They say "hurt people hurt people" but my life's work has taught me a different truth.


As the eldest of six siblings, I learned early on that being the "big sister" often means being the shield. You learn to carry weight so others don't have to, and you realise that even when things are hard, you have the power to set the tone for the ones following in your footsteps.

That protector instinct only grew deeper when I became a mama to my beautiful children. In our world, "healing" isn't about fixing; it's about understanding, advocacy, and building a world that finally makes sense for them. They’ve taught me more about resilience than any textbook ever could. 

For over twenty years in education, pastoral care, and children’s services, I have sat across from the "hurt" every single day. I’ve seen the cycles of trauma, yes—but I’ve also seen the incredible, quiet defiance of those who choose to break them.

My career has been about turning pain into purpose. It’s about being the safe space for a child who hasn't found one yet.

To my fellow cycle-breakers, my fellow neurodivergent parents, and my colleagues in the trenches of children's services and education. Your empathy is your superpower. We don’t just carry the hurt; we use it to build bridges, open doors, and heal.

Hurt people don’t just hurt people. We are the ones who make sure no one else feels the way we did.