Why the Long Haul Dietitian?

People sometimes ask why I chose the name The Long Haul Dietitian.

The answer isn’t simply that I work with people living with long-term health conditions. It’s because, over many years, I have had to understand what a long haul really means.

When I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 1995, I was 27 years old.

Like many people, I had plans, ambitions and a fairly clear picture of the future I expected. A big part of that was the lifestyle I loved. Sport had always been a defining part of my life. I trusted my body and believed that determination and hard work could overcome almost anything.

A life-changing relapse in 2003 challenged that certainty.

For many years, I responded in the only way I knew how. Whenever I could, I tried to keep going. I tried to exercise, work and socialise. I kept smiling, pushed on and tried very hard not to give up.

Eventually, I realised that some situations ask something different of us.

I had been pouring precious, limited energy into trying to paddle a boat back to a shore that no longer existed — the life and the body I used to have.

That was quite an eye-opener.

It wasn’t a moment of giving up. It was the beginning of accepting reality as it was, rather than constantly measuring myself against the life I used to have.

It was one of the hardest lessons I have ever learnt.

Slowly, another question began to replace the old one: Given where I am today, what is still possible?

That question changed everything.

It shifted my focus from trying to get my old life back to making the very best of the life I have today. It taught me the value of curiosity instead of self-criticism, compassion instead of judgement, and working with my body rather than constantly battling against it.

Those lessons now shape every aspect of my work as a Dietitian.

Living with a long-term condition isn’t simply about managing symptoms. It can mean adapting to change, living with uncertainty and carrying burdens that are often invisible to everyone else. It can mean grieving for parts of your old life, being kind to yourself as you adjust, and accepting that some people may never fully understand.

So, when someone comes to see me, my first thought isn’t simply, “What should you be eating?” It’s to ask whether it might help to look at what they’re already carrying. Sometimes, that can be a question that unlocks the possibility of meaningful, sustainable nutritional change.

My own experiences have inevitably shaped the way I work, alongside everything I’ve learnt throughout my career as a Dietitian.  If that can help someone feel understood sooner, struggle less, and spend less precious energy trying to get back to where they once were, perhaps they can use more of that energy to discover what is possible now — and find their own way forward.