“You’re Selfish”
At 18, I left to go to university in Manchester to study Zoology. 🦋 My mum cried because it wasn’t Oxbridge.
At 21, I met my future husband, moved to London and got my first job in admin.
At 23, I travelled in Southern and Eastern Africa for six months. 🐆
At 27, I bought my first flat with my ex. I was proud, though my mum cried because we didn’t marry first.
At 28, I was made redundant with 500 others in the dot-com boom (and bust). It was my last ‘proper’ job.
At 29, I married my ex-husband. Not long after, we scattered the ashes of my first baby, Rosie (genetics). 💔
At 31, my daughter Grace was born and I felt like the luckiest woman alive, though I developed sciatica that lasted five years. I trained as a counsellor.
At 33, baby Holly died in my arms just after she was born (more genetics). I qualified as a counsellor, and moved to Prague in the Czech Republic for a change of scene with my small, wounded family, where I worked as a counsellor.
At 35, I moved back to the UK as we divorced. I started making and selling jewellery alongside my therapy work.
At 39, I completed a long, Masters program in psychotherapy. I didn’t like the way they looked down on their clients, I was outspoken, and I got bullied.
At 44, I continued working as a therapist, and my silver jewellery became popular. I reached 11,000 followers on Instagram.
At 46, I developed long Covid and stopped working as a therapist, and followed my dream to write. And I got Pepper. 🐶
At 47, I wrote an online course, the Therapy Toolbox. With no marketing or budget, it was a flop, though those who took it loved it.
At 48, I published my children’s novel on Amazon after 2 years writing it. I joined the ADHD assessment waiting list. (Still waiting!)
At 49, I started my Substack, Letters From Therapy this year, to still be of service, growing to 1000 subscribers in 6 months.
At 50, my gorgeous daughter left for Uni. I love her so much! Things are wide open for me. I am pretty sure my future involves Substack. 🧡
Thanks for the nudge ✨
