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 ParksMargaret ThatcherMarie CurieMaya AngelouOprah WinfreyAnita 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.

The Missing Ingredient: Are We So Busy Living That We’ve Forgotten to Love?

I feel like, in today’s day and age, we’re forgetting our age.

We’re forgetting how quickly time passes us by.

We’re spending so many years trying to cling on to our youth. Desperate to be seen. Desperate to be validated. Desperate to keep our options open. Desperate to have variety when it comes to sex. Desperate not to settle down too soon, commit too quickly, or somehow miss out on something better that might be waiting around the corner.

But in doing all of that, I wonder if we’re actually missing one of the most crucial ingredients of a genuinely happy life.

Love.

Meaningless hookups don’t make a happy life.

Yes, they might leave you feeling happy for a night. Maybe even for 24 hours. There’s excitement. There’s attraction. There’s validation. There’s that temporary high of being wanted.

But then what? 

Who do you call when something incredible happens?

Who hugs you when you’ve achieved something you’ve worked years for?

Who knows the tiny details of your life that wouldn’t mean anything to anybody else?

Who do you turn to and say, “Fuck it. Should we just go on holiday?”

Who do you build the memories with?

I seldom talk about myself personally in my blogs. As a coach and trainee therapist, I’m conscious of boundaries and how much of myself I bring into the work that I do, but on this occasion, I thought, why not… because recently I’ve started to realise something that actually brings me a great deal of sadness.

Some of the best years of my life, I’m spending alone.

We all look towards the future and think, I don’t want to grow old and be lonely.

But what if we’re looking too far ahead?

What if some of us are spending the best years of our lives alone right now?I’m in my 40s. I feel good in myself. I’ve done an enormous amount of healing, I’ve worked on myself, body and mind, I’ve built a life. I’m raising my child, I’m studying, I’m working,I’m travelling. I’m achieving things I’m proud of. Yet, sometimes, I look around at my friends who are in relationships.

They’re off to Italy. Mykonos. America. Australia.

They’re seeing the world. they’re going for date nights, they’re having weekends away. they’re building a collection of memories that belong to the two of them.

And then there’s me…. 

Going on my solo trips, Travelling with my child, waiting to see who can get childcare and plan that once a year night out…

And don’t misunderstand me, I absolutely love travelling with my child. Those memories are some of the most precious memories of my life. 

I have friends. I have family. I have a child I adore, I mean I’m not always sitting at home with nobody in my life… lol, But sometimes I sit there and think:

I’d love some romance in my life.

I’d love somebody to share all of this with.

I thought, last year, that maybe I’d found that.

It wasn’t meant to be.

If I’m completely honest, it felt like 50% of the relationship was love bombing and the final three months were spent with me acting as a personal therapist. The push pull dynamic, never knowing where you stand is Toxic, and not for my own attachment style at all..

Wrong person… Wrong relationship. 

Perhaps even the wrong relationships can teach us something about what we actually want. I remember being in Ibiza once and going on a date with a gorgeous Portuguese guy called Francisco. We had such a good date.He took me for a beautiful dinner. We went for drinks. We talked.

And at one point, he looked at me and said:

“Kerry, do you get lonely?” as we talked about what it’s like to be single..

And I said no.

Because I’m not lonely… Not in the traditional sense of the word, more so in an empty bed kind of way! As a mother, I have my child. I have friends. I have family. I have people I love and people who love me.

But there’s a particular kind of connection I miss.

I miss my person.

Recently, I completed another year of study. I got the message congratulating me on passing and in that moment, I missed having somebody there to congratulate me.

Someone to give me a hug.

Someone to ask how I felt.

Someone who understood how much work had gone into getting there.

And equally, I miss being that person for somebody else.

I miss praising someone.

I miss making somebody feel good.

I miss having someone walk through the door and being genuinely excited to hear about their day.

I miss having somebody say:

“Fuck it. Should we just go on holiday?”

