FAQs

The work I do sits at the intersection of shadow work, somatic practice, and cyclical wisdom — and I know those terms can feel unfamiliar if you haven't encountered them before. This page is here to answer the questions I hear most often, in plain language, so you can decide if any of this resonates before we speak.

What is shadow work?

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Shadow work is the practice of getting to know the parts of yourself you've hidden — not because you're broken, but because at some point, hiding them made sense. Maybe you learned early that anger wasn't safe to express, or that needing things was a burden, or that being too much of yourself made people uncomfortable. So you tucked those parts away. Shadow work is the process of finding them again.

The term comes from the psychologist Carl Jung, who described the shadow as everything we've pushed outside our conscious awareness — not just the difficult emotions, but also the gifts, desires, and capacities we've been told aren't acceptable. Integrating the shadow doesn't mean becoming someone different. It means becoming more fully who you already are.

In practice, this looks like exploring patterns that keep repeating in your life, stories you tell about yourself that may not actually be true, and the parts of yourself you judge most harshly - because those are often the places where the most energy is waiting to be reclaimed.


What is womb wisdom/ cyclical wisdom?

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As women, we live in a 28-day cycle — not just physically, but emotionally, creatively, and energetically. Most of us were never taught this. We were taught to function at the same pace every day, to push through, to treat our cycle as an inconvenience at best and a liability at worst.

Womb wisdom is the reclamation of what was always there. It's the understanding that each phase of your cycle — from menstruation through to ovulation and back again — carries its own quality of energy, its own intelligence, its own invitation. When you learn to work with your cycle rather than against it, you access a source of clarity, creativity, and power that is entirely your own.

This work is rooted in the red tent tradition — the ancient practice of women gathering in circle, honouring their cycles, and sharing their wisdom. It's also deeply relevant to the present moment, in which women are systematically disconnected from their bodies and their intuitive knowing. Reclaiming your cyclical nature is an act of coming home — and a quiet act of resistance.

Note: this work is relevant whether or not you menstruate. The wisdom of cycles — of rest and action, of inward and outward movement — belongs to all women.


What are somatic practices?

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Somatic simply means of the body. Somatic practices are any practices that work through the body rather than just the mind — and they matter because the body holds what the mind cannot always access.

Trauma, stress, and unprocessed emotion don't just live in our thoughts. They live in our nervous systems, our muscles, our posture, our breath. Research consistently shows that the body keeps a record of everything we've experienced — which is why talk therapy alone sometimes isn't enough, and why you can understand something intellectually and still feel stuck.

Somatic practices create a different kind of access. Through breathwork, movement, yoga, dance, and body-based awareness exercises, we create the conditions for what's held in the body to begin to release and integrate. This isn't about performance or fitness — it's about learning to listen to the body as a source of wisdom rather than something to manage or override.

In my work, somatic practice is woven throughout — because real integration happens in the body, not just in the mind.


Why storytelling?

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Because we are made of stories. The ones we were told about who we are, the ones we tell ourselves, the ones we've never had language for yet — they shape everything. How we see ourselves, how we move through the world, what we believe is possible for us.

I've spent my career as a writer and producer working with the power of story to move people — in theatre, in television, in corporate communications. What I've learned is that story isn't just a way of communicating. It's a way of making meaning. And when we can find the story underneath the pattern — the original wound that created the belief that created the behaviour — something shifts.

In our work together, storytelling is both a tool and a practice. We use it to surface what's been hidden, to reframe what's been distorted, and to find a truer, fuller narrative of who you actually are. Because sometimes the most healing thing you can do is tell your story — and finally hear it without judgment.