Hello,

Let me take you back to a morning I’ll never forget. I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling like a stranger in my own life. My children, who had once needed me for everything, were becoming more independent, and while that should’ve been a relief, it left me with a quiet, gnawing emptiness. My days felt like a blur, my relationship was hanging by a thread, and every morning in the mirror, I’d see someone I barely recognised staring back at me. Honestly, I looked like the aftermath of a reality show called ‘What Happens When Mum Puts Herself Last for 20 Years’.

I was at my heaviest weight, exhausted, overwhelmed, and thinking to myself, ‘Is this it? Is this really all there is?’ I had two choices: stay where I was or change. And as a mother and daughter, I knew I couldn’t just throw in the towel. But what could I do?

I decided to start with something simple, something that had once lit me up—writing. So, I signed up for an online creative writing course, secretly wondering if it would be yet another New Year’s resolution I’d abandon by February. But two years later, I’d rediscovered parts of myself I thought were long gone. Writing became my escape, my passion, my reminder that I still had dreams—and that they mattered.

Encouraged, I booked myself on a retreat to finish my manuscript, thinking, ‘I’m finally getting my life back on track!’ But life had other plans. My relationship finally broke down, and suddenly I found myself with more questions than answers. Instead of collapsing, I packed my rucksack and set off alone on the 800+ km pilgrimage across the Northern part of Spain, Camino de Santiago de Compostella. That’s right, just me, my 10-pound backpack, and over 800 kilometres of trail. I cried my way through every blister, and somewhere along that path, I started to let go of the old stories I’d been holding onto.

When I came home, I knew I wanted a different kind of support, so I found a divorce coach, someone who guided me towards the future instead of digging through the past. The experience was transformative; it shifted my whole perspective on so many levels, most importantly it made me realise that I am very much connected to the universe and that there is power and excitement in giving, in sharing our passions and talents. And so much joy. And right then, I realised I wanted to help other women feel this kind of liberation too. 

And so I didn’t stop there. At 53, I took up surfing—proof that you’re never too old, and that it’s OK to look ridiculous on a surfboard if it means discovering a part of yourself you didn’t know existed. At 57, I became a WildFit coach after discovering how incredible it felt to take back control of my health. Each of these experiences taught me that limits are often just ideas, things we’re conditioned to believe.

Then, at 58, I decided to try icy river dipping—yes, willingly plunging into freezing water! Every time I jump in, my body screams, ‘You can’t do this!’ And every time I emerge, I feel more resilient, more alive, more connected to my own strength than ever.