Kind of ironic since I’ve been avoiding my own story most of my life…
No one gives a shit if I label myself a Writer. Or Story Alchemist. Or Eternal Optimist.
You just want the juice.
But how do I condense my life into a few paragraphs that actually relate to why you’re even here?
Considering I’ve been immersed in stories since I was old enough to escape into their wonder it’s no surprise I now do it for a living (although these days I prefer real stories because what humans are capable of never ceases to amaze me.)
This obsession with the written word came into this life with me. The sort of intuitive writing that makes a six year old scribble cheeky prose under the kitchen table, that can only be refined, not learned.
And refined it has been, which is where the real juice is.
In the tragedy-filled pages of a scruffy journal.
The drunken poetic scrawl on napkins & beer coasters in the far reaches of the outback.
The tear-smudged ink to my best friend after watching her die. The self-loathing and gut-wrenching guilt that came from not knowing how to save her.
And in the train wreck that followed.
The wild child abandon, where I completely abandoned myself.
When you lose your licence while masquerading as a senior journalist in the ego-driven studios of commercial radio it’s pretty easy to feel like a fraud.
Reciting others’ stories as ‘news’ to thousands of eager listeners who hung on to every word of a stranger’s life, while I completely denied mine.
I longed to escape. And for the first time in my life, I ditched the mind-numbing substances and escaped into my own story.
Thankfully my soul led the way, and she was fierce!
She took away my archaic fear of opening my heart, shining light on the parts of myself I was unable to love, that I’d hidden even from myself.
So I faced it, wrote it, felt it all, published it, and with nothing left to lose handed a copy to my mother.
For me it was the inevitable unravelling.
I’d become known as a genius at helping others share their stories, but writing & sharing my own opened up an entirely new realm, showing me how impactful it can truly be if we’re willing enough to go there, whether it’s for a book or a bio.
Because having to revisit & actually own all those moments that make up who you are & what you stand for takes courage. And not owning it just isn’t an option for the women I serve. They’re done with the boring AF fluffy list of accolades that sell them short.
Being a Journo gave me the skills to interview and uncover a story. A Copywriter, the skills to sell it. Mentoring from a Neuroscientist, the skills to use my obsession with the brain, emotions, and universal laws to blend it all with the energetic power of words too.
Words that can be felt.
Personality-driven words for women igniting their own inner revolution, because they know that creates change way bigger than themselves
And my story… well, that grounded everything I now stand for.
Presence. Truth. Connection.
And unapologetically raising the vibrational frequency of words and language.
Because writing for me isn’t just a title I sprinkle on my socials. It’s my fucking life.
My Approach
Well, Let’s just say it’s unorthodox
But there’s method to the madness & my now incredibly open heart is always along for the ride.
It’s intuitive, encouraging, could potentially stretch you beyond your wildest imagination, & we’ll probably end up besties.