MysticMag chats with Francesca Rose, a dedicated guide in eating disorder recovery, embodiment, and psychedelic integration, weaving together sacred plant medicine, somatic intelligence, and emotional resilience. Having transformed her own struggles with disordered eating and body image, she now supports heart-centered individuals in discovering nourishment for both body and soul. Through personalized coaching, support groups, and microdosing programs, Francesca empowers sensitive and spirited individuals to cultivate self-trust, embrace their inherent worthiness, and embark on a path of embodied transformation.
Your personal journey with an eating disorder and your transformative question—“What would it take for the eating disorder to let go of me?”—clearly informs your work. Can you share a specific turning point in your recovery and explain how it shapes your embodied, somatic approach today?
The turning point in my recovery came when I realized that overcoming an eating disorder wasn’t about fighting against it, but rather about creating a life where it no longer had space to exist. It wasn’t about restricting or fixing myself, but about embodying a way of being that naturally softened the ED voice, giving space for my authentic voice to be heard. Psychedelics and embodiment practices, in particular, helped me step into this truth—not by focusing on reducing or changing myself, but by adding the support and resources I needed to step more fully into my authenticity.
Through my own journey of witnessing the fragmented parts of myself, the places shrouded in shame, and learning to turn toward them with compassion, I discovered the power of self-acceptance. Practicing compassion—both as a tool and a way of being—alongside curiosity allowed me to reclaim those lost pieces of myself. I’ve come to see eating disorder recovery not as a process of doing more, but as a transformation of how we show up and who we become. It’s about practicing vulnerability, expressing our needs and boundaries, and cultivating a deeper sense of safety within ourselves.
An eating disorder thrives on contraction—on making us smaller, fragmenting us, and pulling us away from our wholeness. In contrast, embodiment is expansive. Recovery is about stepping into the fullness of who we are and meeting life with increasing presence and openness. It’s not about striving or doing more, but about softening the edges, allowing that fullness to meet us. As we shift our relationship with ourselves, the grip of the eating disorder loosens—not through force, but through an inside-out transformation.
Embodied eating disorder recovery places the body’s wisdom at the forefront. How do you guide clients to decode their body’s messages, moving from disordered behaviors to a place of intuitive nourishment and self-trust?
Learning the language of the body feels like reconnecting with a long-lost friend. The language of the mind is one we know well—it consists of thoughts, beliefs, and narratives. But the body speaks in sensations, movements, and emotions—a language we were born fluent in but often lose touch with as life distances us from it. From this perspective, I see eating disorders not merely as coping mechanisms, but as the body’s way of communicating something essential. When words fail, when emotions remain unspoken, the body speaks through eating disorder behaviors, expressing a deep need for safety and connection—an attempt to process what has not yet been fully digested.
Rather than viewing recovery as a process of restriction or elimination, we can begin to ask: What is the body trying to tell me? By learning to understand its language, we can listen to what lies beneath the eating disorder—what it is trying to protect, what it needs to feel safe and free. This shift allows us to build a relationship with the body, to see it as a resource rather than something to control. Instead of outsourcing our sense of security to external rules, we can turn inward, attuning to our body’s innate wisdom. Relearning this language takes patience, as the body speaks in a nonlinear way, requiring trust and a willingness to surrender to the process. Yet in doing so, a new reality begins to emerge, and the path to recovery becomes clearer.
In my experience, most enduring eating disorders stem from early developmental trauma—often from the preverbal stages of life. It may not always be about what happened but rather about what was missing—the moments of attunement that never came. In that emptiness, an eating disorder can later arise as an attempt to fill the gap, to try to create something of substance to hold on to where there was once a void. Understanding this deeper root can transform the way we approach healing, shifting the focus from mere symptom management to a profound reconnection with the self.
You integrate psychedelic experiences and microdosing as catalysts for healing. Can you elaborate on how these plant medicines support somatic realignment and what protocols you follow to ensure safe preparation and effective integration?
Psychedelics, such as psilocybin, offer a unique gift in the recovery process by enhancing creative and cognitive flexibility. Eating disorders often keep individuals stuck in deeply ingrained patterns, but psychedelics can help loosen these rigid loops, allowing for the exploration of new ways of being. They provide a glimpse into an identity beyond the eating disorder and a life free from its constraints. While these substances do not do the work for us, they can catalyze change, illuminating a path forward. In some cases, they offer a direct experience of liberation, safety, and self-acceptance—an embodied imprint that serves as a lifeline in the recovery journey.
Psychedelics also bring us closer to our truth, aligning with the innate intelligence of the body, which is deeply rooted in love. However, they are not a quick fix; their effectiveness is maximized when paired with clear intention, thorough preparation, a safe journeying environment, and mindful integration. Recovery is multilayered—it extends beyond food and involves nourishing all aspects of the self. In fact, I often prefer the term nourishment disorder over eating disorder because healing is not just about addressing food-related behaviors but also about restoring connection—to ourselves, to others, and to life itself.
