Live Your BEST coaching

24/03/2026

16/03/2026

Trying harder isn't always the answer.

You know that moment when two LEGO pieces are stuck together . . . and they refuse to come apart?

You pull
You twist
You dig your fingernails in . . and for a split second, you consider using your teeth.

That was me, fulfilling my yearly tradition of pulling apart the LEGO Christmas tree.

Piece by piece . . . until it's back into a pile of different shaped LEGO pieces . . . waiting for next year.

And every year, I feel grateful for one small thing . . . the little LEGO tool, designed to separate the pieces.

Because, without it, the alternatives are:
wreck my fingernails
or resort to using my teeth

The right tool changes everything.
Same effort
Completely different experience
. . it reminded me of how so many women are using the wrong tools to:

feel as if they're enough
try and think their way through emotional decisions
follow strategies that work brilliantly for someone else . . . but not themself
stop feeling guilty about resting instead of pushing harder
. . it's a bit like trying to dismantle LEGO with your teeth

Technically possible, but unnecessarily painful

When you start using tools that actually match how you are designed to work, things shift

Decisions feel clearer
The anxiety lifts
life feels more sustainable and less of an effort
the guilt lifts

Sometimes the transformation isn't about doing more, it's simply about using the right tool.

11/03/2026

"You used to be much more… muchier. You’ve lost your muchness."
The Mad Hatter, Alice in Wonderland

An old school colleague opened her blog with this line, and it stopped me for a moment.

Because as I kept reading, so much of what she described felt familiar.

Being told to calm down.
Tone down the volume of your laugh.
Don’t feel those emotions so strongly.
Don’t be so intense.

Don’t… don’t… don’t.

When you hear messages like that often enough, something shifts internally.

Many of us quietly make a decision about ourselves . . .
that who we naturally are must somehow be too much.

So we apologise.
We soften our voice.
We hide the passionate and creative parts of ourselves.

Sometimes we even become invisible.
(I know I did.)

In Human Design we talk about this as conditioning . . . the ways our environment shapes us to behave in ways that feel safer or more comfortable for others, rather than allowing us the freedom to discover who we naturally are.

As I read her words, I also found myself wondering whether she might be a Projector.

There’s a passion in the way she writes and sees things. Projectors are often described as having a penetrating aura — an ability to see patterns, people and dynamics that others miss.

And sometimes, being seen that clearly can feel intense for people who aren’t used to it.

Which makes me wonder . . . how many of us were told we were too much . . . when we were actually just being ourselves?

Maybe what needed changing was never the person.

Maybe it was simply the environment that didn’t know what to do with them.
And sometimes the real work isn’t becoming less.
It’s remembering who you were before you were taught to dim parts of yourself.
Maybe we didn’t lose our muchness after all.
Maybe we were simply taught to hide it.
And maybe, for some people, rediscovering that “muchness” is exactly where the real journey begins.

11/03/2026

Have you or your medical practitioner considered the root cause of the anxiety you're feeling?

09/03/2026

Happy International Women's Day . . . a global day celebrating the social, economic, cultural and political achievements of women.

Over the centuries, women have been made invisible / erased from science, art and power (The Matilda Effect . . . a documented bias when women's discoveries, ideas and achievements are dismissed, minimised or credited to men instead)

Wifi
GPS
Bluetooth
Windscreen wipers
Home security systems
Kevlar
The structure of DNA
Nuclear fission
Telecommunications
Aquariums
Treatments for malaria
Treatment for leprosy
Automatic dishwashers
Computer programming
Coffee filters
Liquid paper
Paper bags
Foot pedal rubbish bins
Monopoly
Signal flares
Circular saws
Retractable dog leads
Invisible glass
Computers
Chocolate chip cookies
You . . . .

All of these came from a woman

The next time you are feeling small . . . ask yourself . . . whose comfort are you protecting, because it's not yours?

Let yourself be seen
Let yourself take up space
For our daughters
For yourself as a small child long ago . . and for all those girls who come after . . . so their talent never has to hide, and their light never has to ask for permission.

19/02/2026

Looking back, and making space 🌿

I look back at this post . . . and have a quiet chuckle.

None of the original plants in this garden bed remain.
I ended up pulling out the roses . . . even the ones I had carefully transplanted . . . and replaced them with Australian natives.
Low maintenance.
Hardier.

Our minds work the same way.

Old thoughts, old patterns, old beliefs . . . they served a purpose . . . once, but they can weigh us down, drain our energy and take up space.

