About

There was a time in my life when survival was all I knew.

At 26, I stood in the wreckage of a failed marriage, divorced with three children under five and a newborn in my arms. As a mother, I was strong. In reality, I was hanging on by a thread.

Every day was a battle. I moved through the motions of motherhood while inside I was unravelling. Panic, fear, dread anxiety made my chest feel like it was caving in most days. Depression whispered that nothing would ever change. Stress sat in my body like poison. It was an intoxicating cocktail that left me sick, hollow, and questioning whether I could survive it all. In the midst of this I was running a successful photography business and singing in a band, burning my already flickering candle from both ends.

When I met my now husband 5 years later, something shifted. For the first time I had a safe space to fall apart. Healing didn’t arrive with a single moment of clarity. It came in fragments, sitting with the pain, facing the trauma I had buried, unravelling the lies that told me I wasn’t enough. It came in learning to stop people pleasing and sacrificing myself at every turn.

But life wasn’t finished breaking me open. Together we had a son, and his birth nearly cost me my life. That near death experience forced me to go even deeper into my triggers, into the hidden corners of grief and fear, into the raw question of who I really was. And then came another blow: losing my beautiful mum, Wendy, to pancreatic cancer. Grief doesn’t politely knock, it tears through and leaves nothing untouched. Her loss reshaped me in ways I’ll never stop carrying.

I share this because I want you to know I’ve been where you are. I know the darkness of not recognising yourself anymore. I know what it feels like to keep showing up with mask after mask while inside you’re silently falling apart. I know the weight of pretending you’re fine when you’re anything but.

Everything I do now is rooted in those years. I create the support I once longed for. Because when I was in the thick of it, there was no map, no safe hand to hold, no peace. So I tell my story in the hope that you find what I once couldn’t, a way to turn inward, to sit with your pain, to name it, to rewrite it, and eventually to see beauty in the person you are becoming.

That is why I created The Hope Deck, a set of affirmations to guide you back to yourself when life feels impossible.

My BIG PLANS FOR 2026 is stepping into new seasons of sharing, launching my podcast Seasons of Her Soul, creating a new deck called The Soul Deck, and one day writing my book to tell this story in full.

This is my mission: to stand with you in the places that hurt, to remind you that you are not alone, and to show you that even in your deepest pain, there is always a way back to your peace.