25 years. Some of the most demanding environments there are. One consistent belief.

I began my career in hospitality, an industry that runs on adrenaline, goodwill and the ability to keep going regardless of how you feel. From there I moved into the charity and third sector, working with organisations operating at the sharp end of human experience: domestic abuse services, gaming and gambling harm charities, organisations working with victims of domestic and sexual abuse, preventing young people from exploitation and radicalisation and teams keeping children and young people safe.

I have worked alongside people who sit with trauma every single day, who hear things in the course of an afternoon that most people will never encounter in a lifetime. People who are extraordinarily skilled at supporting others and extraordinarily bad at acknowledging what that support costs them. People working in organisations that care deeply about their beneficiaries and have very little left over to care for their own teams.

What I kept seeing in every sector and every organisation was the same thing, people giving everything they had to the people they served, to the roles they played at work and at home without ever being given the space or the tools to understand what that cost them.

I know what that cost feels like from the inside.

Throughout my career I worked in these sectors myself and I know how easy it is, when you are genuinely passionate about helping people, to give everything and keep very little back. That passion is a gift, but without the right support and self awareness, it quietly becomes a liability. I experienced workplaces where there was no psychological safety where people did not feel able to speak up or were punished for doing so, who struggled openly, or felt unable to ask for help and I experienced burnout as a result. Nobody gave me the tools to recognise what was happening until it was already taking its toll.

What I also noticed throughout my training career was that most of the programmes I was asked to deliver focused on skills, systems and performance but rarely on the actual wellbeing of the people in the room. So I always found a way to bring that in, because I knew it mattered. Eventually I stopped adding it as an afterthought and made it the whole point.

Eunoia exists because I want to give people what I didn't have; the language, the tools and the permission to take their own wellbeing seriously before it becomes a crisis.