Real change happens when we:

Gently remove what no longer serves us
Create room for thoughts that easier, lighter and sustainable
Support our nervous system with time and care while integrating new thoughts, new patterns, new beliefs.

Some new thoughts and beliefs take root easily
Others need patience, nurturing and a safe environment before they stand tall.

When we move at a pace that feels safe for our nervous system, change flows naturally. Growth is most effective when it aligns with your body and mind . . . not when it's forced.

Take a moment to reflect:
Which old thoughts are ready to be removed?
Which new beliefs are calling for space to grow . . . the ones that actually support you, instead of weighing you down?

If you're ready to create space for new thoughts and support your nervous system in the process, comment below or send me a message to start.

Transplanting roses & transplanting thoughts 🌹

The other day in the garden, I was transplanting roses. Some came up with a small amount of effort, roots loose and ready to move . . . while others were a battle . . . roots dug in deep, clinging tight as if the old ground was the only safe place. In fact, the one in front is still holding in deep.

Once the one rose I was able to dig out was replanted, it didn't stand tall . . . it has wilted a bit, looking like it might not make it. But I've added in cow manure (roses love manure), and watered it . . . giving it the opportunity to flourish.

Our thoughts are the same:
💭 Some are light and easy to shift
💭 Others are deeply rooted, tangled in old patterns, and take patience to move (lots of patience).
💭 . . . and sometimes, the new ones droop before they settle in.

But when we tend to our inner garden . . . prepping the ground, caring for what we plant, and giving it time . . . those new thoughts and beliefs have every chance to root, grow and bloom.

Because with the right environment, what we nurture can always flourish.

If this resonates with you, take a moment to reflect: what thoughts are ready to be gently lifted, and what new ones are asking to be nurtured? . . and if you're ready to dig in to create space for new growth, comment below, or send me a message to begin.

31/01/2026

Why growth needs protection, not pressure.

I planted seedlings
Not seeds . . . with the expectation they would flourish . . and for a while, they did.

Then I started watering them in the evenings.
and that's when something started eating the leaves.
Not a little nibble
Enough, that I nearly lost them entirely.

I tried crushed eggshells and marigolds . . . creative solutions that helped a little.
Then I moved the pot to sunnier spot, added a piece of copper pipe to the soil and switched watering to the mornings.

The result? Four healthy beans . . . so far.
A small, tangible reminder that thoughtful care and timely adjustments allow growth to thrive, even when challenges appear.

This felt familiar . . . because this is how spiralling thoughts work.
They don't arrive politely
They circle your mind, replaying doubts, second-guessing, questioning . . .
until your energy is drained and progress feels fragile.

The seedlings were not weak.
They just needed protection at the right moment.

Growth doesn't collapse from one bad thought.
It collapses when unchecked mental loops are allowed to feed nonstop . . . just like whatever was eating the leaves.

If your mind has been chewing through your progress lately, that doesn't mean you're failing at personal growth . . . it usually means you're at the edge of a new level . . . and your nervous system is freaking out because it's unfamiliar.

If this resonates:
Like, share or comment . . . and if you're ready for support that calms the mental loops and protects the growth you've already started, Live Your BEST coaching is here to help.

You don't need to start again.
You just need the right conditions to keep growing.

29/01/2026

Life Doesn't Always Go to Plan

Sometimes, a simple, well-planned journey decides it would rather teach you something.

The original plan was neat and sensible: gluten-free dinner on the way in, followed by the last guided tour at the art gallery. Timed. Ordered. Very adult.

Traffic had other ideas.

Every road into the gallery was gridlocked. One stretch moved so slowly we advanced ten metres in twenty minutes . . . a quiet reminder that no amount of planning guarantees momentum.

By the time we arrived, the plan was gone.
No guided tour.
No tidy timeline.
Just us and the exhibition.

And here's the thing . . . it was still a good evening.
Different, yes.
Unplanned, definitely.
But spacious in a way the original plan hadn't allowed for.

Wandering through the exhibition, the idea of these women being described as "dangerously modern" lingered with me. Women who stepped outside the expectations of their time, who created without permission, and lived slightly ahead of the rules meant to contain them.

It turns out life does this too.
You map it out, colour-code it, set your expectations . . . and then everything slows down or diverts entirely.
The invitation isn't to force the plan back into place, but to notice what becomes possible when you stop rushing toward what was supposed to happen.

Sometimes the best part of the journey is what's left once the plan dissolves . . . and sometimes, the most memorable moments live in the space between the plan and the unexpected