Active Minds Coaching

Active Minds Coaching AuDHD Coach for Gifted & Creative Women
High Ability. High Intensity. High-Functioning Burnout.

Executive Dysfunction | RSD | Nervous System Repair
Clinical Hypnotherapist
“See yourself clearly and joy returns.”
Work with me👇

For a long time I lived in “should.”Should keep everything together.Should cope.Should work harder.Shouldn’t complain.Sc...
24/02/2026

For a long time I lived in “should.”

Should keep everything together.
Should cope.
Should work harder.
Shouldn’t complain.

School runs.
Work.
Dinner.
Holding everything together.

Day after day.

Until one day my body said enough.

Burnout forced me to stop and ask a different question.

Not what should I be doing?

But what do I actually need?

Today I drew something for the first time in my life.

Not because I suddenly became artistic.

But because I finally made space for something my mind and body needed.

Sometimes reconnecting with yourself doesn’t start with big changes.

Sometimes it starts with one small act.

One quiet moment.

One thing that is just for you.

So I’m curious…

What’s one thing you need more of right now?

Sleep?
Quiet?
Creativity?
Nature?
Time alone?

I’ve been thinking about something.Some girls are born expressive.You can see it straight away.They don’t just take part...
20/02/2026

I’ve been thinking about something.

Some girls are born expressive.
You can see it straight away.

They don’t just take part in art or dance or music; they light up in it.

It’s not about being the best.
It’s about feeling at home in their own body.

And then somewhere along the way, it changes.

The pressure creeps in.
Expectations get louder.
Adults push because they see “potential.”
Standards get higher.
Mistakes feel bigger.

And if something goes wrong; injury, burnout, anxiety, criticism the support doesn’t always match the intensity.

What I notice now is how many brilliant women once had something that made them feel alive and quietly walked away from it.

Not because they stopped loving it.
But because it stopped feeling safe.

Gifted, creative girls are often capable beyond their years. But capable doesn’t mean invincible.

When your identity gets tangled up with performance, it only takes one rupture for your nervous system to decide:

“We’re not doing this again.”

And then years later you’re a grown woman saying,

“I used to love that.”
“I don’t know what happened.”
“I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

Nothing happened to your talent.

You protected yourself.

Reclaiming creativity as an adult isn’t about ambition. It’s about repair.

Making it safe.
Slowing it down.
Letting it be yours again not something to prove.

And you’re allowed to go back.
Gently.


I hadn’t realised for a long time just how unsafe I had felt in certain spaces.Today I was sitting in a coffee shop, fin...
18/02/2026

I hadn’t realised for a long time just how unsafe I had felt in certain spaces.

Today I was sitting in a coffee shop, finishing some work. I chose my table deliberately — to eat quietly, to minimise interaction, to have a moment alone.

When I declined to share it with two men, the response made me feel as though I was the problem.

It struck me how quickly boundaries can be misread.

There was no curiosity about why I might want space.
No awareness that solitude can be intentional.
No recognition that safety looks different for different people.

For some, safety is connection.
For others, it’s autonomy.
For many neurodivergent people, it’s reducing sensory and social demand.

We talk a lot about psychological safety in organisations.

But safety isn’t one-size-fits-all.

Sometimes what looks like distance is regulation.
What looks like aloofness is overwhelm prevention.
What looks like “difficult” is simply a boundary.

If we want truly inclusive environments, we have to recognise that not everyone experiences the world in the same way — and not everyone feels safe in the same conditions.






WomenWithADHD

Waves hold immense power.On the surface they look calm. Rhythmic. Beautiful.  But underneath there is force. Momentum. D...
18/02/2026

Waves hold immense power.

On the surface they look calm. Rhythmic. Beautiful. But underneath there is force. Momentum. Depth. Energy that has travelled miles before reaching the shore.

I’ve been thinking about how many people are like that.

I grew up believing I was the problem.

I was born in the 70s. ADHD in girls wasn’t recognised. I pushed through. I coped. I kept going.

Today we call that masking.

My brother was labelled hyperactive. In the 80s, doctors recommended brain surgery for what we now understand to be ADHD.

That’s how misunderstood this was.

We’ve come a long way.

Yet when I sit with late-diagnosed and self-identifying AuDHD adults, the story feels painfully familiar.

They blame themselves.

These aren’t broken people.

They grew up inside systems that didn’t understand their nervous systems.

Schools that worked for some, not all.
Workplaces built around output, not regulation.
Healthcare treating symptoms without always asking what was underneath.

And here’s what keeps circling in my mind:

What happens when those undiagnosed children grow old?

How many elderly people in residential care are ADHD or autistic — and no one knows?

Seventy years of masking.
Now in bright, noisy environments with little control.
Described as “agitated.” “Challenging.”

What if they’re overwhelmed?

Layer in race, class, gender and trauma, and the gaps widen.

If you work inside a system, this isn’t an attack.
It’s an invitation.

Not everyone experiences the world the way you do.

Are we hesitant to have these conversations because it feels like stepping outside the system?
Because it takes longer?
Because it challenges protocol?
Because it asks us to see the person, not just the presentation?

What if human conversation isn’t outside the system?
What if it’s the part that makes it humane?

It takes courage to pause.
To ask what might be underneath.
To notice whether we’re responding to the crash instead of understanding the current.

We’ve moved forward.

But there are still people quietly carrying the cost.





I’m not here to tell you how to live.I don’t know what works for you. We’re all wired differently.But I do know burnout....
13/02/2026

I’m not here to tell you how to live.

I don’t know what works for you. We’re all wired differently.

But I do know burnout.

I’m an AuDHD coach, and I work with gifted, capable women who look like they’re coping… but feel like they’ve lost themselves somewhere along the way.

They’re the strong ones.
The reliable ones.
The ones who get things done.

