, any lunchboxes that stood out were teased: honey soy chicken wings, Chinese New Year leftovers, anything that earned me the "ching chong chinaman" taunt. I learned to avoid them. Sandwiches and pies were safer. “Normal.”

It took decades to understand how that small-town survival strategy was rooted in something much older and larger: colonialism’s long shadow over food, body, and belonging.
​

Tolle causam. Identify and treat the causes.

Naturopaths, herbalists and holistic nutritionists - we all pride ourselves on treating holistically, not symptomatically. We know symptoms are not random defects but attempts by the body to adapt, recover, and heal.

But what if our profession’s understanding of “root cause” has itself been uprooted from its origins?

What if the systems that taught us to “fix” and “purify” the body were shaped by the same colonial worldviews that divided nature from culture, and reason from intuition?

As Sabrina Strings shows in Fearing the Black Body, Western medicine and wellness alike inherited a moral code that tied discipline, restraint, and whiteness to health. Modern diet culture - and much of what passes as “clean” or “natural” living - still carries this legacy.

If our goal is Tolle Causam, then we can’t stop at physiology. We have to trace the roots right down, deep down into the soil of culture, power, and history. Because disordered eating, weight stigma, and body shame are not individual failures.

They’re predictable outcomes of a system that worships control and pathologises difference.

When we start to see diet culture and disordered eating through that lens, it’s clear they aren’t personal failings - they’re colonial inheritances.

Our profession didn’t create these hierarchies, but we HAVE absorbed them. They show up every time “balance” is framed as self-discipline, every time “toxins” are blamed instead of trauma, every time we mistake restriction for healing.

Decolonising wellness means recognising that many of our “root cause” approaches were built within a white, Western worldview that equated thinness, discipline, and control with virtue. As Sabrina Strings (2019) shows in Fearing the Black Body, modern fatphobia emerged from the same racial hierarchies that defined who was seen as civilised or worthy. These hierarchies still echo in the way we talk about “clean eating,” “toxins,” and “fixing” the body.

This is where naturopathy, for all its holistic intentions, can lose its roots.

When our clinical gaze is shaped by colonial ideals of control and purity, we risk reproducing the very harm we claim to heal.

And yet, there are two glaring blind spots where we often forget this principle in practice:

• Prescribing weight loss as a treatment for chronic conditions like type 2 diabetes, PCOS, cardiovascular disease, and infertility.
• Failing to recognise and address eating disorders and disordered eating, which themselves are often the deeper causes of digestive, endocrine, reproductive, and mental health presentations.

When we reduce health to body weight, we mistake correlation for causation... and we ignore the true roots.

Primum non nocere. First, do no harm.

This is the first tenet of the naturopathic oath we all take on graduation day from college, and the most critical.

As naturopaths we strive not to add to the burden of problems of our patients. To refrain from damaging their physical, mental, or emotional wellbeing. To not intervene in ways that harm.

In many ways, we are good at abiding by this foundational tenet...

• We know not to prescribe a herb that will interact dangerously with a client’s medication.
• We avoid recommending restrictive elimination diets when a gentler, more balanced approach will suffice.
• We double-check safety in pregnancy before recommending a herb or an essential oil
• We withhold a liver detox protocol when a client’s constitution is already depleted.
• We understand that sometimes less is more - that doing nothing is better than doing something that could cause harm.

And yet… there's something insidious going on within the naturopathic profession that has not been called out. Despite our best intentions, it's doing serious harm to our clients, our profession, and ourselves.

That thing is a weight-focused approach to health, also known as the weight-centric health paradigm (WCHP) (O’Hara & Taylor, 2018). Whether directly or indirectly, promoting weight loss does irrefutable harm.
​
Even if it’s weight loss “for health.” Or “for fertility.” Or just because “who doesn’t want to be a bit leaner?”
​

Here’s where Intuitive Eating comes in. Its very first principle - Reject Diet Culture - mirrors Primum non nocere.

Diets don’t just fail in the long run. They cause measurable harm.

• Metabolic harm: In the famous “Biggest Loser” follow-up study, participants showed a sustained metabolic slowdown of around 700 calories/day, persisting six years after the intervention (Fothergill et al., 2016). This adaptive thermogenesis increases the risk of weight regain and long-term metabolic disturbance.
• Weight cycling: Repeated weight loss and regain (very common after diets) increases risk of hypertension, insulin resistance, and cardiovascular disease - independent of BMI (Montani, Schutz, & Dulloo, 2015).
• Disordered eating: Dieting is one of the strongest predictors for the onset of eating disorders. Even “moderate” restriction can lead to binge-restrict cycles and clinical eating disorders (Stice, Marti, & Durant, 2011).
• Psychological harm: Dieting is associated with increased body dissatisfaction, food preoccupation, depression, and lowered self-esteem (Polivy & Herman, 1985).
• Nutrient deficiencies: Restrictive diets often reduce intake of essential micronutrients such as iron, calcium, and B vitamins (depending on which diet), particularly when multiple food groups are excluded (O’Hara & Taylor, 2018).

