I have always been fascinated by people. Not just their faces or their names, but the hidden chapters, setbacks and all the things that made them who they are. That curiosity has been the quiet thread running through every stage of my life.
In my twenties I worked as cabin crew for British Airways, where I discovered just how much I loved hearing people’s stories. That love of human connection eventually became a calling. I wanted to understand people not just instinctively, but properly, with knowledge to support it. So, I made it official and studied psychology. It felt like finally learning the language I’d always been speaking.
Then came the chapter I didn’t choose, but that changed the way I had taken my physical health for granted. When my children were small, I became unwell. Persistent stomach problems that left me exhausted and searching for answers. After nearly two years of investigations, I was diagnosed with coeliac disease, though recently, after all that time, I’ve discovered that diagnosis wasn’t correct after all. Whatever the cause, that long and uncertain journey gave me something profound: a deeply personal understanding of how tightly mental and physical wellbeing are woven together. Anxiety lives in the gut. Stress inflames the body. Healing one often requires tending to the other.
When my children went to school and I was starting to feel semi-well again, I moved into teaching A-Level Psychology and loved it. But over time, I began to notice something I couldn’t ignore, so many of my students were not flourishing, physically or mentally. And quietly, honestly, neither was I. I could feel myself approaching burnout. The very thing I was seeing in the young people in front of me was happening inside me too.
That moment of recognition was a turning point. I made the decision to leave teaching and retrain as a coach and study Positive Psychology, and it was one of the best decisions I have ever made. That experience of overwhelm gave me not just empathy, but real insight into what people need when they are running low.
Today, my work centres on resilience and growth. Much of it is with resident doctors, teachers and professional women, remarkable, selfless people who are quietly at risk of burning out. My passion is meeting people before they hit a wall, walking alongside them, and helping them rediscover their strength, because everyone deserves support, not only when they are really struggling but long before it ever gets to that point.