The Girl Who

1 am Kerry.

The girl who was never really seen.

The girl who learned to read a room before she learned to read a book.

The girl who knew when to be quiet, when to disappear, when to hold her breath and wait for the storm to pass.

The girl who experienced things no child should ever have to live through.

The girl who learned that sometimes the people who should protect you are the people who hurt you.

The girl who grew up too quickly, The girl who learned to cope, to adapt, to make herself small, to survive.

The girl who carried pain that wasn’t hers to carry, and learned to keep going anyway.

The girl who, later in life, found herself in relationships that were unsafe, where love became control,

where kindness could turn to cruelty, and the people she trusted again chose their own needs over her safety.

The girl who learned that home isn’t always a safe place,

and that leaving can be the bravest thing you ever do.

The girl who picked herself up.

The girl who carried herself out.

The girl who learned not to ask for too much, not to need too much, not to expect too much.

The girl who could survive anything.

The girl who turned her pain into purpose.

The girl who fights for every woman to make a stand against those who hurt them.

The girl who believes every woman should be in charge of their own body, their own choices and hold their own agency.

The girl who speaks up when other women are silenced.

The girl who uses her story to support, empower and help other women.

And everyone called her strong.

But nobody knew that strong was simply

what happened when a little girl had no other choice.

Because underneath the woman is still the girl who sometimes wonders

what it might feel like to be someone’s first thought.

The girl who wanted someone to notice when she was tired.

The girl who wanted someone to say,

“You don’t have to be brave today.”

The girl who wanted somewhere safe to put down everything she’s been carrying.

The girl who wanted arms around her that didn’t eventually let go.

The girl who wanted to be loved

without having to be so strong all the time.

The girl who wanted to know what it felt like to be rescued, without having to fall apart first.

She didn’t want saving because she was weak.

She wanted to be held because she had been holding herself for far too long

And now, when I look back at her, I don’t see a girl who was broken.

I see the girl who survived

The girl who kept going even when nobody knew how hard going was.

But perhaps she deserves more than survival.

Perhaps she deserves to know what it feels like when somebody else stays.

When somebody else holds on.

When somebody else looks at her and decides,

“T’ve got you.”

Maybe every girl out there is a girl who doesn’t need rescuing, but needs somebody to notice.

A girl who needs to be loved.

A girl who needs to be held.

A girl who needs someone just to hold out their hand and say, “I’ve got you”

Because in each and every one of us, there is

‘A Girl Who.’

We’ve all overcome things in our lives that have brought us to where we are now.

And maybe, just maybe, we can stop trying to rescue ourselves and not be ashamed to ever ask for help.

Is Marriage Dead in 2026? Or Have We Just Forgotten How to Love?

As I drive past a wedding dress shop today driving to my studio, I look through the window and think, oh my God. I’m in love.

Not necessarily with a particular dress, not even necessarily with the idea of the wedding itself, but with what those dresses represent.

Love.

Commitment.

Romance.

Two people standing in front of the people they love and saying, I choose you.

Not just today, not just while it feels easy, not just while we agree.

But I choose you.

Perhaps that is why I find myself wondering something that feels increasingly uncomfortable to ask in 2026:

Is marriage dead?

I don’t want to believe it is, Actually, I really don’t.

As a Christian woman, I believe in marriage. I believe in the beauty of making a commitment to another person. I believe in getting married in a church, standing before God and making promises that mean something.

I know not everybody believes the same way and that’s absolutely okay, but what I do wonder about is when we collectively started treating commitment as though it were somehow embarrassing.

When did marriage become just a piece of paper?

When did two people declaring their love, respect, dedication and commitment to each other become something we could dismiss with one sentence?

“It’s only a piece of paper.”

Really?

Because that piece of paper represents a promise.

And perhaps the promise is the bit we’ve forgotten how to value.

We don’t want to settle anymore and that’s a good thing.

Let me be clear about something before anybody starts shouting at me. I am not suggesting that people should stay in unhappy, abusive, neglectful or destructive marriages.

Absolutely not.

For generations, people stayed in relationships they should never have been expected to stay in. Women, in particular, were often financially dependent on their husbands, socially pressured to remain married and told that leaving was shameful.

We have every reason to be grateful that things have changed.

You don’t have to stay somewhere that destroys you. You don’t have to tolerate abuse in the name of commitment. You don’t have to spend your life desperately trying to make something work when the other person is unwilling to meet you halfway.

But somewhere between “I don’t have to settle” and “I don’t have to tolerate anything I don’t like”, I wonder whether we’ve lost something.

The ability to try.

Because there is a difference between settling for someone who isn’t right for you and learning how to love someone who isn’t perfect.

And none of us are perfect.

Not you.

Not me.

Not the person sitting opposite you at dinner.

The statistics tell us something is changing

Marriage hasn’t disappeared.

In England and Wales, there were 231,949 marriages and civil partnerships in 2023, with marriage still overwhelmingly the most common form of legal partnership formation. But the longer-term picture shows that marriage is changing. The number of marriages in England and Wales was 20.8% lower in 2022 than it had been in 1992.

And in 2025, married or civil-partnered people were still the largest legal partnership group among adults aged 18 and over in England and Wales, but their share had fallen from 52.3% in 2015 to 51.1%. At the same time, the proportion who had never married or civil partnered had risen from 32.6% to 34.9%. 

So no, marriage isn’t dead, however it isn’t what it once was, and perhaps that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

People are marrying later. In 2023, the median age at marriage for opposite-sex couples was 34.8 for men and 33.0 for women. More than nine in ten couples marrying in 2021 or 2022 were already living together before marriage. 

We’re taking longer, We’re thinking more carefully, We’re choosing differently, but are we also becoming less willing to work at love?

That’s the question I’m interested in.

When did we become a throwaway culture?

I sometimes wonder whether dating has become a little bit like online shopping.

Swipe.

Match.

Message.

Meet.

Evaluate.

Reject.

Next.

There are always more options.

And when there are always more options, why would I work on the one in front of me?

Maybe there’ll be somebody better.

Maybe somebody more attractive.

Maybe somebody more exciting.

Maybe somebody who doesn’t annoy me.

Maybe somebody who agrees with me more.

Maybe somebody who gives me more butterflies.

And so we keep searching.

But here’s the problem.

Eventually, you can become so obsessed with finding the perfect person that you never learn how to build something imperfect with a real one.

You have one disagreement.

“This isn’t going to work.”

They don’t text in exactly the way you want.

“They’re emotionally unavailable.”

You have a difficult conversation.

“We’re incompatible.”