Given this evidence, how can we possibly collude with diet culture and still claim to practice do no harm? To prescribe or promote weight loss is not neutral; it is a harmful intervention that undermines health.

The “wellness” world loooooves a trend.

Ice baths. Fasting windows. Keto meal plans.
They promise all energy, focus, and “balance” - the holy trinity of modern womanhood.

But most of these hacks were built on male physiology!

They rarely consider what happens when oestrogen and progesterone begin their unpredictable midlife waltz... when sleep gets lighter, moods swing harder, and recovery takes longer.

Perimenopause isn’t a malfunction. It’s the changing of the tide, a body moving from flower to fruit to seed.

A recalibration. Beneath the surface, hormones surge and ebb like weather fronts. Bones remodel. Nerves rewire. This isn’t decline. It’s meant to happen.

But the wellness industry can’t stand what it can’t control! So it sells us “resets,” ice baths, fasts, and cleanses - all in the name of balance (or discipline / purity / whatever-the-fuck).

The underlying message, of course, is this: Be smaller. Be quieter. Be easier to manage.

Meanwhile, your body is doing something revolutionary: reclaiming itself. Wild. Wise. Inconveniently alive for the systems that prefer your power domesticated.

Perimenopause is a remembering of nature’s pace, and nature doesn’t rush her tides. So maybe it’s time to put down the bro hacks, return the tools to the earth, and listen for what’s stirring beneath the surface.

Let’s unpack five of the biggest “wellness” culprits - five wellness trends your perimenopausal body f*cking hates - and what actually supports your body through this transition.
​

Welcome to part three of the Disordered Eating for Naturopaths series. In the last two instalments, we explored the spectrum of disordered eating and the red flags practitioners should never miss.

Now, we’re looking at the uncomfortable middle ground: The place where disordered eating and naturopathic practice intersect.

It happens in two key ways:

1. When clients seek affirmation of their disordered eating through naturopathic care.
2. When naturopaths unintentionally - or sometimes directly - reinforce those patterns.

Let’s be honest: this one’s going to sting a little. But it’s also where real growth starts. So let's go!
​

I had a heated discussion with my dad today. He only reads the Courier-Mail - one of Rupert Murdoch’s News Corp rags - and he was adamant that “immigrants are taking all our jobs and houses!” In particular he singled out Palestinian refugees, echoing the tabloid line that they’re flooding in unchecked and "could be terrorists.”​

He didn’t know the actual stats. He didn’t know that Palestinians fleeing war go through multiple rounds of health, identity, security, and character checks before they can even get here. Between October 2023 and August 2024, Australia granted 2922 visas to people from Gaza and the West Bank. Of those, only about 1300 have actually arrived (ABC News, 2024; Wikipedia, 2024).

Most of those arrivals are on visitor visas - which mean no right to work, no Medicare, and no social support (ABC News, 2024). In the same period, thousands more Palestinians applied for protection or humanitarian visas and were denied (SBS News, 2024). The government even admitted it’s rejecting more applications than it approves.

In early 2025, officials reported that almost 1000 humanitarian visas had been granted to Palestinians and Israelis fleeing the conflict (CathNews, 2025). Yet when you compare that to the scale of displacement - more than 1.9 million Gazans uprooted - these numbers are tiny.

My dad's response to these numbers? "Oh. Is that it?"

This is not some wide-open floodgate. It’s extreme gatekeeping disguised as generosity.

It reminds me of a landlord who turns off the water for the whole apartment block, then sits back while the tenants fight each other for the last drips from the tap. The real question isn’t who stole your glass of water - it’s why the fuck the landlord cut it off in the first place.

That’s what scapegoating does. It directs our anger sideways or punches down - at immigrants, or at any of a number marginalised groups (take your pick: trans and LGBTQ+ people, people on welfare or unemployed folks, First Nations people, women and feminists, unions and striking workers, climate activists and scientists, Muslims and other religious minorities, young people and students, disabled people and NDIS users)... instead of upwards, where the real damage is being done.

