I’ve been thinking about how you tell the story of more than 60 years in 1,000 words. Where do you even begin? Because my life hasn’t followed a perfectly mapped-out path.
I’ve been married twice. I have two sons, a stepson and a stepdaughter. I’ve built businesses, changed direction more times than I can probably count, lived through loss, raised a family, navigated health challenges, supported thousands of people through change and somehow, through all of it, I have never stopped creating.
And now, in my 60s, I’m building something new again: Becoming Her.
Maybe that tells you almost everything you need to know about me. I have never believed we reach an age where we are finished becoming.
The Woman Who Showed Me What Was Possible
My mum was incredibly entrepreneurial. Looking back, I think so much of my drive came from watching her. She had ideas. She made things happen. She showed me, probably without ever realising it, that women could create their own opportunities.
I lost Mum when she was only 67. There are some losses that become part of you rather than something you simply “get over”, and losing my mum was one of those. Even now, there are moments when I desperately want to tell her something. I want to tell her about the businesses, the ideas, Bali and Becoming Her. I want to ask her questions I didn’t know I needed to ask when she was here. And sometimes I just want my mum.
I don’t have sisters either, and perhaps that has influenced another huge part of my life. I have gone out and found my own — women who inspire me, women I can laugh with, women who understand the messy bits, and women who challenge me, encourage me and remind me that we don’t have to do life alone.
Creating communities of women has become part of who I am.
I Was Never Very Good at Standing Still
If I look back over my life, there is a definite theme: movement, ideas, people and possibility.
I love creating something from nothing. Give me an idea, and my brain immediately starts racing ahead. What could this become? Who could we bring together? How could we make it better? How could this help someone?
I’ve never felt particularly comfortable inside rigid structures. I’ve always wanted to do things differently, question things, create things and find my own way. I’ve never been diagnosed, but I recognise so much of myself in conversations about ADHD and neurodiversity. My brain is busy. Very busy.
I can have ten ideas before breakfast. I can become incredibly excited about a new possibility and suddenly see the entire thing in my head. For years, perhaps I thought I should somehow tone that down.
Now? I see it as part of my superpower.
My Body Has Asked Me to Stop More Than Once
My story hasn’t only been about businesses, ideas and moving forward. There have been difficult parts too. I experienced sexual abuse from the age of nine. It is part of my story and part of what I have lived through, but it is not what defines me.
While my mind has always wanted to race forward, my body hasn’t always been quite so enthusiastic either.
I’ve had more surgeries than I care to count: around 14 procedures connected with endometriosis, a hysterectomy, two caesareans, pelvic floor issues, four shoulder surgeries.
Yet my pattern was nearly always the same: recover, get up, keep going, support everyone else and move on to the next thing. Resting has never come naturally to me. I was always the person checking everyone else was okay while probably ignoring the fact that I needed looking after too.
Sound familiar?
I think many women will recognise themselves in that. We become very good at carrying things families, careers, businesses, relationships, experiences from our past and other people’s expectations. Somewhere amongst all of that, we can forget to ask ourselves a very simple question: What do I need?
That question has become much more important to me as I’ve grown older.
Love the Second Time Around
I married twice, and my second marriage gave me something incredibly special: my rock, my rockstar.
Richard and I didn’t just meet and build a life together. We grew together. We work together, dream together and create together. We live and breathe two businesses, and somehow we still genuinely love talking about ideas, people and what’s next.
Our thinking has never been confined by geography. We think globally, we love what we do, and we absolutely love Bali.
Bali has become more than somewhere we visit. It gives me space. Something happens to me there. I walk more slowly. I notice things. I practise yoga. I watch the sunrise. I meet people. I have conversations I might never have at home.
And, inevitably, I create.
It was in Bali that the pieces of Becoming Her finally came together. Not because I suddenly became someone different. Quite the opposite. I realised that so many parts of my life had been leading me here.
Becoming Her
I’ve spent years working with people navigating careers, redundancy, reinvention and change. I’ve created communities, supported women, listened to hundreds of stories and watched women underestimate themselves, rediscover themselves and completely reinvent themselves.
And I’ve reinvented myself plenty of times too.
That’s why Becoming Her feels so personal. It’s not about me standing at the front saying, “I’ve worked it all out.” I haven’t. I don’t think any of us have.
It’s about creating a place where women can talk honestly about what comes next — career, menopause, purpose, identity, relationships, business, confidence, health, ageing, dreams we put away years ago and new dreams we haven’t even discovered yet.
And all those moments when you look at your life and quietly wonder: Who am I now?
And perhaps the even more exciting question: Who am I becoming?
At this stage of my life, I could choose to slow everything down. And yes, I am learning that rest matters. I am learning I don’t have to fill every space.
But slowing down doesn’t mean becoming smaller.
I still have ideas. I still get ridiculously excited when something I’ve imagined starts becoming real. I still want to connect people, build things and empower women. I still want adventures with my husband. I still want Bali sunsets, early morning coffees, yoga, laughter, family, grandchildren, businesses, conversations and probably another ten ideas before breakfast.
Because if more than 60 years have taught me anything, it’s this: we are never one finished version of ourselves.
We are shaped by the women who came before us, by the people we love and the people we lose. We are shaped by what happened to us, by our bodies, our mistakes, the things that didn’t work and the things that unexpectedly did. And we are shaped by the courage to keep asking what else might be possible.
I’m not interested in becoming younger.
I’m interested in becoming more me.
And I have a feeling I’m nowhere near finished yet.
This is my Becoming Her story.
And perhaps I’m only just getting started.
