I’m a Holistic Counsellor, Wellbeing Coach, and Business Mentor, writer, podcast host, multi-biz owner, and a mum and wife.

I’ve taken a unique path, balancing many roles and wearing all the hats, but they all share a common thread: my commitment to self-development, healing, and helping others do the same.

I sometimes call my story an unfortunate series of events. Not because I’m trying to make light of it, but because when I look back, it really does feel like one thing after another. And for a long time, it shaped how I saw myself, how I loved, how I coped and what I believed I deserved.

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My dad chose not to be part of my life before I was even born. I never knew him, but his absence still had an impact. Not in one dramatic moment, but in the smaller ways that absence can shape a child. The little questions that form early. The belief that maybe you weren’t worth choosing. I was raised by a single mum who carried so much. There was love in our home, but there was also stress, tension and unmet emotional needs. As I got older, our relationship became strained and I learned to rely on myself early. Far earlier than a kid should.

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At 14, I was kicked out of home. I stayed with my brother for a while, then moved into a share house with strangers. I signed my first lease at 15 and worked full-time at McDonald’s while finishing high school because I had to. I wasn’t learning independence in a healthy way, I was surviving. Around the same time, I entered my first relationship, which became abusive and controlling. What started as young love turned into manipulation and emotional abuse that lasted for almost five years. It shaped my beliefs about what love was supposed to feel like and how much of myself I had to lose to keep someone close.

My mental health was unraveling in the background. I was diagnosed with severe depression, anxiety, and stress at 14. I turned to self-harm, alcohol, drugs and shutting down to cope.

 

At 16, I attempted suicide. I survived, but it didn’t magically turn things around. It was more like a crack in the story I’d been living, the beginning of realising I couldn’t keep going like that forever.

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As I moved into young adulthood, I left that relationship, but I didn’t immediately find safety. I entered another dynamic built on lies and betrayal. Then there were more losses. A storm ripped the roof off my home and I lost almost everything I owned. Around 19, I started working in sales and pushing myself relentlessly, often doing 60-hour weeks. The money was good, but the cost was huge. I was burnt out, disconnected and miserable, but I didn’t know any other way to live.

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Then came the car accident. Physically, I walked away somewhat okay, but my back didn’t. I had serious injuries, was bedridden for months and couldn’t work for over a year. I was told I’d live with chronic pain for life. That accident forced me into stillness and in that stillness, I couldn’t outrun myself anymore. I couldn’t outwork what I felt. I couldn’t keep pretending I was fine.

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That’s when healing truly began. I started therapy. I began learning how trauma lives in the body, how coping mechanisms form and why survival patterns can follow you even when your life changes. I began slowly rebuilding trust in myself.

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And then I met Karl. I wasn’t looking for love, but what I found was emotional safety, something I’d never experienced before. He didn’t try to fix me or rush my healing. He met me where I was with patience, steadiness and kindness. That relationship allowed me to build a foundation for a different kind of life. Today, we’ve been together for years, we’re married and we have two beautiful boys.

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Motherhood deepened everything. My first labour lasted five days and it pushed me beyond what I thought I could do. Holding my son for the first time cracked my heart open in a way I can’t fully explain. It was pure love. And it also brought up a lot. I experienced postnatal depression and anxiety, crying through nights and questioning myself constantly. Over time, with support, I moved through it. Later, I had my second son and my capacity for love expanded again. Motherhood definitely didn’t make me perfect, if anything, it showed my imperfections even more but it made me more honest. It showed me that love doesn’t have to hurt and that being real is more valuable than getting everything right.

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At 29, I was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome. It felt like another loss. Another limitation. Another point where I had to grieve the version of me who could push endlessly. But this time I didn’t fight my body the way I used to. I listened. I slowed down. I learned that alignment matters more than achievement, and that the body always tells the truth, even when the mind wants to keep going. That diagnosis reshaped my life and my work. It taught me that healing requires safety, not pressure.

Over time, this path became purpose. I started Mindful Soul Collective in 2020 and built it to support people through trauma, burnout, nervous system dysregulation, life transitions, grief, relationship patterns and the all of the heaviness that can sit in the body for years. I also started Adore By S in 2016 and built it to support women to feel confident and worthy in their bodies. Both businesses are expressions of my values and my lived experience, not just something I do for work.

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Today, I’m a holistic counsellor and wellbeing coach. My work blends practical support, nervous system understanding, body-based and somatic practices, emotional healing and a grounded connection to the parts of healing that many people don’t know how to explain but can feel in their bones. A client of mine once said, people who have lived through the darkness have an understanding and a gift of helping others through the darkness. That sums up my work beautifully. I don’t support people from a pedestal. I support them from lived understanding, training and a deep respect for what it takes to keep going.

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I’m not grateful for what I went through. But I am proud of who I became because I chose to heal. And now, I help others do the same. Not by becoming a new version of themselves, but by building a life that feels safe to live and slowly learning how to fall in love with life again.