The real introduction.

I'm a working-class girl from Birmingham who spent most of my life as the people-pleaser who always paid. To the outside world I was smashing it, living the high life in Brighton, then running an accounts department while solo parenting: the ultimate Miss Independent. Inside, I was falling apart.

In April 2019 I hit the wall. Burnt out and completely cut off from myself.

So I threw thousands of pounds at healing, on therapy and retreats. Seven years in this industry have taught me I didn't need half of it, and that plenty of people in wellness will happily sell you a dream that never delivers.

But something did shift. Not because one thing fixed me, but because I finally had the language for what was going on, something a lot of working class women never get the chance to receive, and I was introduced to healing that actually worked.

Choosing the wrong men, always being the one who paid, working myself into the ground, staying in relationships that were slowly killing me. I hated those patterns until I understood them. My nervous system kept choosing what felt familiar, because to my body familiar meant safe, even when it was hurting me.

A nervous system can learn something new. You just have to go into the crap you're carrying and actually move it.

I want every woman to break out of the box she was shoved into and build a life she actually wants to wake up to, not one spent chained to a job she hates.

You won't leave a session or a course with me feeling small. Ever.

I swear like a trooper and I'm never serious for long, which might be why one of my friends calls me a spiritual gangster. My daughter says I'm funny and kind, and my mum says I'm hardworking and far too trusting (very true!).