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I’ve been thinking about how you tell the story of more than 60 years in 1,000 words. Where do you even begin? Because my life hasn’t followed a perfectly mapped-out path.
I’ve been married twice. I have two sons, a stepson and a stepdaughter. I’ve built businesses, changed direction more times than I can probably count, lived through loss, raised a family, navigated health challenges, supported thousands of people through change and somehow, through all of it, I have never stopped creating.
And now, in my 60s, I’m building something new again: Becoming Her.
Maybe that tells you almost everything you need to know about me. I have never believed we reach an age where we are finished becoming.
The Woman Who Showed Me What Was Possible
My mum was incredibly entrepreneurial. Looking back, I think so much of my drive came from watching her. She had ideas. She made things happen. She showed me, probably without ever realising it, that women could create their own opportunities.
I lost Mum when she was only 67. There are some losses that become part of you rather than something you simply “get over”, and losing my mum was one of those. Even now, there are moments when I desperately want to tell her something. I want to tell her about the businesses, the ideas, Bali and Becoming Her. I want to ask her questions I didn’t know I needed to ask when she was here. And sometimes I just want my mum.
I don’t have sisters either, and perhaps that has influenced another huge part of my life. I have gone out and found my own — women who inspire me, women I can laugh with, women who understand the messy bits, and women who challenge me, encourage me and remind me that we don’t have to do life alone.
Creating communities of women has become part of who I am.
I Was Never Very Good at Standing Still
If I look back over my life, there is a definite theme: movement, ideas, people and possibility.
I love creating something from nothing. Give me an idea, and my brain immediately starts racing ahead. What could this become? Who could we bring together? How could we make it better? How could this help someone?
I’ve never felt particularly comfortable inside rigid structures. I’ve always wanted to do things differently, question things, create things and find my own way. I’ve never been diagnosed, but I recognise so much of myself in conversations about ADHD and neurodiversity. My brain is busy. Very busy.
I can have ten ideas before breakfast. I can become incredibly excited about a new possibility and suddenly see the entire thing in my head. For years, perhaps I thought I should somehow tone that down.
Now? I see it as part of my superpower.
My Body Has Asked Me to Stop More Than Once
My story hasn’t only been about businesses, ideas and moving forward. There have been difficult parts too. I experienced sexual abuse from the age of nine. It is part of my story and part of what I have lived through, but it is not what defines me.
While my mind has always wanted to race forward, my body hasn’t always been quite so enthusiastic either.
I’ve had more surgeries than I care to count: around 14 procedures connected with endometriosis, a hysterectomy, two caesareans, pelvic floor issues, four shoulder surgeries.
Yet my pattern was nearly always the same: recover, get up, keep going, support everyone else and move on to the next thing. Resting has never come naturally to me. I was always the person checking everyone else was okay while probably ignoring the fact that I needed looking after too.
Sound familiar?
I think many women will recognise themselves in that. We become very good at carrying things families, careers, businesses, relationships, experiences from our past and other people’s expectations. Somewhere amongst all of that, we can forget to ask ourselves a very simple question: What do I need?
That question has become much more important to me as I’ve grown older.
Love the Second Time Around
I married twice, and my second marriage gave me something incredibly special: my rock, my rockstar.
Richard and I didn’t just meet and build a life together. We grew together. We work together, dream together and create together. We live and breathe two businesses, and somehow we still genuinely love talking about ideas, people and what’s next.
Our thinking has never been confined by geography. We think globally, we love what we do, and we absolutely love Bali.
Bali has become more than somewhere we visit. It gives me space. Something happens to me there. I walk more slowly. I notice things. I practise yoga. I watch the sunrise. I meet people. I have conversations I might never have at home.
And, inevitably, I create.
It was in Bali that the pieces of Becoming Her finally came together. Not because I suddenly became someone different. Quite the opposite. I realised that so many parts of my life had been leading me here.
Becoming Her
I’ve spent years working with people navigating careers, redundancy, reinvention and change. I’ve created communities, supported women, listened to hundreds of stories and watched women underestimate themselves, rediscover themselves and completely reinvent themselves.
And I’ve reinvented myself plenty of times too.
That’s why Becoming Her feels so personal. It’s not about me standing at the front saying, “I’ve worked it all out.” I haven’t. I don’t think any of us have.
It’s about creating a place where women can talk honestly about what comes next — career, menopause, purpose, identity, relationships, business, confidence, health, ageing, dreams we put away years ago and new dreams we haven’t even discovered yet.
And all those moments when you look at your life and quietly wonder: Who am I now?
And perhaps the even more exciting question: Who am I becoming?
At this stage of my life, I could choose to slow everything down. And yes, I am learning that rest matters. I am learning I don’t have to fill every space.
But slowing down doesn’t mean becoming smaller.
I still have ideas. I still get ridiculously excited when something I’ve imagined starts becoming real. I still want to connect people, build things and empower women. I still want adventures with my husband. I still want Bali sunsets, early morning coffees, yoga, laughter, family, grandchildren, businesses, conversations and probably another ten ideas before breakfast.
Because if more than 60 years have taught me anything, it’s this: we are never one finished version of ourselves.
We are shaped by the women who came before us, by the people we love and the people we lose. We are shaped by what happened to us, by our bodies, our mistakes, the things that didn’t work and the things that unexpectedly did. And we are shaped by the courage to keep asking what else might be possible.
I’m not interested in becoming younger.
I’m interested in becoming more me.
And I have a feeling I’m nowhere near finished yet.
This is my Becoming Her story.
And perhaps I’m only just getting started.