Many of us are carrying far more than we let others see. We are living through uncertain times, navigating personal losses and collective challenges, while often trying to hold everything together. In the midst of this, it can be easy to become disconnected from ourselves, to ignore our needs, or to believe we should simply push through.
I offer a warm, grounded, and compassionate space where you can explore who you are, what matters to you, and how you might live more fully in alignment with those things.
At the heart of my work is a simple but deeply held belief: healing begins when you learn to meet yourself with tenderness, curiosity, and compassion. When the parts of you that feel frightened, exhausted, ashamed, angry, or forgotten are welcomed rather than judged, something can soften. From that place, you can begin to make sense of your experiences, reconnect with what matters most, and discover a way of living that feels more authentic, meaningful, and true to who you are.
I am particularly passionate about supporting people who have always felt a little outside the mainstream. This might include highly sensitive people, those living with chronic illness, neurodivergent people, people navigating grief, peri-menopause, life transitions, questions around identity or sexuality, or anyone carrying a sense that the life they have been living no longer reflects who they are becoming.
Many of us have been taught that sensitivity is a weakness, something to overcome or hide. My experience has been quite the opposite. Sensitivity can be a profound source of wisdom, creativity, connection, and strength when we learn how to work with it rather than against it.
Together, we can create space to listen more deeply to what your experiences might be asking of you.
My work is informed by reflective writing, dreamwork, nature-based practices, and a deep respect for the wisdom that already exists within you. I am interested not only in what has happened to you, but also in the stories you carry, the parts of yourself that may have been left behind, and the possibilities that emerge when you begin to pay attention in new ways.
I also hold space for mystery. There are moments in life that cannot always be explained or neatly understood, yet they can offer profound insight, meaning, and connection when approached with curiosity and care. Sometimes our dreams, our bodies, the natural world, or a quiet inner knowing can reveal something that our thinking mind has not yet found words for.
Equally, animals have been some of my greatest teachers. Sharing life with beloved companions has deepened my understanding of attachment, presence, love, and loss. I know how profound the bond between humans and animals can be, and how deeply their absence can be felt. For many people, pet bereavement is a grief that is not always fully recognised or understood by those around them, yet it can touch every part of our lives and sense of self.
If something here resonates, I would be delighted to hear from you.
About me
Looking back, I see that my path into this work began when I was a young carer for my grandmother, an experience that shaped my understanding of care, responsibility, and human vulnerability from an early age.
In my twenties, I trained in person-centred counselling skills and discovered a deep trust in each person’s innate capacity for growth and healing. Since then, my work has been enriched by ongoing study and personal exploration, including ecology and psychotherapy, women’s cyclical hormonal wisdom, writing, and a three-year immersive training in eco-shamanism.
I have led therapy clinics and community projects across Cheshire, helping thousands of people access the support they needed. During the pandemic, I secured National Lottery funding to create welcoming spaces for people experiencing loneliness and isolation, including women who had fled the war in Ukraine.
Alongside my therapeutic work, I am also a writer and storyteller. I have ghostwritten books on subjects including trauma, mindfulness, climate change, dog-centred care, and food.
I also live with a chronic illness called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), which has shaped my understanding of sensitivity, not as a weakness, but as a source of wisdom, creativity, connection, and how to belong to my own life. EDS taught me what it means to move through the world differently and strengthened my belief that there is no single “right” way to be.