The First Steps……

Trust. If I were to sum up who I am in a single word, that would be it. It has taken me a long time to understand and fully accept this about myself. So, why share this with you? I hope to earn your trust, as trust is essential in the journey you are about to embark on. Whether you're just beginning to explore your true self or have already made strides in that direction, trust—both in yourself and in those you choose to guide you—is often the smallest yet most challenging step you will take.

In the coming posts, I will share my story—unfiltered, raw, and sincere. My aim is to build your confidence in my honesty, my intentions, and my methods. I hope my journey will inspire you to embark on your own. You'll come to see that even in the most difficult times, when your heart is broken, and when you feel as though you’re at the lowest point, there is always light. That light is you.

My story is not extraordinary, nor does it resemble a dramatic tragedy, but it is real. Others may have experienced something similar, worse, or perhaps nothing like it at all. Each of us has our own unique story and motivation. This is mine.

Growing up, my life was fairly typical. I remember walking to school through what felt like endless snow, and I was fortunate enough to receive the iconic Barbie Dream House with a working lift. I’d also record the latest chart hits on a cassette from Radio 1, expertly pausing the tape before the DJ spoke—an invaluable skill I hope makes a comeback (unlike shell suits, which can stay in the '80s).

So, how did a seemingly average girl from the Midlands become who I am today? If I could tell you that one day I woke up feeling surrounded by my spirit guides and that the universe was effortlessly bending to my will, I would. But that’s not my reality. It took years of heartache and inner work to find the peace and acceptance I now carry.

There is nothing remarkable about my story on the surface. I grew up as an only child, had a few relationships, attended school and college, married, had children, worked full-time, and lived a life that many would consider typical: a mortgage, dinner on the table, and a routine existence.

Then, after the birth of my youngest child, the façade I had been living behind crumbled. And I mean crumbled—not just a small slip, but a landslide. For over ten years, I had been in a controlling and emotionally abusive relationship. While there were no physical scars, my mind and spirit were broken. I had lost trust in my own thoughts, struggled to make decisions, and poured all my energy into avoiding conflict. What little was left was used to shield my older children from the truth of our reality. It wasn’t until 2017, when my youngest was born, that I began to realize something had shifted.

My birth experience was traumatic, requiring significant medical intervention. Though I am forever grateful to the incredible staff at Poole Hospital for their care, I left the hospital exhausted and physically depleted. A few days later, I was expected to host a BBQ and party for my in-laws. It was at that moment that I realized something inside me had changed. Fast forward to New Year’s Eve 2017, and as I juggled the responsibilities of parenting, cleaning, and hosting, I discovered an affair. I had known something was wrong, but the realization hit me like a freight train. Despite doing everything, supporting everything, and holding it all together, I wasn’t enough.

Confronting my partner brought the first true taste of fear. In that moment, I felt as though I had lost everything, only to be told that it was my fault for having children and changing, quickly escalating into accusations that I was imagining things and needed to see a doctor. So, I did. At that point, I wasn’t sure what was real anymore, and my mental state was deteriorating. I was prescribed medication and sent on my way. I became numb. Numb to the insults, the affairs, the restriction of my freedom, the withholding of affection, and the emotional and physical abuse. It all became my new normal.

It wasn’t until my eldest daughter, at 15 years old, moved in with my parents in the midst of her exams, refusing to live with him anymore, that I found the strength to open my eyes. Her courage forced me to face the truth. That moment became my turning point. I finally told him that I could not live with a monster any longer. The words poured out of me like a dam had broken, and I was overwhelmed with memories of all the pain. It sickened me that I had allowed not only myself but also my children to endure such treatment. The events that followed were not easy, but I survived. There was no going back.

The next several months were intense and challenging. With few friends or support systems, the journey was tough. But my determination to change pushed me forward. In early 2024, my body could no longer cope with the stress, and I reached a breaking point. I sought help from my GP, was signed off work, and placed on a waiting list for counseling. I followed all the recommended steps, and it was during this time that I discovered meditation. Through guided meditations, I was able to navigate the days without feeling completely overwhelmed.

I continued attending therapy, taking my prescribed medication, and slowly, I began to heal. It was not an easy road, but I started to think more clearly. I ventured deeper into spirituality, mindfulness, and personal development. Attending women's circles, sound baths, and meditation groups provided me with a safe space that I had long been craving. These experiences expanded my perspective and deepened my understanding.

Today, I am no longer living in fear. The guilt I once carried has lessened, and I am setting goals and looking forward to a brighter future. While my past will always be a part of me, I have made peace with it—most of the time. I am still on my journey, and there is much more for me to learn.

I continue to take the medication prescribed in 2024, and I wholeheartedly recommend seeking professional support if you find yourself in a dark place. Though it may feel daunting, reaching out for help can provide the breathing room you need to make meaningful change. The combination of conventional and holistic methods has been incredibly effective for me, but always consult a GP first; their support can make a world of difference.

This is my story. It’s not perfect, but it’s real. Like all of us, I have both good days and bad days. The key is how we approach them. If you take away one thing from my story, let it be this: there is always a way forward, and you have the power to shape your path