Why Discipline Never Fixed My Inconsistency
- Feb 6
- 7 min read
It Was My Nervous System
Today, I want to share something personal.
Because if you’ve ever:
felt like every hard season knocks you off your habits
if you start strong and then quietly fall apart
if you’ve ever called yourself inconsistent, lazy, dramatic, too much, or bad at following through…
This is for you.
Discipline Was Never the Thing That “Fixed” Me
I’m writing this at home, but by the time you’re reading I’ll be in Toronto with my girlfriends - which is actually perfect timing for what we’re talking about today.
Because for most of my life, I didn’t even realize I disappeared when my environment changed.
New city. New season. New stress. New identity shift.
And suddenly my routines, my body, my sense of self would quietly fall apart.
And here’s the thing: discipline was never the thing that “fixed” me. And it’s probably not the thing that’s going to fix you either.
I originally shared this story in writing on my Substack last week, and the response surprised me - not because it felt dramatic to me, but because so many women said:
“I can relate to this in so many ways.”
“This finally explains me.”
“This makes sense.”
My Story Didn’t Start With Food or Fitness
This story doesn’t start with food, fitness, discipline, or nervous system work.
It starts the day I was born - on a cold day in November in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories. I was born with a congenital condition called torticollis.
It’s where one of your major neck muscles - your sternocleidomastoid (SCM) - is contracted so tightly that you can’t rotate your head one way and you can’t hold your head up erect. It’s not super common, but it’s not wildly rare either.
What’s relevant is this: in the Northwest Territories in the 1980s, the intervention wasn’t physiotherapy and massage therapy like it would be today.
It was: cut it.
So I had a rare plastic surgery called Z-plasty, and I just...don’t have that muscle.
I’m sharing this not because my story is extreme or special, but because it’s an early example of what the body does all the time:
When something isn’t safe or doesn’t work, the body adapts - long before the mind ever knows what’s going on.
How My Body Learned to Compensate
(and Why That Matters)
This shaped how my body grew.
It shaped how I stand, how I move, and what feels “normal” in my body.
I danced in high school and nobody knew about it. It wasn’t like I walked around saying, “Hi, I’m Anne, and I have this congenital condition.”
But things were hard for me.
I have very limited thoracic mobility in my spine. And I didn’t have that language back then, but because my neck doesn’t go the same way and I can’t hold it up the same way, my body learned to compensate through my hips and lower back.
So I ended up with:
very mobile hips
a very mobile lower back
chronic low back pain (before I learned how to manage it - only about six years ago, by the way)
If I go to a yoga class with an instructor who doesn’t know me, I often have to tune them out - because they’ll cue the opposite of what I know my body needs.
My body is basically the opposite of most people who sit at a computer all day.
And I’m sharing this because I had to learn my body.
That matters a lot in this whole story.
Body Image, Acceptance, and Letting Go of “Fixing”
I love my body. I’m genuinely grateful for it.
I also have a body shape that I used to try to “fix.”
I have a pretty extreme anterior pelvic tilt, and I’ve worked on it my entire life.
And before you say it:
No, I don’t need to strengthen my hamstrings more.
No, my hip flexors won’t “open up” more.
I’ve worked with all the professionals. I’ve done all the things.
What I eventually learned is this:
It’s not a problem to solve. It’s the way my body adapted.
So I’ve learned to roll with it.
Even when I’m lean, my body can look like I’m sticking my booty out and have a belly.
That’s just how I’m shaped.
And accepting that? That was part of learning to live inside myself.
The Bush, the Homeschooling, and the Theme of Adaptation
Another piece of my story that people find interesting is that I was homeschooled in the bush in the Northwest Territories.
And when I say bush, I mean:
not a town
not a store
not a school
not a post office
not a road
not on Google Maps
no electricity
no running water
no street lights
no light at night
I had baths in a metal wash basin with water heated on a wood stove.
It’s beautiful. And people always say, “That’s so cool.”
At the time, it just felt normal.
In hindsight, I can see how rare it was.
And I can also see how it probably was hard for a kid.
But again… the theme is adaptation.
Moving to Toronto and Losing My “Body Compass”
Eventually, I went to public school in a small town of about 4,000, and then at 17, I left by myself. I moved to Toronto for journalism school at Ryerson University (now Toronto Metropolitan University). It was one of the best decisions I ever made. I learned so much about people, culture, and the world.
But it was also the beginning of my first real self-abandonment chapter.
Up until then, movement was structured.
I danced competitively.
I taught dance.
I moved 10+ hours a week.
Food was handled by my mom.
My nervous system was held.
It was safe.
