Come Tribe With Me

A weekend in Venice with six of the friends I’ve known for almost twenty years.

We met when I was teaching English in Brighton - eleven of us, men and women from countries all over the world, ended up living together in one house. And somehow, two decades later, we’re still here. Still organising trips across continents. Still showing up to each other’s weddings, milestones, and harder seasons too.

I talk a lot on here about filling your own cup.

This weekend was that.

Not because I was in a beautiful city. Because I was with people who actually see me - who I don’t have to perform for. Who knew me before I knew myself.

That’s what nourishment looks like.
That’s what coming home feels like.

Real connection. Real laughter. The rare gift of being known. 🧡

The internet throws around “low contact” and “no contact” like everyone already knows. They don’t.

Low contact means staying in the relationship but changing the terms. Surface conversations only. Reduced availability. It’s not punishment - it’s protection while you do the inner work.

No contact is more complete - no communication for a defined period (or longer). Rarely a first step. It’s what some women arrive at when reduced contact still isn’t enough.

And the question I get most? How do I explain it to parents who won’t accept it?

You may not be able to make them understand. Because if they had the emotional capacity to truly hear it, you wouldn’t be needing this conversation in the first place.

So the goal isn’t to convince. It’s to be clear.

🧡 Save these - they’re here when you need them:

For introducing low contact:
“I love you, and I’m needing some space right now to focus on myself. I’m not going anywhere, I just need things to look different for a while.”

For something more direct:
“I’m not going to be as available as I used to be. This isn’t about you. It’s about what I need right now.”

For when they push back:
“I understand this is hard to hear. My answer is still the same.”

For when they demand an explanation:
“I don’t have a reason that will satisfy you. But this is what I’ve decided.”

For when they make it about them:
“I know this is painful. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to take care of myself.”

For no contact:
“I need to take some time and space to focus on my own healing. I’ll reach out when I’m ready.”

🧡

Whichever words you choose, the most important thing is what comes after.

You don’t justify.
You don’t defend.
You don’t apologise into a corner.

You hold the boundary. Calmly. Without drama.

Comment “space” if this is something you’re navigating 🧡follow for more on healing family patterns.

I got asked yesterday whether I’m a qualified psychologist or counsellor.

The honest answer is no. I’m a coach.

And I think it’s important to say that clearly, because the line between coaching and therapy gets blurred a lot online, and women deserve to know what they’re getting.

Therapists are trained for diagnosable mental health conditions, deep trauma, and crisis. That’s not the work I do, and when a woman needs that, I refer her on. Every time.

What I do is help women who are functioning but quietly suffering. People-pleasing. Self-abandoning. Stuck in family patterns they didn’t choose. I help them come home to themselves.

To do that work, I bring:

🧡 Seventeen years of teaching adults
🧡 Four years of my own deep personal work: talk therapy, schema therapy, life coaching
🧡 Formal life coach certification, and current training in trauma-informed work, because I want to keep deepening my skills

I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.
I’m a coach who’s lived this, and trained to guide other women through it.

If that’s the support you’re looking for, I’m here. If you need clinical care, I’ll always point you in the right direction.

Both are valid. Both are needed.

Knowing the difference is part of the work 🧡

The face. You know the one. 👀

‘Oh… you’re travelling again?’

For years that look used to get under my skin. I’d over-explain. Justify. Shrink.

Here’s what I know now:

→ Travel is one of my top 5 values. That’s where my money goes.
→ Other people’s discomfort with my choices isn’t mine to manage.
→ I don’t owe anyone a breakdown of my finances.
→ Living small to make others comfortable isn’t humility. It’s self-abandonment.

You’re allowed to spend your life on what lights you up.

Even if other people don’t get it 🧡

I thought my daughter might have PDA.

Turns out she just inherited my stubborn streak 😅

Here’s what I’m learning about raising a strong-willed child when you were a strong-willed child:

→ The path of least resistance isn’t giving in. It’s choosing your battles.
→ Pyjamas in the car isn’t failure. It’s flexibility.
→ Her ‘no’ matters. Even when it’s inconvenient.

Because the goal isn’t compliance.

The goal is raising a woman who knows her own mind.

Even when it’s exhausting

The honest truth about parenting no one talks about:

Some mornings you put your kid in the car in pajamas.

Some mornings you drive away wondering why you signed up for this.

And some mornings you remember: you get the kids you’re meant to get. Not the easy ones. The ones who are going to grow you.

That’s the work 🧡

I left home at 17. Work visa, new country, no fear.

Because home had never really felt like home.

I’d been at boarding school since 12. Leaving was something my body had already learned.

But now, as a parent, my son talks about all of us living together when he’s older. In a big house, with a garden. Like staying close is obvious.

That desire? I didn’t have it.

This isn’t about blame.
But when a child feels truly safe, they don’t spend their childhood planning their exit.

Healing is letting yourself see what was missing, and choosing to build something different.

🧡

The unspoken part of co-parenting - when kids and ‘me-time’ collide on the same beach 🌊 you can love your kids and still feel disappointed your moment got interrupted 🧡