Or:

“Should we go out tonight?”

I miss the spontaneity that comes from having somebody to do life with.

And recently I’ve realised something.

Life is just passing by.

We’re such slaves to work. Slaves to money. Slaves to our schedules. Slaves to this idea that we need to have everything sorted before we’re allowed to make room for love.

We tell ourselves:

I’m too busy.

I’ve got too much going on.

I haven’t got the capacity for a relationship.

Maybe when work calms down.

Maybe when the children are older.

Maybe when I’ve healed a little bit more.

Maybe when I’ve achieved this.

Maybe when I’ve sorted that.

But when exactly is life going to become completely uncomplicated?

Probably never.. and I think I’ve been guilty of this too.

Sometimes I push people away because I tell myself I’m not ready.

I tell myself I don’t have the time or capacity for a relationship because I’m so busy with work, but maybe they just haven’t been the right people.

Because there’s an important distinction here.

I don’t need anybody, but I would like somebody.

There’s a huge difference.

But I also wonder whether some of us have become a little too good at not needing anybody.

We celebrate independence. We celebrate the person who has been hurt, picked themselves back up, built their own life and learnt how to stand completely on their own two feet and rightly so.

However, psychologically, there’s something interesting that can happen when you’ve spent a long time having to rely on yourself. Independence can become more than a strength. It can become protection.

You become so accustomed to solving your own problems that asking for help feels uncomfortable. So used to carrying everything yourself that letting somebody carry something for you feels almost unnatural. So capable of regulating your own life that allowing another person into it starts to feel like a disruption rather than an addition and perhaps that’s where hyper-independence can creep in.

There’s a difference between I can do this alone and I must do this alone.

There’s a difference between choosing independence and being so afraid of depending on another human being that you never allow yourself to experience interdependence, the healthy middle ground where two capable people choose to lean on each other without losing themselves.

I think that’s something I’ve had to question within myself.

Am I genuinely too busy for a relationship?

Or have I become so accustomed to doing everything myself that I’ve convinced myself there simply isn’t room for another person?

Because maybe the goal was never to need nobody.

Maybe the goal was to know that I could survive alone, while still allowing myself to admit that life might be nicer shared.

I don’t want somebody because I can’t survive alone. I’ve already proved that I can. I don’t need someone to rescue me. I don’t need somebody to financially support me. I don’t need somebody to give me an identity.

I’ve built my own life.

But being capable of doing life alone doesn’t necessarily mean I want to do all of it alone. I want somebody who matches my energy.

I want somebody who asks me how I am in the morning.

“Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?”

Someone who checks in during the day.

“How’s your day going?”

Someone who says goodnight.

“Goodnight, darling.”

It doesn’t have to be constant communication. We’re adults. We’re busy. We have jobs. Children. Responsibilities.

However, I miss those little moments of knowing that somewhere in the world, somebody is thinking about you.

That ten-minute phone call at night:

“I just thought I’d ring you. I miss your voice.”

That’s what I miss.

That person checking in.

That person to share it all with.

Although, I have female best friends whom I’m incredibly grateful for, I miss having a best friend who is also my partner.

Someone who’s your lover, your teammate, your safe place and the person you laugh with over something nobody else would find remotely funny.

When I became single and left my child’s father, I left because I needed to find myself, I needed to find happiness, I needed to heal. I needed to grow and spread my wings like a butterfly.

I had been in an unhappy relationship, but I was also very unhealed and very unhappy within myself at the time.

So I left, I found myself, I built a different life and somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I always assumed I’d meet somebody.

When I met someone in 2025, I remember thinking:

Yeah. I’m ready for this.

Sadly, he wasn’t the right person.

I chose wrong.

However that doesn’t mean wanting the relationship was wrong.

Lately, I’ve had the strangest feeling, I can’t even properly comprehend it. I almost feel like maybe there’s a relationship around the corner. Of course I’ve chatted to people. I’ve been on a couple of dates over the past couple of years, but recently I’ve found myself looking at the people in my life and wondering:

Have I already met him?