You sleep together sooner than you intended and suddenly the excitement changes.

“I don’t think I’m feeling it anymore.”

And off we go.

Next…Next….Next.

At what point did people become replaceable?

Whatever happened to wooing somebody?

Maybe I’m a traditionalist, actually, I know I am, but I like romance.

I like getting dressed up for a date, I like putting effort into how I look. I like somebody making an effort with me and no, before anybody says it, I’m not talking about wanting somebody to pay for my dinner.

I’ll happily pay fifty-fifty.

It’s not about getting a free meal.

It’s about effort.

It’s about anticipation.

It’s getting ready and wondering what they’re going to wear.

It’s butterflies in your stomach.

It’s sitting across from someone and talking over each other because you’ve got so much to say.

It’s losing track of time.

It’s that moment when they reach across the table and touch your hand.

It’s smiling when their name appears on your phone.

It’s going home thinking, Oh my God, I really like them.

It’s being giddy.

Perhaps we’ve become so afraid of looking foolish that we’ve stopped allowing ourselves to be romantic.

We don’t want to seem too keen.

Don’t reply too quickly.

Don’t text first.

Don’t show too much interest.

Don’t get attached.

Don’t let them know you like them.

Don’t give them too much power.

Keep your options open.

And suddenly two people who genuinely like each other are both sitting there pretending they couldn’t care less.

What a strange way to fall in love.

The 20-minute coffee date

And this is where modern dating really makes me laugh.

“Let’s just grab a quick coffee.”

Twenty minutes.

Thirty minutes.

Something casual.

Something easy.

No pressure.

No effort.

No risk.

And I understand why people do it.

Dating can be exhausting.

Nobody wants to spend three hours with someone they discover they don’t like. I sometimes wonder whether we’ve become so frightened of wasting our time that we’re not giving people enough time to show us who they are. What can you really learn about somebody in twenty minutes?

You might learn whether they are attractive to you.

You might learn whether conversation flows.

You might get a feeling.

But you probably haven’t seen how they treat the waiter.

You haven’t heard them talk about their childhood.

You haven’t discovered what makes them laugh until they can’t breathe.

You haven’t seen how they respond when something doesn’t go their way.

You haven’t heard their hopes.

You haven’t seen their vulnerability.

You haven’t watched them become comfortable enough to stop performing.

And maybe that’s the problem.

We’re assessing people before we’ve actually met them.

And then there’s sex

This is another area where I think we’ve complicated dating enormously.

Two people meet.

There’s chemistry.

They sleep together.

And suddenly the rules change.

The dopamine rush settles.

The chase disappears.

And instead of asking:

“Who is this person?”

we sometimes start asking:

“Why did they sleep with me so quickly?”

Or:

“Why didn’t they make me wait?”

Or:

“Do they do this with everyone?”

And suddenly we’re judging the person based on the speed at which intimacy happened.

But what about everything else they’ve shown you?

Are they kind?

Are they funny?

Are they honest?

Are they emotionally generous?

Do they listen?

Do they make you feel safe?

Do they have integrity?

Do they show up?

Do they treat people well?

Are they interesting?

Do they make you laugh?

Do they make you feel like yourself?

Why can one decision about sex suddenly erase everything else?

I’m not saying people shouldn’t have boundaries.

Of course they should.

I’m saying that perhaps we’ve become very good at reducing complicated human beings to one decision, one mistake, one night or one moment.

And then we discard them.

The divorce paradox

Here’s the really interesting part.

In England and Wales, the divorce rate actually peaked decades ago.

ONS data shows that divorce numbers reached their highest point in 1993, while the longer-term divorce rate has since declined. In 2023, there were 102,678 divorces, with the divorce rate at 8.6 per 1,000 married men and 8.5 per 1,000 married women. 

So perhaps the story isn’t simply that everyone is getting divorced. It’s more complicated than that. Marriage itself is less common. 

People marry later. 

More people cohabit.

More people remain unmarried.

And when people do marry, they have more legal and social freedom to leave relationships that aren’t working.

That’s progress in many ways.

But perhaps we now have a different problem.

Not “Why can’t I leave?”

But:

“Do I leave too quickly?”

There’s a huge difference.

The other side of the world

I was curious about what this looks like elsewhere too, particularly because so many people who read my work are in America and China.

And what I found was fascinating.

China isn’t some romantic haven where everyone stays together forever.

Quite the opposite.

Marriage rates have been falling significantly there too. In the first half of 2024, 3.43 million couples registered marriages, the lowest first-half figure since 2013. Full-year 2024 registrations subsequently fell by around a fifth, according to reporting based on official Chinese data. Researchers and officials have pointed to factors including the cost of marriage and raising children, economic uncertainty, demographic change and shifting attitudes among younger people. 

Japan is experiencing its own dramatic changes.

Its government has become sufficiently concerned about declining marriage and birth rates that Tokyo has even developed initiatives designed to help people meet potential partners, including an AI-supported matchmaking service. Reuters reported that the initiative was launched against a backdrop of declining marriage rates and a significant number of unmarried middle-aged people and young adults who had never dated. 

And America?

Again, it isn’t a simple story.

The US marriage rate has remained relatively stable over the longer period examined by the Census Bureau, while its divorce rate has declined substantially from 2008 to 2022. 

So we can’t simply point at another country and say, “They value relationships more than we do.”

Human beings are complicated.

Culture matters.

Economics matter.

Religion matters.

Gender expectations matter.

Housing matters.

Childcare matters.

Dating apps matter.

And people’s individual experiences matter.

But there is one thing that seems to be happening across many developed societies:

Marriage and long-term relationships are changing.

Have we confused standards with perfection?

This is where I think we need to be really honest with ourselves. Having standards is healthy, having boundaries is healthy, knowing what you won’t tolerate is healthy, however there is a danger in turning a list of standards into a search for a flawless human being.

Because eventually, somebody will disappoint you.

They’ll say the wrong thing.

They’ll have a bad day.

They’ll misunderstand you.

They’ll irritate you.

You’ll irritate them.

You’ll disagree.

You’ll have different needs.

You’ll have an argument.

And that’s when the relationship actually begins.

Because the first few months of dating aren’t really a test of whether you can get along. You’re both on your best behaviour.

The real test is what happens when the fantasy meets reality.

Do we communicate?

Do we apologise?

Do we listen?

Do we compromise?

Do we seek counselling?

Do we learn about attachment?

Do we understand each other’s wounds?

Do we take responsibility for our own behaviour?

Do we try to become better partners?

Or do we simply decide that the person is defective and start looking for a replacement?

What if the person isn’t the problem?