So let me be crystal clear about who's actually to blame for the housing crisis.
​

Transformation | Remembrance | Rejection & insecurity | Bringing subconscious fears to light | Tending to the wounded healer


This highly recognisable mushroom may bring to mind whimsical images from childhood fairytales, yet today it’s often feared as deadly by those unfamiliar with her deeper healing potential. To dispel this myth: Fly Agaric (Amanita muscaria), unlike some in her genus, is not deadly when prepared properly. Still, this storybook toadstool commands deep respect and understanding.


Amanita arrives in a cloak of childlike wonder - bright, enchanting, curious, and mischievous - yet her roots run deep, touching the hidden places within the earth and soul. She is the little one who knows the way to the underworld. In her presence, we remember that even innocence can open ancient doors. 


She reflects both the Six of Cups and The Magician cards of tarot - a bridge between tender remembrance and inner transformation. Amanita invites us to playfully reconnect with forgotten and ignored parts of ourselves, while guiding us through a sacred alchemical transmutation in which we become awake to that which no longer serves. 


Amanita muscaria, though toxic if misused, has been revered for inducing altered states, catalysing inner alchemy - a reshaping of consciousness, much like the Magician’s role in the tarot. Transformation in this sense is not an end, but a clearing - one that the ego often resists, yet is essential for new growth. The descent is rarely soft, but in yielding to it, we awaken a raw, childlike curiosity that matures into deep inner strength. From that softened place trapped energy begins to flow, offering quiet liberation. 


Called “the archetypal magic mushroom” by Australian mycologist Caine Barlow, Amanita muscaria has long held a place in traditional cultures as a spiritual ally and entheogen. Amanita was often used in ritualistic or initiatory contexts, testing the limits of the mind and spirit. This mushroom represents the cost and consequence of seeking true power. But magic without grounding is delusion. Though powerful and potentially overwhelming when taken beyond microdose levels, if approached with reverence and preparation it can bring profound initiation - mirroring rites of passage and ego death. 


In my experience, the essence of Amanita offers a gentler, safer, and more sustainable way to work with her. Through dreams, visions, and gentle unraveling, she brings subconscious fears - especially around rejection, insecurity, and change - into the light of awareness. Her medicine deepens when paired with dreamwork, meditation, or spirit communion. 


Amanita is especially resonant for those who walk at the edges -the bog witches, wood dwellers, wild seers and wounded healers - those who guide others through chaos yet often avoid their own depths. Her essence helps dissolve long-held patterns shaped by pain, fear, or isolation. In the breaking open, something softer, more authentic, and more whole is born.


Tarot correspondence: The Magician, 6 of Cups


Element: Fire, Earth


Planets: Sun, Moon, Mercury


Dosage: Take 2-4 drops up to 4 times per day, directly on the tongue or in a glass of water.


Ingredients: Amanita muscaria vibrational essence. Made with gluten free brandy and filtered rainwater. 


Amanita is the first in a sacred triad of allies for walking the shadowed path - joining Datura and Angel's Trumpet as gatekeepers to the underworld and midwives for the soul’s return. Together, these three master plants guide the spiral descent into the depths and the luminous reemergence that follows.


If your spirit feels the call to walk this path with intention, mystery, and deep remembrance, you’re invited to join myself, my beloved sister and herbalist Dominika, and these potent green teachers for a 6-week guided descent:

🌑 The Poisoned Path – Journey Into the Underworld 🌿

Come prepared to meet your shadows, your power, and the wisdom that waits in the dark.


​Handcrafted with love by Casey Conroy, qualified naturopath and herbalist using organically grown or sustainably wildcrafted plants and fungi. This is a vibrational remedy.


15mL stock bottle



** Payment for Amanita Mushroom Essence **


Due to Square’s payment policy, we’re unable to process payments for Amanita muscaria products through their system.

(It’s a bit of a silly rule - this is an essence containing no actual mushroom material - but Square still blocks it under their “restricted items” list.)

✨ If you’d like to order Amanita muscaria essence, please use direct bank transfer instead:


Account Name: Casey Conroy
BSB: 923 000
Account Number: 307015668
Reference: Please use your full name as the payment reference so we can match your order.


If your order includes any Amanita essence - whether this is your entire order or you wish to also buy other products, please email me with what you'd like and I will send you a quote and put your entire order together. 

​Please note there is an addition to your order total of $15.95 for regular postage or $22.95 for express postage in Australia. 

Please email [email protected] to let me know you've placed an order. Once payment is received, we’ll confirm your order by text or email. Thank you for your understanding!