Is it somebody I’ve never had a relationship with before?

Could it be somebody from my past?

For me, it’s rarely going to be somebody old because I don’t particularly like looking backwards, an ex is an ex for a reason….

Or is he somebody I haven’t met yet?

I genuinely don’t know.

I just have this weird gut feeling I’ve had for the last few weeks that maybe there is somebody out there for me.

Perhaps the bigger realisation is this:

Maybe I have to make myself available for him.

Not available in the sense of downloading every dating app and desperately searching for a relationship.

Emotionally available.

Making space.

Stop telling myself I’m too busy.

Stop telling myself I’ve got too much stress.

Stop telling myself I’ve got too much pressure.

Maybe if I let the right person in, some of that stress wouldn’t feel quite so heavy. Maybe life isn’t supposed to be something we carry entirely by ourselves.

So what are we doing as human beings?

Why do we push away good things because we tell ourselves we haven’t got time for them? the irony is we’re right.

We haven’t got time.

Just perhaps not in the way we think.

We haven’t got unlimited time.

We’re spending it every single day.

We’re just not always spending it on the things that will matter when we look back.

I look at my own life and think:

I’m always working.

I’m studying.

I’ve got my child.

Where exactly am I supposed to fit a relationship into all of this?

But then I think about last year, I had fewer staff, I was arguably even busier.

Yet somehow I fitted a relationship in perfectly.

It worked, It worked around childcare, It worked around work.

We gave each other time.

Sometimes it was simply a couple of nights a week being in his arms and it was nice.

Again, wrong person.

Perhaps that relationship taught me something important. When the cards are actually on the table and a relationship is genuinely on offer, I can make space for it.

Maybe I do want a relationship…. Actually, I know I do.

Because I don’t want to spend the best years of my life, in my prime, creating all these incredible memories and have nobody beside me who remembers them too.

I don’t want to meet somebody in my 50s and say:

“Do you remember when I did this?”

“Do you remember when I went there?”

And then realise: No. Of course they don’t.

Because they weren’t there.

Sometimes I look at older couples who’ve spent decades together. They’re old, they’re grey, life has slowed down, yet they have this enormous invisible library between them.

A lifetime of memories.

“Do you remember that holiday?”

“Do you remember when the children were little?”

“Do you remember that ridiculous restaurant?”

“Do you remember when we got completely lost?”

“Do you remember when we couldn’t stop laughing?”

Their bodies have aged, their lives have changed, but they have decades of remember whens. I’ve come to realise something I genuinely didn’t think I’d ever say.

I’m not just ready for love.

I’m ready for somebody to share my life with.

I’m ready to build memories with somebody.

I’m ready to grow alongside somebody.

I’m ready to create a family life together.

I’m ready for a partner.

..and believe me, I’m quite stubborn. It’s taken me a while to admit that.

Because our culture celebrates independence—and rightly so.

We tell people:

You don’t need anyone.

Learn to love yourself.

Be happy alone.

Don’t settle.

Know your worth.

And all of those things are important.

But I wonder whether somewhere along the way we’ve taken a healthy message and pushed it too far. We’ve started confusing independence with emotional isolation. We’ve started treating needing connection as weakness. We’ve become so frightened of appearing needy that sometimes we’re afraid to admit we have needs at all. We tell ourselves that the second somebody doesn’t meet every expectation, we should cut them off.

That there’s always another option.

Another swipe.

Another person.

Another date.

Another body.

We’ve created endless choice while somehow becoming increasingly disconnected and I wonder whether modern dating has inadvertently taught us to approach human beings like products.

We scroll. We swipe. We compare.

Too short.

Too tall.

Too available.

Not available enough.

Too keen.

Not keen enough.

Wrong job.

Wrong location.

Wrong shoes.