This is something I think we desperately need to talk about.

Sometimes the person in front of you isn’t wrong for you.

Sometimes you aren’t ready for what a healthy relationship requires.

Maybe you’ve spent years protecting yourself.

Maybe intimacy scares you.

Maybe you’re avoidant.

Maybe you’re anxious.

Maybe you’ve never learned how to communicate.

Maybe conflict sends you running.

Maybe you expect rejection.

Maybe you’ve never seen a healthy relationship modelled.

Maybe you don’t know how to receive love.

Maybe you’ve never learned how to give it properly.

And none of those things make you broken.

But they might mean you have work to do.

And imagine if instead of saying:

“This relationship isn’t working.”

we sometimes said:

“What can I learn from this?”

What if we went to therapy?

What if we learned to communicate?

What if we confronted our own patterns?

What if we became a better version of ourselves, not because somebody demanded it, but because we genuinely wanted to love somebody well?

That isn’t settling.

That’s growth.

Perhaps we’ve become too good at protecting ourselves

We talk a lot about self-protection now.

Protect your peace.

Protect your energy.

Don’t let anybody disturb your peace.

Cut them off.

Block them.

Walk away.

And sometimes that advice is absolutely necessary.

But if we take it too literally, we can end up building such a fortress around ourselves that nobody can get in.

And then we wonder why we’re lonely.

You cannot have deep intimacy without vulnerability.

You cannot have commitment without risk.

You cannot build a lifelong relationship without occasionally being disappointed.

And you certainly cannot love somebody without sometimes being hurt.

The answer isn’t to avoid every possible source of pain.

The answer is learning how to recognise the difference between normal relationship difficulty and genuine harm.

One requires communication.

The other may require leaving.

We need to know the difference.

I still believe in the wedding dress

So when I drive past that wedding dress shop and look at those beautiful dresses, I don’t feel silly for getting a little bit emotional.

I still believe in it.

I believe in the romance.

I believe in getting dressed up.

I believe in flowers.

I believe in walking down the aisle.

I believe in holding someone’s hand and promising to stand beside them.

I believe in marriage.

And as a Christian, I believe there is something deeply meaningful about making that commitment before God.

But I also believe the wedding is the easy bit.

The photographs are easy.

The flowers are easy.

The dress is easy.

The champagne is easy.

The Instagram post is easy.

The marriage is the work.

It’s waking up beside someone when you’re annoyed with them and choosing kindness anyway.

It’s having the difficult conversation.

It’s saying sorry.

It’s forgiving.

It’s asking for help.

It’s learning.

It’s changing.

It’s laughing when things go wrong.

It’s holding each other when life becomes unbearable.

It’s choosing each other again and again.

Not because you have to.

Because you want to.

Maybe marriage isn’t dead. Maybe patience is.

Perhaps marriage isn’t dead in 2026.

Perhaps patience is.

Perhaps we’ve become so accustomed to instant gratification that we’ve forgotten that the most beautiful things in life often take time.

We want instant chemistry.

Instant certainty.

Instant compatibility.

Instant answers.

Instant happiness.

And the moment something becomes difficult, we’re told there is another option waiting around the corner.

But what if there isn’t?

What if the person you walked away from was actually wonderful?

What if the argument could have been repaired?

What if the relationship could have grown?

What if you hadn’t needed another person?

What if you needed to become a different version of yourself?

And I’m not saying this because I think everybody should stay in every relationship. I’m saying it because I think we should become more honest about our own behaviour. Before you decide they’re the problem, ask yourself what part you played. Before you decide they’re not right for you, ask yourself whether you’ve actually given the relationship a chance. Before you walk away, ask yourself whether you’re walking away because the relationship is genuinely wrong for you…

or because intimacy is frightening.

Because commitment is frightening.

Because vulnerability is frightening.

Because you’ve been hurt before.

Because another person cannot give you the perfect relationship you imagined and before you start looking for somebody better, ask yourself whether you’re actually capable of loving the person in front of you.

Because perhaps the greatest tragedy of modern dating isn’t that there are no good people left.

Perhaps it’s that good people are finding each other and then throwing each other away before they’ve had the chance to become something extraordinary.

And maybe, just maybe, we need to start trying again.

We need to court again.

We need to woo again.

We need to make an effort again.

We need to put our phones down and talk.

We need to dress up.

We need to flirt.

We need to hold hands.

We need to let ourselves get butterflies.

We need to stop pretending we don’t care.

We need to learn how to disagree without destroying everything.

We need to stop expecting perfect people.

And perhaps we need to remember that love isn’t just a feeling that happens to us.

Love is something we participate in.

Something we nurture.

Something we protect.

Something we build.

Something we choose.

And maybe that’s why I still look at wedding dresses and think:

Oh my God.

I’m in love.

Not because I believe marriage guarantees happiness.

But because I still believe there is something incredibly beautiful about two imperfect human beings looking at each other and saying:

“Out of everyone in this world, I choose you.”

And then waking up the next morning…

and choosing each other again.

And again.

And again.

Maybe marriage isn’t dead.

Maybe we just need to remember why we wanted it in the first place.

When Success Meets Love: Do High Achieving Men Have Room for Relationships?

Exploring communication, ambition, emotional availability, marriage, children and the difference between being busy and having relationship capacity

Why do high achieving men struggle with relationships? Explore ambition, communication, emotional availability, marriage, children and relationship capacity.

There is a particular kind of dating confusion that can happen when you meet a highly successful man.

He works hard, he travels, he has a demanding career, he has meetings, dinners, networking events, friends, family, the gym, projects, responsibilities and a diary that appears to have been organised by someone with a personal vendetta against free time.

He is ambitious. Driven, Successful, Independent… and then there is you.

Waiting for the good morning text…Wondering why there wasn’t a goodnight message.

Looking at your phone and thinking:

He said he’d call. Then, at 10.47pm:

“Sorry, just got in. Crazy day.” And you think:

Is he genuinely that busy? Does he actually like me? Is this just what successful men are like? Am I expecting too much?

Or does he simply not have the capacity for a relationship?

This is where dating becomes less about reading messages and more about understanding behaviour, because being busy and being emotionally unavailable are not necessarily the same thing.

However sometimes, they can look remarkably similar…

High achievement does not automatically equal relationship capacity

We often make assumptions about successful people. If someone has built a successful company, developed an impressive career, accumulated wealth, travelled the world or reached a senior position, we can unconsciously assume they must also be highly emotionally intelligent and capable in relationships. However career competence and relationship competence are different skill sets.

