This Being Human

23/04/2026

I don't look like what most people imagine when they think "therapist."

Purple hair. Tattoos. Band t-shirts. Doc Martens. The occasional swear word. (Well, probably more than occasional, let’s be honest. If sweary people shock you, I am definitely not for you.)

For a lot of people, that's exactly why they get in touch.
Not because any of that actually matters—it doesn't—but because it gives them a sense that this might not be one of those beige, hushed-voice, "and how does that make you feel?" situations.

Sometimes what brings people to therapy isn't whether you trained in Cambridge or use the right buzzwords. It's just thinking "right, this person might actually get it" or "I probably won't have to pretend I've got my s**t together here."

And that turns out to matter quite a lot.

I don't make an effort to fit the therapist stereotype—not to prove a point, I just show up as me so you can show up as you.

And it does seem to help people relax faster. Less worrying about whether they're doing therapy correctly (you're not being marked, I promise). Less wondering if they sound ridiculous. More just… actually talking.

If this sounds like it might be less awkward than whatever you've tried before, there's one way to find out.

Find out more, and get in touch, at thisbeinghuman.co.uk

04/03/2026

The biggest red flag in a relationship? Sometimes it’s the white flag…

According to relationship experts, it’s not fireworks that usually spell trouble — it’s the lack of them. From never arguing anymore to forgetting to say “thank you”, assuming you already know what your partner is thinking, slipping into bed early to dodge conversation, or burying yourself in hobbies like ultramarathons… these can be the sneaky little signs that mean emotional connection is quietly fading.

Here’s the awkward truth: love isn’t supposed to be easy all the time — it’s just supposed to be alive. When you’ve stopped checking in, listening deeply, recognising what’s good, or even saying thanks, your relationship might be stuck in that weird half-awake, half-asleep zone where connection goes to nap… forever.

But here’s the juicy bit. You don’t need to be on the brink of divorce to get curious about the health of your relationship. Couples therapy isn’t a last-resort; it’s like switching on the lights in a room you’ve been tip-toeing around for years. We look at why conflict has died, why curiosity has vanished, and how to bring back the messy, human, gorgeous parts of being close.

No judgment. No advice. Just real exploration leading to deeper connection.

So, if you’ve ever caught yourself thinking

“I guess this is just who we are now…”

…then maybe it’s time to book a couples session before autopilot becomes permanent.

21/02/2026

You write a perfectly reasonable reply to someone’s post.

You read it back.
Seems fine.

You read it again.
Hmm.

Delete a sentence.
Add a “haha” so you don’t sound intense.
Remove the “haha” in case it looks forced.
Consider a thumbs up instead.
Decide that somehow looks passive aggressive.

Post it anyway.

Then wait.

And wait.

They’ve been online. You can see that.
But no reaction.

Now your brain is hosting a full inquiry.

“They’re annoyed.”

“I overstepped.”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why did I say that?”

No one has accused you of anything.
There’s no actual evidence.
But your body has already decided you’re in trouble.

For some people, this isn’t just Facebook. It’s life.
A solid chunk of energy and attention is spent constantly checking the temperature of the room.

Scanning faces. Replaying conversations. Softening opinions. Apologising just in case. (Dead giveaway is if you apologise when someone else steps on your toes…..)

Not because you’ve done something wrong.
But because somewhere along the line, it felt safer to assume you had.

That’s what we call fawning.
It’s what happens to a nervous system that learned early on: “Keep the peace. Stay liked. Stay safe.”

Therapy doesn’t teach you not to care what anyone thinks.

It helps you notice when your brain is filling in a story that isn’t actually happening.
When your fear is louder than the facts.

And it gives you somewhere to put all that constant “Am I okay?” energy down for a while.

If you’re tired of feeling in trouble for just existing… we can work with that. Reach out, let's talk.

01/01/2026

By now your social feeds will be full of fresh starts.

Everyone is resetting, realigning, manifesting something.

If you’re feeling vaguely allergic to it all, that’s understandable. This can be a tough, slightly joyless time of year, and being told to feel hopeful on schedule rarely helps.

A lot of the people I work with don’t need motivation. They need a break from the constant commentary about how they should be feeling or who they should be becoming.

Therapy, as I practise it, isn’t about setting intentions or chasing a reset. It’s about having a realistic, honest space to talk about what’s actually going on, especially when the rest of the world seems determined to put a positive spin on everything.

If this is a difficult stretch for you, and you’re feeling out of step with everyone, trust me, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re navigating being human the best you can. But you don’t have to do that on your own - having someone in your corner can help more than you might be able to imagine right now.

I currently have a few midweek slots available for new clients in Chesterfield. No resolutions required. Just reach out and let’s start talking.

Call now to connect with business.

18/11/2025

Not in crisis, but not quite yourself either? I hear this a lot.

On paper, everything looks fine.
But inside, something feels off.
Not dramatic, not falling apart — just… unsettled.
A creeping sense of “I should be happy, but I’m not.”
Life keeps happening around you, but you don’t fully feel part of it.

People think they’re supposed to have it all figured out by now.
But honestly? Most of us hit this place at some point.
Some of us more than once.

Feeling stuck doesn’t mean you’re broken.
It usually means something inside you is shifting — even if you can’t name it yet.

If this sounds familiar, reach out.
You don’t have to go through this on your own.