Next.

Of course, having standards is important. Boundaries are important. Compatibility matters enormously, but the paradox of having so much choice is that sometimes, instead of making us more certain, it can make us less satisfied with whatever we choose.

There’s always the lingering possibility that somebody better might be one swipe away and relationships don’t work particularly well when we’re constantly looking over somebody’s shoulder to see who else has just walked into the room.

I also wonder if we’ve created something of an avoidant dating culture.

Not because everyone is avoidantly attached, that would be far too simplistic, but because many of the behaviours modern dating normalises can look remarkably similar to emotional avoidance.

Keeping things casual, Keeping your options open, Not defining the relationship. Pulling away when things become emotionally intense. Ghosting rather than having an uncomfortable conversation.

Moving on to somebody new rather than working through vulnerability with the person standing in front of you.

We call it freedom.

Sometimes it is.

But sometimes, I wonder if what we’re actually doing is becoming incredibly skilled at avoiding attachment, because real intimacy isn’t found in endlessly meeting new people. It’s built when you stay long enough for somebody to actually know you. Not the version of you on the first date. Not your best photographs. Not your funny stories. Not the version who is effortlessly cool and definitely doesn’t care whether they text back.

You.

And perhaps that’s the uncomfortable thing about love. At some point, you have to stop browsing.

You have to choose.

And then you have to allow yourself to be chosen too.

Maybe that’s why some of us are still single.

Not because there’s nobody good enough out there, Not because we’re broken, Not because love isn’t meant for us, but because somewhere along the way, we became so good at protecting our peace that we forgot love requires us to open the door occasionally.

Of course, boundaries matter, Mine certainly do. If somebody consistently doesn’t give me attention, effort or emotional availability, I will walk away.

I don’t need to chase anybody.

There’s a difference between having boundaries and building walls. There’s a difference between recognising the wrong person and never giving the right person enough room to get close and perhaps that’s the question some of us need to ask ourselves:

Are we genuinely unavailable because life is too busy, or are we using busyness to protect ourselves from being vulnerable again?

Because love does require vulnerability. It requires making room. It requires allowing another human being to matter to you and yes, that means they could hurt you.

But they could also love you. They could also make an ordinary Tuesday feel like something worth remembering. They could be the person sitting beside you decades from now saying:

“Do you remember when…?”

So I asked myself a very simple question.

What do I actually want?

Do I want money? Not particularly.

As long as I have enough to pay my bills and live my life, I’m happy.

Do I want a healthy, happy child? More than anything in the world.

Do I want love? Yes.

Do I want happy memories? Yes.

Do I want a lifetime of togetherness? Yes.

I do.

Maybe that’s the ingredient we’re missing.

Not another achievement, Not another pay rise, Not another follower. Not another person finding us attractive. Not another meaningless hookup. Not another opportunity to prove we don’t need anybody.

Maybe it’s simply having somebody beside you who makes you feel glad you’re alive.

Someone to witness your life.

Someone whose life you get to witness too.

Someone to celebrate with.

Someone to comfort.

Someone to travel with.

Someone to laugh with.

Someone to come home to.

Someone who remembers.

Because one day, if we’re lucky, we’ll all grow old and perhaps the question isn’t only:

Who will be there when I’m old?

Maybe the question we should be asking ourselves now is:

Who do I want to build the memories with that we’ll talk about when we get there?

I don’t need somebody to complete my life.

My life is already full.

But I’ve finally realised… I’d quite like somebody to share it with.

Maybe I’ve spent long enough telling myself I’m too busy for love, because the truth is, life isn’t waiting for any of us to become less busy.

It’s happening now and I don’t want to miss it….

The Stories We Never Knew We Were Telling Ourselves: How Unconscious Bias Shapes Our Careers, Relationships and Happiness

“The biggest barriers in our lives are often the ones we cannot see.”

Most of us like to believe we’re open minded.