Someone can be exceptional at business and struggle with intimacy. Someone can be brilliant at negotiation and terrible at expressing feelings. Someone can manage a team of hundreds of people and struggle to communicate consistently with one person they are dating. Someone can be incredibly disciplined professionally and chaotic romantically.

Achievement tells us something about what someone can accomplish.

It does not necessarily tell us how much emotional space they have available for another person.

And that distinction matters.

Is it a London thing?

Let’s get this out of the way.

It is not that London men are genetically incapable of sending a text.

Although sometimes, after dating for a while, you might reasonably begin to wonder. London has a particular rhythm.

Fast careers, Long working hours, Commuting, Client dinners, Networking, Travel, Property, Finance, Law, Entrepreneurship, Corporate life and Social commitments. There are people who genuinely work extraordinarily long hours, but there is another cultural element too.

Some highly successful people become exceptionally good at functional communication.

They can negotiate a multimillion pound deal.

They can manage a team.

They can organise a property development.

They can coordinate ten people across three countries.

But ask:

“How are you feeling about us?”

And suddenly the WiFi goes down.

Functional communication is easy.

“Meeting at seven.”

“I’m in Manchester.”

“Can’t do Thursday.”

“Call you tomorrow.”

Relational communication requires something different. It requires curiosity, vulnerability, consistency, emotional presence… And some people have simply never developed those muscles.

A high achieving man can still make room for connection

This is the bit I think women sometimes need reminding of.

A genuinely busy man can still send:

“Morning you. Crazy day today, but I’ll call you tonight.”

That takes seconds.

Or:

“Just got home and I’m absolutely shattered. Hope you’ve had a lovely day. Sleep well.”

Again, seconds.

Communication is not necessarily about having hours available.

It is about making room for connection within the time you actually have.A person does not need to be permanently attached to their phone to demonstrate interest, but they do need to demonstrate that the relationship exists somewhere within their priorities.

That is the difference…

There is a difference between being busy and being unavailable

A busy but emotionally available person might say:

“I’ve got a manic day today, but I’ll call you tonight.”

And then they call.

They might not message constantly, but they keep you informed.

They make plans.

They follow through.

They remember things you’ve told them.

They show curiosity about your life.

They don’t leave you perpetually guessing.

Someone with very little relationship capacity may look different.

They disappear for long periods.

Plans remain vague.

You initiate most of the contact.

They repeatedly cancel.

Communication happens when it suits them.

You receive affection in bursts rather than consistency… and you find yourself spending more time interpreting their behaviour than actually enjoying the relationship.

That’s exhausting.

The real issue may be consistency

We often ask:

“Does he like me?”

But perhaps the better question is:

“Is he consistent?”

Because someone can absolutely like you and still be a terrible communicator. Someone can be hugely attracted to you and still not have the emotional bandwidth to build a relationship. Someone can think you’re wonderful and still have a lifestyle that leaves no meaningful space for intimacy and someone can communicate brilliantly in the beginning because they are pursuing you, only to become inconsistent once the initial excitement settles.

So communication frequency is not necessarily the measure of interest.

Consistency, initiative and follow through are much more revealing.

A man does not have to text you every hour.

He does not need to report his movements.

He does not have to be permanently attached to his phone.

But you should be able to understand the rhythm of his communication.

You should not constantly be wondering where you stand.

Does he actually have relationship capacity?

This, for me, is the more interesting question.

We talk endlessly about whether somebody is attractive enough, successful enough, funny enough, wealthy enough, interesting enough or compatible enough.

But what about capacity?

Someone can have enormous financial capacity.

Career capacity.

Social capacity.

Sexual capacity.

And still have very little relationship capacity.

A person can be extraordinarily successful and genuinely have almost nothing left emotionally by the end of the day.

That does not make them a bad person, It does not mean they do not care. However it may mean they are not currently able to offer the kind of relationship another person needs. You cannot create emotional availability for somebody else. You cannot love someone into having more capacity. You cannot become sufficiently attractive, interesting or sexually compatible to manufacture time and emotional bandwidth that simply is not there.

And then there is the question we do not always want to ask

Is it because he does not like me enough?

Sometimes, yes.

But not always.

And I think this is where dating advice can become unnecessarily simplistic.

“If he wanted to, he would.”

It is catchy.

It is also not always true.

Adults have jobs.

Children.

Businesses.

Families.

Responsibilities.

Travel.

Stress.

Life.

People can care deeply about someone and still be inconsistent communicators, but the reverse is also true. Someone can tell you they are incredibly interested while giving you very little actual relationship behaviour. That is why words alone are not enough.

Look at the pattern.

Do not become a detective

This is perhaps one of the most emotionally draining parts of modern dating. You start analysing everything. He did not say good morning.

Why?

He normally calls at lunchtime.

He did not today.

Is he losing interest?

He said he was working late.

Was he really?

He has been online.

Why has he not replied?

He sent a heart yesterday and nothing today.

What does that mean?

Suddenly you are not dating anymore.

You are conducting an investigation.

And if you spend more time analysing someone’s communication than experiencing their companionship, something needs to change.

Not necessarily because they are doing something terrible.

But because the relationship is creating too much uncertainty.

Intermittent communication can become strangely powerful

There is another psychological reason inconsistent communication can feel so consuming. When attention and reassurance arrive unpredictably, they can become disproportionately attention grabbing.

One day there is affection, attention and connection.

Then silence.

Then a lovely message.

Then distance.

Then suddenly they are intensely interested again.

That unpredictability can make the connection feel more significant rather than less.

You start waiting for the next little hit of reassurance and that can create a cycle where you are constantly monitoring the relationship. This is why consistency matters so much.

Healthy connection does not need to be relentless.

It needs to be predictable enough that your nervous system is not constantly asking whether you are safe in the relationship.

What about the good morning and goodnight texts?

I love this conversation because people sometimes dismiss these things as needy.

They are not inherently needy.

They are preferences.

Some people genuinely enjoy little moments of contact throughout the day.

A good morning message.

A quick call.

A goodnight text.

A little:

“Thinking of you.”

Those things can create a feeling of continuity.

Other people do not naturally communicate that way.

Neither person is automatically wrong.

The question is whether their communication styles are compatible.

You do not need somebody who communicates exactly like you.

But you probably do need somebody whose communication style does not leave you chronically deprived.

High achievement can create a very autonomous lifestyle

There is something else worth considering. The more successful someone’s life becomes, the more independent it can become. They may be used to making their own decisions.

Controlling their diary.

Travelling when they want.

Working when they want.

Living where they want.

Spending their money how they want.

Managing their own environment.

That independence can be wonderful.

But relationships require something slightly different.