Suddenly I was in the biggest city in the country, full of comparison and stimulation.
And my body compass went wonky.
I completely lost it.
I tried to dance recreationally at the athletic center, but the caliber of dancers around me felt so much higher that I felt silly and behind and not good enough.
So I quit.
And instead, I tried to control my body.
Food Obsession, Bingeing, Purging, and Shame
I didn’t know how to eat for myself.
Even though there was food in residence, you still had to choose:
when to eat
what to eat
how much to eat
when to stop
And I had never had to think about that.
I became obsessive about food and exercise.
And I started bingeing and purging.
I would binge on stressful days. I was lonely. I was overstimulated. I didn’t have the language for any of it.
I just thought there was something wrong with me.
I remember:
buying boxes of cookies and hiding them under my bed
eating them anyway
going to Starbucks 3–4 times in one day to buy giant macadamia nut cookies
eating my roommate’s entire leftover birthday cake and being deeply ashamed
And this is the part I want you to hear slowly:
I wasn’t undisciplined. I was completely dysregulated.
My body was in survival.
And we don’t make our best decisions in survival mode.
It wasn’t a lack of discipline that made me do those things.
It was dysregulation.
The First Step Toward Intuitive Eating
I saw a flyer on a corkboard at university and joined a research study in the nutrition department.
The professor referred me to a university nutrition student, and that was my first exposure to what we would now call intuitive eating.
Not as a trend. Not as an aesthetic strategy.
But as a way to rebuild trust with my body.
I still did food logs, but it wasn’t tracking. It was awareness.
It was the beginning of rebuilding trust.
Fitness Became My Career
(and Burnout Still Happened)
All throughout university, I became a group fitness junkie.
Then in my last year, I became a group fitness instructor.
After university, I moved back to northern BC to be with my now-husband Matt. I got a job related to journalism, and I taught fitness on the side.
It exploded.
Huge classes. Packed yoga. Workshops. Bootcamps.
I truly loved it.
Then we moved to Vancouver, and there was no question - this was my thing.
I hustled. I taught everywhere. I drove around with my speakers and yoga gear in my car.
And burnout quietly started.
Because knowing the body doesn’t automatically fix the nervous system.
Postpartum Anxiety, Overwhelm, and
Finally Getting Help
I became a registered massage therapist because I wanted to learn more about the body. I worked hard. Treated clients every spare hour.
Then I got pregnant.
Pregnancy was great. I trained consistently. I did everything “right.”
Postpartum, I returned to movement thoughtfully. Not rushing.
On paper? I was doing everything right.
But I developed postnatal anxiety, and I didn’t know what it was.
Then I entered a baby swap with a friend—we each watched two babies on alternating workdays.
Every hour was filled.
I was overwhelmed, overstimulated, and deeply ashamed that I couldn’t handle it.
That overwhelm eventually led me to coaching.
Coaching Gave Me Language
(and Changed Everything)
I had done therapy. Therapy is past-healing, deep dives.
Coaching was different.
Coaching was:
forward focused
tools-based
“Who do you want to be from here?”
Coaching gave me language for my thoughts. It helped me separate thoughts from truth. It gave me tools for anxiety. Permission to slow down.
It didn’t make life easy.
It made life survivable.
And I haven’t stopped receiving coaching since.
Nervous System Work: The Missing Piece
In 2022, I found nervous system work.
And it changed my life.
Not because it added more effort.
But because it removed the constant internal threat.
For the first time in my life:
my body felt safe
I stopped bracing for impact
I stopped feeling like everything was urgent
I finally understood my inconsistency wasn’t a character flaw
It was a nervous system trying to survive.
We moved again in 2025, and this time I wasn’t afraid of the grief.
I knew how to stay with it.
I felt it. I stayed with myself. I didn’t numb it. I didn’t abandon myself.
That is the work I do now.
If This Felt Familiar, Let It Land
If you can relate to any of this:
if you’ve spent months or years thinking you’re just inconsistent and something is wrong with you
If your body feels tense even when logically everything is fine
You don’t need more discipline or structure.
You need nervous system safety.
And you can build it.
It doesn’t take hours. It doesn’t require you to overhaul your whole life.
But it does require you to stay with yourself.
Before you go, I just want to say:
If something in this blog felt familiar or relieving or emotional in a way you didn’t expect… that’s not weakness.
That’s recognition.
Nothing here is meant to fix you or push you.
It’s meant to help you understand yourself with self-compassion,
more than self-blame.
You don’t need to do anything with this information right away.
Just let it land. Let your body catch up.
And when you’re ready, I’m here in your corner 💙
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