From a shamanic perspective, eating disorders stem from spiritual starvation – a hunger for deeper meaning and connection. This perspective resonates deeply. Psychedelics can facilitate healing by helping us remember our inherent belonging, worthiness, and right to exist fully. The wisdom they reveal is not something external; it has always been within us, simply waiting to be uncovered.
That said, safety is paramount, particularly for individuals with a history of malnutrition or physiological imbalances due to an eating disorder. Thoughtful consideration of physical well-being, emotional readiness, and proper support systems is essential. Many individuals struggling with eating disorders feel profoundly alone, unable to share their experiences. Having a strong support network—both during and after the journey—is crucial for integrating new insights and sustaining transformation. These principles apply not only to high-dose psychedelic experiences but also to microdosing, which can offer subtle yet powerful shifts in perception and self-connection over time.
Your practice is grounded in a trauma-informed, HAES-sensitive, and anti-diet philosophy. How do these principles influence your coaching methods, and what long-term benefits have you observed in clients who embrace this holistic approach?
At the heart of my work is the belief that healing is about befriending ourselves—deepening our self-compassion and self-trust each day. Disordered eating and eating disorders are never just about food; beneath these patterns lie the stories we carry, the shame we hold, and the traumas and emotions that remain undigested. These behaviors often serve as deeply ingrained protective mechanisms we have learned along the way.
A trauma-informed approach is essential because working in the eating disorder field means working with trauma—often early developmental trauma. This is a preverbal space, where a person may not have had the words to articulate their experience because they were too young at the time. This is why a somatic approach is so crucial. Many individuals with eating disorders are not fully physically nourished, making it difficult to engage in purely cognitive, top-down approaches. A bottom-up, body-first approach—one that prioritizes safety and reconnection with bodily sensations—can be incredibly valuable. Of course, cognitive work has its place, but balancing the two approaches allows for a more holistic path to healing.
For many clients, recovery also involves peeling back the layers of cultural conditioning. Diet culture acts as a veil, obscuring our inherent worthiness. It dictates what is “right” to eat, how we should look, and how we should move, often setting us up for comparison and self-judgment. It distracts us from our own inner knowing. My work moves away from rigid plans and rules and instead creates space for clients to discover their own truth. Health is not a one-size-fits-all concept—it is deeply individual. Outward appearances do not always reflect inner well-being; someone who looks “healthy” by societal standards may be deeply struggling.
I am continually in inquiry about what health means for me at different stages of life, and I walk alongside my clients in this process of deconditioning. Diet culture is like the water we swim in, often unseen but ever-present. Bringing awareness to it helps us step into empowerment and reclaim autonomy over our bodies and our healing. It is entirely possible to choose not to subscribe to that mentality—to define health, nourishment, and well-being on our own terms.
You co-create personalized healing roadmaps with your clients, whether in one-on-one sessions or group programs.
Can you describe your process—from establishing trust to refining a recovery plan—and how you tailor it to meet the diverse needs of those you serve?
I start with listening—deep listening. And then I listen some more. Every spirited, sensitive, creative human I work with already holds the medicine they are seeking. They are their own teacher, their own textbook, their own laboratory. My role is to help them uncover, discover, and recover that inner wisdom. This requires attunement, deep presence, and trust. Trust is built through attunement, curiosity, compassion, and the willingness to listen without rushing to fix or prescribe.
Recovery is not linear; it is a spiral, a creative process unique to each person’s journey toward authenticity. It is not about following a rigid plan but about uncovering what truly resonates and inspires healing. It is less about me knowing the answers and more about fostering a space where each person can connect with their own truth.
At its core, recovery is relational. It is about connection—the connection we cultivate with ourselves, our bodies, our emotions, our relationships, the natural world, and food. Healing is not about being given a set of instructions; it is about deepening our relationships and trust within ourselves.
With clients, we co-create a roadmap for healing—one that feels sustainable, supportive, and rooted in trust. True empowerment comes not from the idea that “everything will be fine no matter what,” but from the deep knowing that “whatever arises, I trust that I can meet it.” This work is about building resilience and inner strength, expanding the edges of what feels possible, and stepping into unknown spaces where real growth happens.
An eating disorder wants to keep a person small, trapped in the familiar. But when someone feels safe—when they know they are witnessed and supported—they can step into those unknown spaces, grow, heal, and transform. There is no quick fix. Healing is about building a relationship with our bodies, our emotions, and our deepest needs.
If you would like to find out more about Francesca Rose, please visit https://www.francescaeatsroses.com/