They require consideration.

Negotiation.

Compromise.

Flexibility.

Making decisions with another person’s needs in mind.

The question is not whether a successful man should give up his independence.

Of course he should not.

The question is whether he has learned how to integrate another person into an already highly autonomous life.

Because a relationship is not simply adding another person to your existing lifestyle. At some point, two lives have to begin making room for each other.

High achievement does not equal emotional maturity

This is another trap in dating. We can unconsciously assume that because someone is successful, intelligent, wealthy or highly accomplished, they must also be emotionally sophisticated.

Not necessarily.

Someone can run a successful business and struggle with intimacy.

Someone can be brilliant at negotiation and terrible at expressing feelings.

Someone can be highly disciplined professionally and chaotic romantically.

Someone can have enormous ambition and very little emotional availability.

Oh and sometimes, the very qualities that helped someone become successful can make relationships more challenging…

Drive can become workaholism.

Independence can become emotional distance.

Confidence can become an unwillingness to compromise.

A packed diary can become a life where nobody else really fits.

None of these things are inevitable.

But they are worth noticing.

If marriage and children are the goal, when do you make room for them?

There is another part of this conversation that we do not talk about enough.

What happens when a highly successful man reaches his 40s and says:

“I want to get married.”

“I want a wife.”

“I want children.”

Those are wonderful ambitions.

But if they are genuinely important, they cannot remain permanently in the category of “one day.”because relationships take time.

You do not simply meet someone on Tuesday, decide you want marriage on Wednesday and have a family by Friday.

You have to meet.

Date.

Get to know one another.

Work out whether your values align.

Discover whether you communicate well.

Establish sexual and emotional compatibility.

Navigate differences.

Build trust.

Develop commitment.

For couples who want children, there is another reality that needs to be acknowledged.

Fertility is not completely under our control.

Female fertility declines with age, particularly from the mid 30s onwards, and fertility difficulties become more common as women get older. That does not mean women in their 40s cannot have healthy pregnancies. They absolutely can. It does not mean every couple will experience fertility difficulties either.

But it does mean that fertility should not be treated as an unlimited resource that can simply be dealt with later.

This is where I think some high achieving men may need to have a more honest conversation with themselves. If you genuinely want marriage and children, when are you going to create the space for the relationship that could lead to them?

Because waiting until your mid 40s and then assuming:

“I’ll just find a younger woman.”

is not necessarily the straightforward solution people imagine.

Firstly, the woman has to want you.

Secondly, she has to want the same kind of relationship.

Thirdly, your values and lifestyles need to align.

Fourthly, she has to want children with you.

And fifthly, you still have to build an actual relationship.

Age does not magically manufacture compatibility.

A younger woman is not a fertility strategy. She is a person.

She has her own ambitions.

Her own timeline.

Her own relationship history.

Her own standards.

Her own hopes for marriage and family.

And she gets to decide whether the life someone is offering is one she wants.

This is not about blaming men for prioritising their careers

Ambition is not a problem, Success is not a problem. Wanting financial security before having children is not a problem. Building a career before settling down is not a problem.

The issue is whether the life you are building leaves room for the life you say you want.

If marriage and children are genuinely important, then partnership needs to become part of the architecture of your life rather than something you hope will somehow fit into the leftover space.

And there is an uncomfortable irony here.

Some highly successful men spend their 30s and early 40s building extraordinary careers, businesses, wealth and independence, while telling themselves that relationships and family can be prioritised later.

Then later arrives.

And suddenly they discover that dating is not an Amazon Prime catalogue where you simply select the age bracket you would like delivered to your door.

There are real human beings involved.

Women have their own ambitions.

Their own children or desire for children.

Their own fertility considerations.

Their own relationship histories.

Their own standards.

And they get to decide whether the life someone is offering is one they want.

And women have agency too

This conversation is not about telling women to wait patiently for a successful man to eventually decide he is ready.

We are allowed to ask questions.

What are you actually looking for?

Do you want marriage?

Do you want children?

What kind of timeline do you have in mind?

Do you actually have the capacity to build that relationship?

Those are not unreasonable questions when two adults are dating with serious intentions.

We do not have to be endlessly understanding of someone’s career while quietly putting our own needs on hold.

We do not have to become the easiest woman in the world to accommodate.

And we do not have to pretend that our time, our emotional energy and our hopes for the future are somehow less important because someone else’s career is impressive.

You cannot build a family with someone’s potential

This might be one of the most important lessons in the entire conversation. You cannot build a relationship with someone’s potential. You cannot build a marriage with what someone says they will eventually become. You cannot build a family with a future version of someone who might one day have more time.

You build it with the person who is actually showing up.

That does not mean someone needs to have everything figured out before they meet you…None of us do.

But there needs to be evidence that they are capable of creating space for the life they say they want.

So how do you know whether there is room for you?

Perhaps not by counting texts.

Perhaps not by analysing how quickly he responds.

Perhaps not by deciding that three hours without a reply means he has lost interest.

Look at the broader pattern.

Does he make plans?

Does he keep them?

Does he communicate when plans change?

Does he check in?

Does he remember?

Does he call when he says he will?

Does he ask questions?

Does he listen?

Does he show curiosity about your life?

Does he make space?

And perhaps most importantly:

Do you feel like a person he is building a life around, or an appointment he is fitting into one?There is a huge difference.

You do not need to win a place in someone’s diary

I think this is perhaps the biggest lesson. When we are attracted to someone who is highly successful, it can be easy to start treating their availability as a prize.

He gave me Thursday.

He called me.

He’s fitting me in.

He’s finally got some time.

But a relationship should not permanently feel like you are trying to secure an appointment.

You do not need to compete with someone’s career.

You do not need to become the easiest woman in the world to accommodate.

You do not need to suppress your needs so you do not look demanding.

You need to discover whether there is mutual room.

Because ultimately, relationships are not built from spare time.

They are built from intentional time.

And perhaps this is the real question

Not:

“Is he busy?”

Not:

“Does he like me?”

Not even:

“Why doesn’t he text more?”

But:

“Does this person have the capacity to build the kind of relationship I actually want?”

Because a man can be wonderful.

He can be successful, kind, attractive, funny, interesting, ambitious and driven.

He can genuinely like you…And still not have the capacity to give you the consistency and communication you need.

That does not necessarily make him wrong.. And girl, it does not make you needy.

It may simply mean your lives, expectations and emotional rhythms do not fit and that is something worth discovering early, because the goal of dating is not to convince somebody to make room for you.

It is to find out whether there is naturally enough room for both of you.

And sometimes, the most useful piece of information a person gives you is not what they say.

