You’ve had the kind of day that sits heavier than normal, the meeting that went sideways, the conversation you replayed on the drive home, the low hum of everything you still haven’t dealt with.
And then, almost without deciding to, you find yourself standing in the kitchen, or the pantry, or finishing something off you didn’t even really want.
And afterwards the familiar feeling, not comfort, exactly, more like a temporary satisfaction, followed, usually, by something that feels uncomfortably like shame.
"I know what to do. I just haven’t done it."
If that’s ever been you and for most of the women I work with, it has I want to say something clearly before we go any further: there is nothing wrong with you. What you’re doing makes complete sense and it has almost nothing to do with food.
What comfort eating is actually doing
When your nervous system is under pressure, stressed, overwhelmed, emotionally overloaded it looks for ways to regulate to come back to something that feels manageable.
Food, particularly food that is sweet, salty, or rich in fat, activates the brain’s reward system quickly, it creates a brief sense of relief, a moment of feeling okay when everything else feels like too much.
This isn't a weakness, it’s your brain doing exactly what it was designed to do finding the fastest route back to safety.
The problem isn’t that you reach for comfort, the problem is that the comfort is temporary, and the thing under this, the stress, the emotional load, the unmet need is still there when it wears off. So the cycle continues, not because you lack self-control, but because the real source hasn’t been addressed.
"I haven’t made the time. Because I haven’t valued myself enough."
I hear this after women have spent years trying to fix their relationship with food, trying different diets, different approaches, different levels of willpower. None of it worked because none of it reached the spot where the pattern actually lived.
When they understand that reaching for food isn’t a food problem — it's a signal that something deeper needs attention — everything starts to shift.
Comfort eating is one of the clearest examples of what I work with at the intersection of brain, body, and behaviour. Because the behaviour — reaching for food is visible but the pattern driving it is almost always invisible until someone helps you see it.
Sometimes it’s an emotional load that has nowhere else to go, the woman who holds it together for everyone else, all day, and finally exhales at night and that happens in the kitchen.
Sometimes it’s a protection pattern, the body holding something it doesn’t yet feel safe to release. Food as armour in the most literal sense.
Sometimes it’s a nervous system that has been in a low-grade stress response for so long that it has forgotten what settled actually feels like and food is the closest thing available.
"You’re non-threatening at this size. You can fade in to the background"
That came from a client in one of our early sessions, unprompted she had never said it out loud before but once she heard herself say it, something resonated. The physical pattern she’d been trying to change for years suddenly made sense in a completely different way.
That is not a nutrition insight, that is the pattern underneath the behaviour. And it is the only level at which lasting change actually happens.
The conventional approach to comfort eating is to try harder, carefully remove the foods from the house, find a healthier substitute or show more discipline.
And sometimes those things help, for a while. But if the pattern underneath is still there, the behaviour finds another outlet. Or it comes back. Because the nervous system is still looking for regulation, and you’ve just removed one of the tools it knew how to use.
What actually works is addressing the source.
Understanding what the reaching is really for. Building the capacity to tolerate the feeling underneath it without immediately needing to soothe it away. Finding what the nervous system actually needs and giving it that, instead.
This isn’t a mindset shift, it's not positive affirmations or more self-control, it’s real, embodied change at the level of identity, nervous system, and behaviour simultaneously. Which is exactly what happens when the brain, body, and behaviour are worked together rather than in isolation.
Instead of asking ‘how do I stop doing this’ which keeps the focus on the behaviour try asking: what is this actually for?
What does the reaching give you in that moment, however briefly? Peace? Control? Warmth? A sense of being taken care of?
Whatever the answer is, that’s the real need and that need is completely legitimate. It just hasn’t found a way to be met yet that doesn’t leave you feeling worse afterwards.
Finding that way that’s the work, and it’s much closer than you might think.
"It feels like I’ve come home to myself. I finally allowed myself to come home."
That’s what’s available on the other side of this. Not a perfect relationship with food though that tends to follow. A genuine, settled sense of yourself, one that doesn’t need to be soothed, because it finally feels safe.
Why can’t I lose weight even though I know what I should be doing?
Knowing what to eat is only one part of the picture. Weight can be influenced by sleep, stress, hormones, medication, pain, activity levels, appetite, health conditions and the mental load you are carrying. When you have been running on empty, it can be much harder to plan, shop, cook and make choices that feel supportive.
Why can’t I stick to a diet?
Many diets rely on restriction, rules and willpower. They may work for a short time, but they often become harder to maintain when life is busy, emotions are high or your body is already tired. It is not always a lack of discipline; sometimes the plan simply does not fit the capacity you have available.
Why do I eat when I am stressed, tired or overwhelmed?
Food can become a quick source of comfort, relief, reward or a pause in the day. That does not mean you have failed. It can be useful to look at what is happening before the eating: whether you are underfed, exhausted, emotionally stretched or have spent the whole day putting everyone else first.
Why do I keep starting healthy eating plans and then falling off track?
Often, people begin with a plan that asks for too much change at once. If the plan does not account for your real life, energy, routines and pressures, it can become another thing to manage. A more sustainable approach starts with what is realistically possible now and builds from there.
Can stress and poor sleep make it harder to manage my weight?
Yes. Stress and disrupted sleep can affect appetite, cravings, energy, mood and the ability to make decisions. They are not the only factors involved in weight changes, but they are important parts of the picture and worth addressing alongside food and movement.
When should I get support with weight or eating habits?
It may be time for support if weight changes feel unexplained, eating feels increasingly distressing, you are caught in a cycle of dieting and overeating, or you feel as though you have tried everything without understanding what is getting in the way. Your GP can help investigate medical factors, and the right support can help you look beyond food alone.
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Fiona Chapman is an Executive Wellbeing Coach and Clinical Naturopath (BHSc) working at the intersection of brain, body, and behaviour.
FIONA CHAPMAN
I know this world because I've lived it
For over twenty years I worked in audio visual production and corporate theatre. High-pressure environments, big moving parts, national and international travel, corporate clients and three children at home. I know what it means to be the person who holds it all together. I also know what it costs.
I came down with a virus during one of the busiest periods of my life. Everyone else got better. I didn't. What I eventually understood was that my body had been running on reserve for years: hormonal imbalances, burnout in the making, and a virus was simply the thing that made it impossible to keep going. I was a naturopath. I knew all the things. And it still got me.
That's when I understood what my clients are living at a level that no textbook could have taught me.
I completed my Bachelor of Health Science in Naturopathy because a naturopath once sat across from me and actually listened and got me back on my feet. I wanted to be that person for someone else. And I kept going deeper into coaching methodology, behaviour change, identity work, and neurofeedback because I kept seeing the same wall.
The body would get better. Life would press on them again. And within months they'd be back where they started. Something was missing. The Spaghetti Freeway is my answer to that wall.
© 2026 Fiona Chapman. All rights reserved.
Working at the intersection of brain, body, and behaviour.