We believe we judge people fairly. We tell ourselves we make decisions based on facts, personality and experience. We assume our opinions are our own.

But what if many of our decisions are being influenced by something we’ve never consciously questioned?

This is known as unconscious bias.

Unconscious bias refers to the automatic assumptions, beliefs and mental shortcuts our brains develop over time. These patterns are influenced by childhood experiences, family, culture, education, previous relationships, social media, television and even the conversations we overhear growing up.

They help our brains process information quickly, but they can also lead us to make unfair judgements without realising we’re doing it.

The truth is, every single one of us has unconscious biases. The difference isn’t whether we have them. It’s whether we’re willing to become aware of the,.

The Brain Likes Shortcuts

Imagine meeting someone for the first time. Within seconds you’ve already noticed their appearance, clothing, body language, accent, age and confidence. Your brain has begun creating a story before they’ve even finished introducing themselves.

Sometimes those stories are accurate, however quite often they aren’t.

The human brain is designed to look for patterns because it keeps us safe. Thousands of years ago this was useful for survival. Today, those same shortcuts can influence promotions at work, dating choices, friendships and even how we treat ourselves.

A prime example lies in meeting someone who looks like an ex partner who perhaps deceived our trust, we can meet someone with a resemblance, and before we know it, we are disregarding them without realising.

Unconscious Bias at Work

Think about a typical workplace. A manager interviews two candidates with identical qualifications. One reminds them of someone they worked well with years ago.

The other has a different communication style, dresses differently or appears quieter.

Without intending to, the manager may naturally feel more comfortable with the first candidate. Neither decision feels biased.

It simply feels like instinct.

But instinct is often influenced by previous experiences rather than objective evidence.

Unconscious bias can affect who gets hired, who receives opportunities, who gets promoted and who is viewed as having leadership potential. It can also affect how feedback is given.

Confident people may be described as natural leaders.

Quiet people may be labelled disengaged.

Someone who thinks differently may be seen as difficult rather than innovative.

This is especially important when we consider neurodiversity. Many people with ADHD, autism or dyslexia communicate differently. They may process information differently, avoid eye contact, interrupt through excitement or need additional thinking time.

These differences are not character flaws.

Yet unconscious bias can lead others to misinterpret these behaviours as lack of interest, poor attitude or incompetence. When organisations become aware of unconscious bias, they often discover hidden talent that was overlooked simply because it didn’t fit traditional expectations.

It Doesn’t Stop at the Office Door.. Look at our love lives…

The same thing happens in our love lives. How often have we dismissed someone because they weren’t physically our usual type?

How often have we assumed someone wasn’t interested because they appeared quiet?

How often have we believed confidence equals emotional maturity?

Or assumed attractive people must be happier?

Perhaps you’ve met someone who looked perfect on paper. Successful career, Great appearance, Confident, Funny,

Yet emotionally unavailable.

Meanwhile someone else may have been overlooked because they were nervous on a first date, shy in conversation or didn’t immediately create fireworks. Our unconscious bias often creates a checklist of what love should look like.

Height.

Career.

Income.

Age.

Body type.

Social status.

Confidence.

Lifestyle.

But very few of those things predict whether someone will make us feel emotionally safe, respected or loved. Sometimes we reject wonderful people because they don’t match the picture we’ve created in our minds, or we are comparing them and instantly our mind tells us ‘Unsafe’.

Sometimes we chase people who repeatedly hurt us and reject those who could love us deeply, because of their jobs weight etc etc..

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

Bias isn’t only about how we judge others. It’s also about how we judge ourselves.

Many people carry beliefs they never chose.

“I’m too old.”

“I’m too much.”

“People always leave.”

“No one finds people like me attractive.”

“I’ll never be successful.”

Those thoughts often feel like facts.

But where did they come from?

A childhood experience?

An ex partner?

A teacher?

A parent?

A single painful rejection years ago?