It is the pattern of what they repeatedly do.

The Evolution of a Woman: Redefining success in 2026

There is something incredibly powerful about walking into a room full of women who genuinely want to see one another succeed.

As I sat surrounded by other female entrepreneurs, business owners, professionals and creatives at a networking event yesterday, I found myself reflecting on just how much the world has changed. The conversations weren’t about competing with one another. They weren’t about who earned the most money, who drove the nicest car or who carried the newest designer handbag. Instead, they were about sharing ideas, opening doors, celebrating achievements and encouraging one another to take the next step.

It made me wonder whether we’ve quietly witnessed one of the biggest social shifts in modern history.

Forty years ago, the opportunities available to women looked very different. Whilst there have always been remarkable women who challenged expectations, many still grew up believing that security came from finding the right partner rather than creating opportunities for themselves. Financial independence was harder to achieve, business ownership was less common for women than it is today, and the expectation that men would be the primary breadwinner remained deeply rooted in society.

Those expectations didn’t appear overnight. For thousands of years, human societies evolved around different roles within families and communities. In many cultures, men often undertook physically demanding tasks such as hunting, protection and resource acquisition, while women played vital roles in raising children, gathering food, maintaining communities and creating the social bonds that allowed families to survive. Modern anthropology reminds us that these roles were often far more flexible than popular myths suggest, but they shaped expectations that lasted for generations.


One of the most fascinating things about psychology is that whilst our brains evolved in environments that looked very different from today’s world, they continue to adapt to the society we live in. For generations, survival often depended upon clear family roles, with security coming from stability and cooperation within small communities. Today, many women find themselves navigating entirely different expectations. We’re encouraged to build careers, raise children, nurture relationships, care for ageing parents, maintain friendships, prioritise our wellbeing and somehow succeed in every area simultaneously. It’s hardly surprising that so many women feel mentally exhausted. Modern psychology reminds us that whilst our opportunities have expanded dramatically, our brains are still learning how to navigate a world that asks us to wear so many different hats.

Fast forward to today and the picture is changing at an extraordinary pace.

Across the UK and around the world, women have been founding businesses, leading organisations, entering industries that were once dominated by men and creating financial independence on their own terms. Female entrepreneurship continues to grow, more women than ever are pursuing higher education, and increasing numbers are balancing careers, business ownership and motherhood simultaneously. Progress hasn’t removed every barrier, but it has undoubtedly expanded the possibilities available to women.

When I look around a room full of women in business at networking events, I don’t just see accountants, consultants, scientists, creatives, therapists or entrepreneurs.

I see courage.

I see women taking risks that previous generations often couldn’t.

I see women rebuilding after divorce, changing careers in their forties, launching businesses whilst raising children, studying for degrees at night and refusing to believe that one chapter of life should define the rest of it.

Perhaps that’s why these rooms feel different, they aren’t built on competition, they’re built on possibility.

I Sometimes I wonder what the women who fought for equal opportunities would think if they walked into a room like this today. A room filled with female entrepreneurs, business owners, professionals and leaders, openly sharing ideas, encouraging one another and building opportunities together. I suspect many would feel proud. Not because the journey is complete, but because each generation of women has continued to build upon the progress of those who came before them.

Before we talk about success today, it’s worth remembering how extraordinary the journey of women has been. My grandmother’s generation lived in a world with very different expectations. My mother’s generation pushed against many of those boundaries. My generation was raised believing we could have it all, Careers, Businesses, Families, Financial independence, Freedom. Yet with every new opportunity came new expectations, and perhaps that’s one of the greatest paradoxes of modern womanhood. We’ve gained choices our grandmothers could only dream of, but we’ve also inherited pressures they never experienced.

The twentieth century changed everything. Women won the right to vote, entered universities in greater numbers, broke into professions once closed to them and gradually moved into leadership positions across business, politics, science and the arts. Women such as Rosa Parks, Margaret Thatcher, Marie Curie, Maya Angelou, Oprah Winfrey, Anita Roddick and Sara Blakely each challenged expectations in different ways. Whether or not we agree with every decision they made, they demonstrated something powerful: that women could shape industries, influence societies and redefine leadership on their own terms. Every generation has built another step in the staircase the next generation climbs.

When I think about my own journey, I realise that success has worn many different faces.

At thirty years old, I thought I’d achieved everything I’d ever wanted.

I’d built my own house from the ground up, my own design and dream. I had a six figure income. There was a brand new Range Rover on the drive and I’d bought my then husband a brand new Audi. My wardrobe was filled with designer labels, from Christian Louboutin to Jimmy Choo, and from the outside looking in, life appeared exactly as I’d imagined success would look.

At that age, I was incredibly proud of what I’d achieved, and I still am. No one can ever take away the fact that I built those businesses, took those risks or created that life.

Those achievements are part of my story.

But if I’m completely honest…

I wasn’t happy.

Looking back now, I can see that I had become consumed by achievement. Every milestone simply led to another target. Every success became another expectation. I measured progress by numbers, possessions and productivity because that was the language I’d learnt success was supposed to speak.

Positive psychology has transformed the way we understand success. For many years, researchers assumed that achievement, income and status naturally led to happiness. Yet decades of research suggest something far more interesting. Once our basic financial needs are met, lasting wellbeing is influenced far more by purpose, meaningful relationships, autonomy and a sense of belonging than by accumulating more possessions. Looking back, I can clearly see that I was chasing external measures of success because I believed they would eventually make me feel fulfilled. What I didn’t realise was that fulfilment isn’t something we buy; it’s something we build through the life we create and the people we choose to become.

I was constantly chasing.

Constantly working.

Constantly thinking about the next goal.

At the time, I didn’t know any different.

Business wasn’t simply something I did; it had become who I was.

Years later, I would begin to understand something that psychology has explored for decades. Whilst financial security matters enormously, particularly when our basic needs are being met, lasting wellbeing tends to come from something much deeper than status or possessions. Research consistently shows that purpose, meaningful relationships, autonomy and a sense of belonging contribute far more to long term happiness than material success alone.

I didn’t know that at thirty, I just knew how to work and work I did.

People often asked me why I continued working for other companies whilst running several businesses of my own. The answer was simple. I wanted financial freedom. I wanted choices. I wanted to build something that nobody could ever take away from me.

As a woman, and later as a single mother, that independence mattered.

It still does.

Last year someone I dated suggested that I should give up my businesses, let go of my studies and find what he described as a “hobby job.” His view was that he would provide financially and that no wife of his would need to work. I’m sure those words were spoken from his own beliefs about relationships rather than with any intention to offend.