Therapy is my profession, but being human with you in the messy bits is the real work. I don’t do quick fixes, and I’m not here to tell you who to be.
I offer a space where we be real with each other, make sense of what’s changing, and find a way forward that actually fits you.

Being stuck might not be a dead end — it might be the start of something new. Even if it’s uncomfortable as hell right now.

19/09/2025

I once stood at the crossroads of ‘do what’s expected’ vs. ‘do what feels true.’ Spoiler: the scary option changed everything.

A lot of people pick me as their therapist because I look like I’ve got a strong sense of identity. And yeah, today I do. But it wasn’t always that way.

I’ve spent plenty of time saying “yes” when I meant hell no, pretending I was fine when I was anything but, and playing roles everyone else expected… all while quietly wondering, “Wait, who even am I?”

So I get it. That lost, disconnected, “is this really me?” feeling — I’ve lived it.

Here’s the truth: identity isn’t this shiny trophy you “find” and then keep forever. It’s messy. It changes. Sometimes it feels like duct-taping together the parts of yourself that make sense and hoping nobody notices the gaps.

Therapy isn’t about fixing you (because newsflash: you’re not broken). It’s about peeling back the masks, ditching the “shoulds,” and figuring out what actually feels like you.

If you’re tired of feeling like a side character in your own life and you’re ready to take the lead — send me a message, because I’ve currently got limited space for new clients.

And I can tell you that stepping into your true self is awkward, terrifying… and 100% worth it. Let's have a chat.

17/07/2025

You know when someone tells you, "You’re so strong. I don’t know how you do it."

And you smile politely, while thinking, “If by strong you mean emotionally constipated and surviving on hobnobs, then yeah—spot on.”

It sounds like a compliment. But sometimes it just means, “You look like you’re fine, so we’ll leave you to it.”

If you’re the one holding everything together - the fixer, the calm in the chaos, the one everyone leans on - people tend to forget to check in with you.

But “looking like you’re coping” isn’t the same as actually being okay. Strength is brilliant, but if you don’t leave space to flex, you risk breaking.

So if you’re quietly running on empty, still juggling everyone else’s mess…
If you’re the one who says, “I’ve got this,” even when you don’t…
If you know exactly what everyone else needs but can’t remember the last time anyone asked how you’re doing—this is for you.

You’re allowed to fall apart for a while.
You’re allowed to ask for help, even when you’re not sure what kind.
You’re allowed to be messy, vulnerable, and beautifully human.

If you’re worn out from carrying it all, there’s room here to set it down for a while.

You don’t need the right words.
You don’t need a brave face.
You can be messy.
You can be quiet.
You can just be.

Let’s make some room for you for once and see what comes of it.

You can bring the Hobnobs if you want.

02/07/2025

I used to think I was just a bit rubbish at coping. Now I know I was never given much to work with.

A lot of us don’t realise how few coping tools we have… until the bottom drops out of our world. You’re going through hell — grief, loss, heartbreak, burnout — and you reach for something to help you get through it. And what do you find in your toolkit?

A sad, solitary, broken plastic fork.

And you’re expected to dig yourself out with that?

The truth is: most of us weren’t taught how to deal with big feelings. We were taught to be “brave” (ie. suppress it), to “stay positive” (ie. pretend it’s fine), or to numb out and push on. But when life gets real — and it will — those old standbys don’t hold up.

If you’re in that place — staring at your broken fork, frustrated, overwhelmed, or just plain exhausted — you don’t have to figure it out on your own.

Therapy is where we start building a better set of tools. Real ones. Ones that don’t snap in half the second things get hard.

If you’ve ever felt like you were handed a broken fork when you needed a full toolbox, you’re not alone. And you don’t have to figure it out alone either.

I'm currently taking on new clients — if you’re ready to build your toolkit, I’m here to help.

30/06/2025

It’s a weird job, really—being a human who sits in a room with other humans while they unravel. (Luckily, I love being weird, I lean into weird every day.)

And speaking of weird: I bet you didn't know they teach therapists how to sit in a chair - apparently that's SUPER important (but it's okay that in several years of training, less than a day was spent on grief?).

Sit squarely
Open posture (no crossed arms or legs, please!)
Lean in (but not too much)
Eye contact (but not too much)
Relax (but not too, well, you get the idea...)

We were given lots of other rules too:

✨ Don’t wear jeans (too casual).
✨ Don’t ask too many questions (too directive).
✨ Don’t self-disclose (too human).
✨ Don’t be funny (too… irreverent?)
✨ Wear “non-distracting” clothing—read: neutral tones, low-key everything, ideally looking like a sentient waiting room chair.

Yeah, no.

Here’s what I’ve learned - it's all about connection.

If someone is offended that I'm wearing t-shirt and jeans, we're not a good fit (and that's okay).
Connection doesn’t crumble because I sometimes sit like a pretzel (that's all part of my wonderful weirdness).
And clients can tell when you're playing the role of therapist, instead of being the real deal.

That's not my style.

I’m a therapist who shows up authentically. I wear jeans. I laugh. I ask questions. Sometimes I don't know what to say (and I'll tell you that). I’m not afraid to go deep, get real, and walk with you through the dark stuff. Not as a blank slate—but as a trained, compassionate, curious, very human person.

At the end of the day, therapy is a conversation between two humans. That’s it.
Not a performance. Not a hierarchy. Just presence, curiosity, and courage—on both sides of the room.

If you’re tired of therapy that feels like a scripted performance, I’m currently accepting new clients. Come as you are. Because I will.