A bit about me
Why I became a therapist
I didn't become a therapist because I've always had all the answers.
I became one because I'm fascinated, by why we feel the way we do, why some experiences stay with us for years, and why we can understand something logically yet still find it incredibly difficult to change how we feel.
For more than 20 years I've worked with children, young people, adults and families. As a teacher, I saw children who were anxious, angry, quiet, perfectionistic, desperate to please or struggling to fit in. Often, the behaviour everyone could see was only a tiny part of what was happening underneath.
And I've seen how those experiences don't necessarily disappear when we become adults.
The child who learnt to keep everybody happy can become the adult who can't say no.
The child who never felt quite good enough can become the adult who achieves and achieves but still feels like they're failing.
The child who learnt not to make a fuss can become the adult who struggles to ask for anything they need.
That is a huge part of why I do this work.
I want therapy to be somewhere you can become curious about yourself rather than constantly criticising yourself.
I'm too much
I'm just not good enough.
And yes, I understand some of this personally too
My professional training matters enormously to me, but it isn't the only thing I bring into the therapy room.
My own life has also taught me that childhood experiences don't simply disappear because we grow up. They can influence how we see ourselves, what we tolerate from other people, how easily we trust, whether we feel able to say no and even whether we believe our own needs matter.
I know the difference between understanding something intellectually and actually feeling different.
That understanding has shaped the therapist I am. It is one of the reasons I care so much about looking beyond what's happening on the surface and understanding the person underneath.
You don't have to tell your whole story immediately. You don't have to protect me from the difficult bits. And you don't have to make what happened sound better — or worse — than it was.
You can just start where you are.