I didn’t start out wanting to work in marketing or communications. I wanted to be a journalist.
What drew me in was the idea of making sense of things — asking questions, noticing patterns, and explaining complex ideas clearly. I built my own website early on, started writing, and learned first-hand how powerful clarity, structure and narrative can be when you’re trying to be understood.
But the real foundation came earlier. When I was 17, my auntie Karen handed me a StrengthsFinder assessment and started asking me questions about how I was wired. She’d spent years leading major change programmes in the NHS, then built her own coaching practice around a simple philosophy: no clarity, no goals; no goals, no change; no change, no growth.
She had no patience for excuses or overthinking. She believed in action — in front-loading the hard work, in moving forward even when you couldn’t see the whole path. She taught me that good leadership isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about staying calm when things get difficult, helping people see what actually matters, and making sure ideas turn into action rather than just talk.
I lost her a few years ago. But the way I work — the emphasis on clarity, on calm under pressure, on actually getting things done — that’s still her influence.
That instinct carried through as my career developed. I found myself in increasingly complex organisations — often where the context was messy, the pressure was high, and there were multiple competing versions of “what’s really going on.” Over time, the work became less about outputs and more about judgement: helping leaders decide what mattered, what didn’t, and how to move forward without losing trust.
What I’ve learned is that complexity rarely needs more noise. It needs calm thinking, honest conversations, and someone who gets the gap between leading and doing — who understands that things are never perfect, but they still have to work.
That’s the work I’m drawn to now.