When life is good, the team is performing, the business is growing, and things feel stable, the mere suggestion of change can trigger genuine anxiety. Yet when things are difficult, performance is declining, culture is suffering, and the team feels stuck, change is the very thing everyone is quietly craving.

I have always been described as an extrovert. I get involved in conversations, laugh, and tell stories, but what the outside world doesn't see is my internal narrative. This battle goes on when I am going to meet people I don't fully know, join a networking group, or go into a place I haven't been before.

There has been an interesting feeling around. I hear many describe it as "let's just get through this", while others feel a sense of the unknown, the question of "what will ever happen next?" tends to be the tone.

I was thinking about the sentence I'd just created and the fact that I'd put two ideas together that couldn't actually exist at the same time. I had created an impossible equation, and yet I'd been asking my brain to solve it every single day.

Certainty. It's an interesting concept. It's been sitting heavily on my mind because of a conversation I had with a client going through a huge career transition. Naturally, the career change has brought up a massive wave of uncertainty for them.

Change. Oh wow, it’s happened again. I’ve hit the wall of my little box called life and now I’m standing at that familiar crossroads asking myself the same question we all eventually ask: Do I keep doing what I’ve always done? Or do I peek over the edge and see what else might be possible for me?

If you feel like the state of the world is living inside your head, it is not a personal failing, it is a pattern called the Drama Cycle. Emotionally charged information is designed to pull you into one of three roles: victim, persecutor, or saviour.

Feeling unlike yourself: anxious, flat, or emotionally unrecognisable, is a normal response to collective uncertainty. Your emotions are not the problem. Fear, sadness, and anger are survival signals designed to guide you. When you learn to direct them instead of suppress them, they become tools for clarity and action.

If you're feeling flat, directionless, or quietly anxious despite nothing being obviously wrong, you're experiencing a common response to collective uncertainty, and it has a name. Here's what's happening and how to find your footing again.

This week, I’m exploring identity in a way that moves beyond roles, labels, and what we do each day. In this piece, I share why identity isn’t something fixed, but something we practise daily, often without even realising it. I unpack how living on autopilot can quietly disconnect us from ourselves, and how shifting our focus to how we want to feel allows us to take back ownership of who we are becoming.

When did "no" become a dirty word Somewhere along the way, we started to believe that being kind meant being constantly available.

Powerless - is the feeling that you are stuck, that there is no way forward, that what is happening around you has more control than what is happening within you. At its most intense, it can feel like despair, helplessness, even a quiet sense of giving up.

There is something deeply personal about the emotion of hurt. It lingers a little longer. It feels heavier, and often, we don't know what to do with it. We tell ourselves to move on. To let it go. To not be so sensitive, yet hurt exists for a reason. Its higher purpose is self-respect.

Most of us were taught to avoid embarrassment. Something awkward. Something we should push away as quickly as possible, yet embarrassment has a purpose. At its core, embarrassment is a social emotion. It developed to help us stay connected to the tribe. Long before modern life, belonging to the group meant safety and survival. Embarrassment helps us pause and check in with our behaviour within the social world around us.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been writing about what I call our survival emotions. We’ve explored anger, sadness and fear; these emotions are designed to protect us, alert us and help us navigate the world around us. They are powerful, primal and deeply human. Now we move into the next layer. The social emotions. This is where it gets really interesting, because these emotions are not so much about life or death. They are not about whether the berry is poisonous or whether t

There is a very particular moment that comes just before we stretch ourselves. It rarely arrives loudly. It begins as a tightening somewhere in the body, a subtle shift in the breath, a flicker of doubt that feels almost logical.

Over the next few weeks, I'm going to have a deeper conversation and work on emotions. What they are. Why do they exist?

Dear you, I've been sitting with this letter for a few days now. There is so much I want to say. So many thoughts swirling around in my head and so many feelings that have been rising and falling over the past couple of weeks, and yet… every time I've tried to write, the words haven't quite landed. Not because nothing has been happening, but because everything has been happening. I think, if I'm honest, I've been in survival mode. Just doing what needed to be done: packing, d

The person you speak to the most, every single day, is yourself. And that voice influences you more than anyone else ever will. Internal narrative runs the show.

Who’s having endless discussions about AI and the future of our tasks, our jobs, our workforce, heck, our humanity?!?! Will AI replace me? Is AI a faster, smarter, better-looking, and more articulate version of me?