But they landed very differently.

For someone who had spent over two decades building businesses, taking risks, succeeding, failing, starting again and creating opportunities for herself, it wasn’t romantic.

It felt like someone was asking me to give away a part of my identity.

Not because I believe every woman should own a business.

Not because I think everyone should prioritise work.

But because every woman deserves the freedom to choose the life she wants to build.

That, to me, is what empowerment really means.

It’s not about earning more than somebody else.

It’s not about proving anything.

It’s about having choices.

Looking back now, I often describe the biggest change in my life as a shift in my energy. Some people might call it moving from a lower frequency to a higher frequency. Others might describe it as growing emotionally, becoming more secure or simply discovering what truly matters. Whatever language you choose, the change was profound. I stopped asking, “How do I look successful?” and started asking, “What kind of life actually feels meaningful?”

That single question changed everything.


If somebody had told the thirty year old version of me that one day I’d happily swap designer shoes for a pair from Primark, I’d probably have laughed. Not because there is anything wrong with either, but because my priorities were completely different.

Back then, success was something I could see. It was measured in cars, salaries, business growth and the life I had built around me. Today, success is something I feel. Somewhere along the journey, my perspective changed.

Perhaps it was becoming a mother.

Perhaps it was experiencing burnout.

Perhaps it was losing everything I once believed defined me.

Or perhaps growth simply has a way of stripping away everything that isn’t truly important.

The truth is, I no longer care about impressing anyone.

That doesn’t mean I’ve stopped being ambitious. If anything, I’m more ambitious than I’ve ever been. The difference is that my ambition now has purpose behind it. I no longer work to prove my worth. I work to create a life that aligns with my values.

For years, people would often say to me, “You’re crazy.” Looking back, they probably weren’t wrong.

There was a period when I left my childs father with nothing but a spare bed and two seater sofa, where I worked a full time job whilst running multiple businesses at the same time. I was determined to create financial security, buy my own home and build a future that nobody could take away from me. I genuinely believed that if I just worked a little harder, slept a little less and pushed myself a little further, everything would eventually fall into place.

What I didn’t understand was that there is always a price to pay when we live as though we’re machines instead of human beings. Eventually, my body made the decision that my mind refused to make. I burnt out, I had been awake at 5am every day and not going to bed till midnight, trying to juggle a corporate role and run my own businesses, and this was not just Monday to Friday, it was every day for nearly two years. My weight dropped dramatically, my health deteriorated and I fell unwell both physically and mentally, perhaps hardest of all, I realised my son wasn’t getting the best version of me. That was the wake up call I needed

Modern psychology tells us that today’s women are often carrying an invisible mental load. Beyond paid work, many continue to organise family life, manage relationships, remember birthdays, arrange appointments, plan meals and carry the emotional wellbeing of those around them. Researchers describe this as cognitive and emotional labour, and whilst it often goes unnoticed, it consumes enormous mental energy. Perhaps it’s no surprise that so many capable women find themselves exhausted. We aren’t simply doing more than previous generations; we’re often expected to be exceptional in every area of life at once.

No business, no salary and no ambition is worth sacrificing the moments you can never get back. I was missing his little life. However as any single parent knows, to afford household bills and nursery bills, you need two salaries and even then it’s not enough.

That doesn’t mean I regret those years.

Far from it.

Those years taught me resilience. They taught me discipline. They taught me how to solve problems, how to manage people, how to build businesses and how to recover when things didn’t go to plan.

Some of my businesses flourished. Others didn’t.

One of the hardest decisions I ever made was closing my e-commerce business. It wasn’t simply a business. It represented years of hard work, creativity and relationships with incredible people. I had the privilege of working alongside talented staff, models and videographers who poured their own passion into making it successful.

Closing that chapter wasn’t failure.

It was recognising that life had changed, and so had I, moving towards and over the 40 mark changed me, I finally felt grounded.

One lesson entrepreneurship teaches you very quickly is that success isn’t always about holding on. Sometimes it’s about knowing when to let go so that you can create space for something new.

That’s exactly what I chose to do.

To the frustration of my accountant, who had looked after me for many years, I made another decision that surprised people.

I chose education over income. On paper, it probably didn’t make sense to others, Why walk away from businesses that were generating money to study in your forties?

Because, for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t making decisions based purely on financial return.

I was making decisions based on purpose, on fulfilment, with my heart.

Like many people, I’d spent years trying to work out where I truly belonged. I enjoyed recruitment. I enjoyed sales. I loved building businesses. I competed against others and myself and it gave me that reward and chase that had felt at the time so satisfying, yet every role taught me something valuable. But none of them quite answered the question I’d been asking myself for years.

“What work makes me feel most alive?”

Studying relationship psychology, coaching and therapeutic approaches finally gave me that answer.

For the first time, I wasn’t simply building businesses. I was building a career that reflected who I was becoming and deep down I think I was recognising who I had always been…

That shift changed everything. It also changed the way I looked at money. When I was younger, I thought wealth was measured by what I owned.

Now, wealth looks very different.

It’s sitting on a beach in California watching my little boy laugh as the waves crash onto the shore.

It’s collecting memories instead of possessions, It’s having dinner with friends and people who inspire me. It’s being able to choose work that feels meaningful rather than simply profitable.

It’s having enough, rather than constantly chasing more.

Don’t misunderstand me, Financial independence still matters enormously to me. I’ve worked too hard to pretend otherwise.

As a single mother, I understand exactly what it means to carry responsibility. Bills don’t disappear because you’ve decided to become more spiritual. Mortgages don’t pay themselves because you’ve embraced mindfulness. Financial security creates freedom, and freedom creates choice.

That’s one of the reasons I still take on additional work when opportunities arise, not because I’m chasing status, but because responsibility matters.

People often forget that behind every business are human beings. When you employ people, you’re not simply paying wages. You’re helping someone pay their rent. You’re helping another family cover their mortgage. You’re contributing towards school uniforms, holidays, food shopping and futures.

That responsibility never leaves you.

If taking on another project means protecting somebody else’s livelihood, I’ll do it every time, and that’s a dedication I make to the women I employ, when the business dips, I feel the weight and I work my ass off to ensure I don’t have to disappoint or let people down.

I’ve realised that leadership isn’t about standing in front.

It’s about standing behind people when they need you most.

Motherhood has reinforced that lesson more than anything else.

Today, when I budget, I don’t see limitation. I see intention. I don’t feel deprived because I choose high street over designer labels.

I feel grateful that I can spend that money taking my son travelling, introducing him to different cultures and creating memories that neither of us will ever forget.

