My Story

I only ever had one significant bout of anxiety — but it hit me in ways I’d never expected.

It blindsided me.

It lingered far longer than it needed to.

And it left me stuck in that strange middle ground where you know you’re not okay, but you also can’t quite justify asking for help.

Self-help wasn’t enough. I tried reading, listening, watching, practising… and it helped a bit, but never quite enough to feel like I was actually moving forward.

And to be honest, life just got in the way, so I forgot to do the things I was meant to do. The advice was all sound, but my execution of that advice was inconsistent at best.

But at the same time, I avoided therapy for all the usual reasons: stigma, embarrassment, the cost, the time, the logistics, and the belief that I “wasn’t bad enough” to need 1:1 sessions. I didn’t want to sit in a room and pour my heart out. I didn’t feel broken… just overloaded.

So I did what most people do — I carried on, hoping it would sort itself out. And eventually it shifted, but it took far longer than it should have.

It was at this point I began my training as a therapist, because I wanted to understand what had happened to me.

And from that point on, something changed for me.

I started noticing the same pattern everywhere. Friends who were clearly overwhelmed but dismissed it as “just stress.” Family members quietly struggling in the background. Colleagues who looked fine on the outside but were barely holding things together. Capable people who didn’t need intensive therapy — but definitely needed something.

When I later opened my clinic, that same pattern walked through the door every week.

Clients made real progress in 1:1 sessions — they hit their goals, things improved, and they left feeling more in control. But once life got busy again with work, kids, routines and responsibilities, it became hard to remember everything we’d covered and put it all into practice consistently. Not because the therapy wasn’t effective — but because real life doesn’t leave much space for reflection, structure, or accountability.

That’s one of the reasons I created the Support Plan inside The Therapy Gap: a way for people to keep that momentum going with small check-ins, structure, and a bit of extra accountability above and beyond the community.

And that’s when the bigger picture clicked for me.

There was a clear gap.

Self-help was too light.

Traditional therapy was often too heavy.

Most people didn’t want either — they wanted something in between: practical support, structure, guidance, encouragement, clarity… delivered in a way that actually fits real life. Accessible emotionally, financially, and logistically.

Something you don’t have to be “ill enough” to join.

Something you don’t have to hide from anyone.

Something you can dip into when you need it — and use to build real, steady change over time.

That’s why I built The Therapy Gap.

A place for people like me — and people like the ones I kept meeting — who don’t need deep therapy, but absolutely need support. A space where you can understand yourself better, reduce pressure, build habits that last, and get practical tools that actually make a difference.

Not therapy.

Not self-help.

Something in the middle that finally makes sense.