Our brains are incredibly good at collecting evidence to support beliefs we’ve carried for years. We rarely stop to question whether those beliefs are actually true.

Why Coaching Matters

This is one of the reasons I believe coaching can be so powerful. Coaching isn’t about giving people the answers. It’s about helping them discover the questions they’ve never thought to ask.

Why do I always choose emotionally unavailable partners?

Why do I keep avoiding opportunities at work?

Why do I assume people won’t like me?

Why do I believe I’m not good enough?

Why do I keep repeating the same patterns?

Why do I shut down when someone I’m genuinely interested in comes into my orbit?

Many of the answers lie beneath conscious awareness.

A coach helps bring those hidden patterns into the light.

Not through judgement, but through curiosity.

Together you begin noticing the automatic thoughts that influence behaviour. You explore where those thoughts originated. You test whether they’re still serving you and gradually you begin replacing automatic assumptions with conscious choices.

Looking Beyond Behaviour

One of the biggest shifts coaching creates is helping people separate behaviour from identity.

Someone interrupting you may not be rude. They may simply process conversations differently. This happens a lot with Neuro Diverse people.

Someone cancelling plans may not be rejecting you. They may genuinely be overwhelmed.

Someone who seems quiet in meetings may have brilliant ideas but need more time to think.

Equally, someone who appears incredibly confident may actually be masking insecurity.

The more curious we become, the fewer assumptions we make.

Curiosity almost always creates stronger relationships than certainty.

Flawed Thinking Isn’t Failure

One of the most common things coaching uncovers is flawed thinking. Psychologists often refer to these as cognitive distortions. These include believing we know what others are thinking.

Expecting the worst outcome.

Overgeneralising from one experience.

Seeing situations in black and white.

Filtering out positive experiences while focusing only on negatives.

These thinking patterns quietly influence both our personal and professional lives.

If one relationship ended badly, we may assume every future relationship will.

If one interview went poorly, we may decide we’re not capable.

If one manager criticised us, we may stop applying for promotions altogether.

The event ends.

The belief remains.

Coaching helps challenge those beliefs before they become permanent truths.

Awareness Changes Everything

The goal isn’t perfection. No one can completely eliminate unconscious bias.

We’re human.

Our brains will always create shortcuts.

The goal is awareness. Awareness gives us choice. Instead of immediately believing every thought, we become curious. Instead of reacting automatically, we pause. Instead of assuming we know someone’s story, we ask questions.

That pause can completely change a conversation.

It can save relationships.

It can create more inclusive workplaces.

It can open doors we never realised we’d closed.

Imagine What Could Change

Imagine interviewing someone without letting first impressions dominate your decision.

Imagine going on a date with genuine curiosity rather than comparing them with every previous partner.

Imagine recognising when your inner critic is speaking instead of accepting every thought as fact.

Imagine leading a team where different ways of thinking are valued rather than judged.

Imagine choosing people based on emotional compatibility instead of a checklist.

Imagine not judging people on. decisions they’ve made for their lives, just because they don’t match up to your values.

Those small shifts have enormous consequences.

Not only for careers and relationships, but for confidence, wellbeing and happiness.

Final Thoughts

Some of the most important conversations we’ll ever have are the ones we have with ourselves.

Every assumption deserves to be questioned.

Every belief deserves to be explored.

Every pattern deserves our curiosity.

Because when we become aware of our unconscious biases, we don’t just change the way we see other people.

We change the way we see ourselves and that may be the most powerful transformation of all.

If you’ve ever found yourself repeating the same relationship patterns, doubting your own potential or wondering why certain situations keep playing out in your life, coaching offers a space to explore those patterns without judgement. Together, we can uncover the beliefs driving your decisions, challenge thinking that no longer serves you and help you make choices that are aligned with who you are today, rather than who your past taught you to be.

Sometimes, changing your life doesn’t begin with changing your circumstances.

It begins with changing the story you’ve been unconsciously telling yourself.