Ironically, I feel wealthier now than I did when I owned far more, because peace has become my greatest luxury and that’s something money alone could never buy.

The Women We Are Becoming

As I looked around the room at the networking event, I found myself smiling.

Not because every woman there had the same story, but because every woman there had a different one.

Some were just starting their first business. Others had built companies over decades. Some were returning to work after raising children. Others were changing careers in their forties or fifties. Some were leading teams, while others were taking the terrifying first step towards becoming self-employed.

Every journey was different.

Yet there was one thing that connected us all.

Courage.

For all the conversations about women supporting women, it was refreshing to experience it rather than simply read about it. There was no sense of competition. Nobody was trying to prove they were the most successful person in the room. Conversations flowed naturally, advice was shared generously and introductions were made without expecting anything in return.

That, to me, is what real networking should look like.

It’s not about collecting business cards.

It’s about building relationships.

Perhaps that’s why rooms full of supportive women feel so different. Psychology has consistently shown that human beings thrive when they experience connection, encouragement and psychological safety. We become more creative when we don’t fear judgement, more resilient when we feel supported and more confident when someone believes in us before we fully believe in ourselves. Maybe that’s why women supporting women is so much more than a slogan. It isn’t simply good for business; it’s good for our wellbeing, our confidence and, ultimately, for the next generation of women watching us.

Psychologists have long understood that human beings thrive through connection. We are wired to belong. Supportive relationships improve resilience, reduce stress and even encourage us to take opportunities we might never have taken alone. Behind almost every successful entrepreneur is a network of people who believed in them, challenged them or simply reminded them to keep going on the difficult days.

Perhaps that’s why these rooms feel so energising. When people celebrate one another instead of competing, something changes.

Ideas grow.

Confidence grows.

People grow.

Perhaps another fascinating shift is what we’re learning about the diversity of women’s minds. In recent years, thousands of women have received diagnoses of ADHD and autism later in life after decades of being overlooked. It raises an interesting question. Are women’s brains changing, or are we finally beginning to understand them properly? The evidence suggests the latter, but it reminds us that our understanding of women continues to evolve. Every decade seems to uncover something previous generations simply didn’t recognise.

Looking back over the last twenty one years of running businesses, I can honestly say there isn’t one perfect path to success.

I’ve made brilliant decisions, I’ve made expensive mistakes, I’ve started businesses, I’ve closed businesses, I’ve changed direction more than once.

I’ve taken risks that paid off beyond my expectations, and I’ve taken others that taught me lessons no textbook ever could.

Would I change any of it?

No, because every success and every setback has brought me to where I am today.

People sometimes describe me as a “jack of all trades.” Years ago, I wasn’t always sure whether that was meant as a compliment.

Today, I wear it with pride.

Every industry I’ve worked in has taught me something about people. Every business has taught me resilience. Every role has developed skills that I now carry into the next chapter of my life.

There is no such thing as wasted experience. Only experience we haven’t yet understood the value of.

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learnt is that success is never a straight line. Life doesn’t move neatly from one achievement to the next. Sometimes we have to step backwards before we can move forwards. Sometimes we close a business to discover a calling. Sometimes we leave a career we’ve spent years building because we’ve finally found one that feels like home. Sometimes we lose everything we thought defined us, only to realise that our greatest strength was never what we owned.

It was who we became while building it. That’s why nobody can ever take away what I achieved at thirty.

Yes, the house is gone. The cars are gone. The designer wardrobe has long since lost its importance.

But nobody can erase the determination, courage and resilience it took to build that life in the first place.

Those qualities are still mine and if I built it once, I know I can build again.

The difference is this time, I may have a smaller house, and a cheaper car, but the house is mine, and its my home, my little boys home, and I brought it. 

I’m no longer chasing success because I want people to admire it. I’m building a life my son can learn from. I want him to grow up understanding that success isn’t about what somebody owns.

It’s about how they treat people.

It’s about integrity.

It’s about showing kindness when nobody is watching.

It’s about having the courage to keep going when life doesn’t unfold as planned.

He’s already beginning to understand that.

If he wants something, he earns it.

If he wants a new toy, he helps around the house.

If we travel, he understands that those experiences come from hard work, planning and sacrifice.

They’re not things to be taken for granted.

They’re things to appreciate.

More than anything, I hope he grows up seeing a mother who wasn’t afraid to start again, because that’s another lesson we don’t talk about enough.

Starting again isn’t failure.

It’s courage.

Women have spent generations proving that they belong in boardrooms, lecture theatres, laboratories, creative industries and businesses of every kind. Today, I believe the conversation is changing again.

It’s no longer simply about proving we belong, It’s about deciding how we want to lead.

Do we lead with ego or empathy?

Do we build businesses that simply generate profit, or businesses that genuinely improve people’s lives?

Do we compete with one another, or do we open doors for the women walking behind us?

For me, the answer has become incredibly simple.

Success means lifting other people as you climb.

It means celebrating another woman’s promotion without questioning your own worth.

It means recommending someone else’s business because you genuinely believe in what they do.

It means recognising that there is enough room for all of us to succeed.

Years ago, I thought life was about reaching the destination. Now I know life is about becoming the person you meet along the way. The woman I am today isn’t the woman I was at thirty.

She’s calmer, She’s kinder to herself, She’s less interested in impressing people and more interested in understanding them.

She still dreams big, She still works hard, She still believes in building businesses and creating financial independence but she also knows that the richest life isn’t measured by numbers on a bank statement. It’s measured by the conversations that change us.

The friendships that sustain us, The work that gives us purpose, The memories we create with the people we love.

Perhaps this is the real evolution of women. It isn’t simply that we can vote, own businesses or build careers, important as those milestones are. It’s that more women are beginning to define success for themselves. Success no longer has to mean following a script written by society, family or tradition. It can mean building a business, raising children, travelling the world, changing careers at forty, returning to university, or simply creating a life that feels authentic. That freedom to choose may be one of the greatest achievements of all.

As women, we’ve come further than many of our grandmothers could ever have imagined. We still have challenges to overcome, inequalities to address and barriers to break, but we’ve also created opportunities that previous generations fought hard for us to have.

That deserves celebrating.

So, here’s to the women who dare to start businesses.

To the women changing careers in their forties.

To the women rebuilding after divorce.

To the women raising children whilst studying for degrees.

To the women quietly carrying responsibilities that nobody else ever sees.

To the women taking risks.

To the women starting again.

And to every woman who has ever looked in the mirror and wondered whether she was capable of more.

You are.

You always were.

Sometimes, you simply need another woman to remind you.