
But when I became a mother, everything changed. I chose to walk away from a career I had worked hard to build, not out of failure or regret, but because I wanted to be fully present for my family.
That choice, while deeply right, marked the beginning of a long journey back to myself.
I had survived sexual abuse as a child, experienced racism and school bullying, verbal abuse at work, emotional abuse within my marriage, financial collapse through divorce, chronic health challenges, and the deep loneliness of being a single mother of two, trying to hold everything together. There were moments when I was not sure I could keep going, when the pain and pressure became so heavy that I questioned the value of continuing at all.
Yet in the darkest places, I heard a quiet inner voice that would not let go. It pushed me to go deeper into shadow work, to face the most uncomfortable and frightening parts of myself. It asked me to sit with what I had avoided, to look honestly in the mirror, to acknowledge my ancestral burdens, vows and contracts, observe, accept, forgive, release, understand how my thoughts affected my reality and ultimately be reborn inside out. I could not be who I am today without having walked that path.
Seventeen years on, I'm a professional certified coach (PCC/icf). I trained in Akashic reading, Reiki, Sound Healing, Aromatherapy, Mindfulness, Meditation, and Ayurvedic bodywork because I realised a lot of what we carry lives in the body and our energy field. I've worked with several hundred people since. I have come to understand the importance of holding space that is calm, respectful, and steady. A space where there is no need for performance, explanation, or pretence.
Through my own journey, I came to realise that this work is not about fixing what is broken.
It is about returning to what is true.
I've done this work in my own life, not only studied it in someone else's. The over-functioning, the performing, the quiet collapse nobody else could see, I know those from the inside. I don't say that to set myself apart. I say it because it means I'm not asking you to do anything I haven't had to do myself, more than once, before any of it got easier.