Want to know a little more about me? 1. I was born on International Women’s Day. It wasn’t lost on me. It’s shaped how I advocate for stories that often go untold—and why I believe visibility matters, especially when it hasn’t always been offered. 2. I was born in North Wales, surrounded by sea, stone, and stories. That landscape shaped how I see people—layers, texture, and quiet strength. It’s why I believe every story is worth pulling into the light. 3. My mum taught me that contributing meaningfully to others is always worth it. She worked with people who had become unhoused, and through her charitable work in Oxford, the organisation she supported named a building after her when she passed. Her legacy speaks for itself. 4. Growing up, I was a gymnast, dancer, singer, ice skater, swimmer, in the choir, and a Girl Guide. I signed up for everything—and stayed curious about what I could do next. That same energy still fuels how I help people explore who they are now, and who they want to become. 5. Growing up, I wanted to be a florist and write books. I’ve always been drawn to colour, structure, and stories. Turns out, shaping people’s careers isn’t that far off—you're still arranging details into something meaningful and worth showing the world. 6. I studied fashion and art. That background gave me an eye for shape, tone, and visual language—skills I still use when helping clients align their words with how they want to show up. 7. I’m a certified yoga and meditation teacher. It taught me how to hold space, ask better questions, and listen beyond what’s being said. That skill shows up in every session I run. 8. I learned to windsurf in Bonaire. It was chaotic, humbling, and addictive. There’s something about learning to balance in motion that mirrors how people navigate career shifts—and I think about that often. 9. I was once addicted to yoga retreats. I craved the stillness, the structure, and the sense of reset. Now I try to build that same clarity into the way I help people shape their next chapter. 10. I once lived in an ashram in Kerala, South India, for three weeks—with my mum. It was quiet, intense, and unlike anything I’d known. That time taught me what it means to listen inward before speaking outward.