And they’re tired.

Not lazy tired.
Bone-deep, nervous-system tired.

When you’re holding together work, family, expectations, emotions — and your capacity is always full — you don’t always realise you’ve disappeared a bit.

You just keep going.

You use your strengths to keep everything steady.

Your empathy.
Your intelligence.
Your resilience.
Your ability to adapt.

But you don’t always use those strengths for yourself.

You don’t ask what suits you.
What drains you.
What feels like you.

And that’s usually where burnout starts.

Not because you’re weak.

Because you’ve been overextending your gifts for too long.

Self-awareness isn’t about fixing yourself.

It’s about remembering yourself.

And for a lot of the women I work with, that’s the turning point.




I attended a brilliantly informative Trauma and Autism webinar.  It that confirmed something I’ve been living for years....
20/01/2026

I attended a brilliantly informative Trauma and Autism webinar. It that confirmed something I’ve been living for years.

My PTSD came from supporting an undiagnosed neurodivergent young person through extreme distress, without the right understanding or support.

Three years ago, I knew very little about autism or ADHD. I honestly thought I was just very emotional. I had coped my whole life and never questioned it.

Then a period of intense stress changed everything.

I stayed on high alert.
I kept going because that felt like the only option. Until I couldn’t.

The things I could normally do with my eyes closed became impossible:
Write an email.
Sleep.
Cook.
Speak.

But the hardest part wasn’t what I couldn’t do.

It was how I felt:
Shame.
Guilt.
Fear.
Confusion.
Loneliness.

My nervous system was turning in on itself and I didn’t know why. I had to learn because nobody was giving me the any answers.

I started seeing behaviour, distress, and trauma through a completely different lens.

I received my own ADHD diagnosis and was placed on the autism pathway. And today’s learning confirmed what I had already suspected and what is still so often missed.

I want to say this clearly: I’m proud of myself for showing up. It took courage to face a big part of my life, and that matters.

This journey now shapes the work I do supporting late-diagnosed clients as they find their way back to safety, clarity, and joy. ✨I’m deeply grateful to the researchers doing such thoughtful, compassionate work in the neurodivergent space.
Your work gives me language, understanding, and a way forward.



Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA) is real.When parents are misunderstood, dismissed, or unheard, the impact is deeply ...
19/01/2026

Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA) is real.

When parents are misunderstood, dismissed, or unheard, the impact is deeply damaging not only for them, but for the children they are trying to support.

Too often, parents are told they are too soft, too flexible, or that the difficulty must lie in their parenting style. This framing is unhelpful and, in many cases, harmful. It ignores the complexity of neurodivergent distress and places responsibility in the wrong place.

Many parents are bravely navigating life with neurodivergent children with very limited understanding, guidance, or systemic support. They are holding enormous emotional and practical loads, often in isolation, and many are burning out as a result.

Parents do not need judgement.
They need to be listened to.
They need validation, support, and informed guidance.

There is currently very little provision designed to keep parents regulated, resourced, and strong enough to continue supporting their children safely and sustainably. That gap matters and it has consequences for the whole family system.

We can do better.

Continued, well-funded research into PDA and neurodivergent trauma is essential. Families need clearer frameworks, stronger evidence, and pathways that reflect lived reality rather than outdated assumptions.

Ongoing research in this space really matters to families.



I’m doing it again.Training. Learning. Sitting quietly with the imposter voice shouting why are you here?Today I was in ...
17/01/2026

I’m doing it again.
Training. Learning. Sitting quietly with the imposter voice shouting why are you here?

Today I was in training with ADHD Works, becoming a neuroaffirmative supervisor — and I felt completely terrified.

Surrounded by so much skill, experience and talent, the doubt was loud.
And yet… once again, I was blown away.

Not just by the learning, but by how safe the space felt.

This is what this organisation does best.
It creates genuine psychological safety.
Human first. Professional second.

In full honesty I changed my clothes three times before settling on a silk shirt because it felt “acceptable”.
What I really wanted was my dungarees.
I realised I was masking before the session had even started.

That noticing mattered.

Before the meeting I’d rushed the school run, walked the dog, sat down panicked…
No tea.
Everyone introducing themselves.
All I could think was: I want my tea. Why am I here?

And then it landed.

Sometimes the shift isn’t the work.
It’s the view.

Today reminded me why psychologically safe spaces matter so much.
This is where real learning and real growth actually happens.





16/01/2026

In response to Jo Platt address to Parliament.

Through my work, I regularly see the long-term impact of late diagnosis and of living a lifetime on the spectrum without knowing it.

Women and marginalised groups are particularly affected. I was late diagnosed myself at 49 and placed on the autism pathway, so this is both professional insight and lived experience.

In 2013, with the publication of DSM-5, it was formally recognised that autism and ADHD can co-occur and that adults can, and do, have ADHD. And yet our systems have been slow to catch up with what we already know.

What I find myself reflecting on most is this:

Why are so many services still designed for a single neurotype?

Why do families often receive meaningful support only once they reach crisis point?

Why are ADHD and autistic people so over-represented within mental health services and the prison system?

And why is there so little advocacy for older people who enter residential care without anyone recognising that they too may be neurodivergent?

These aren’t questions about individuals they’re questions about system design.

If we want different outcomes, we need a broader and more nuanced understanding of what ADHD actually is, and an acceptance that one-size-fits-all approaches don’t work.

ADHD doesn’t disappear with age and our systems shouldn’t either.





Have you ever felt fine and then your nervous system just says “no”?I went out early for a quiet breakfast.Tiny café. Ca...
04/01/2026

Have you ever felt fine and then your nervous system just says “no”?

I went out early for a quiet breakfast.
Tiny café. Calm. Safe.

Then a running group walked in.
All at once.
Red faces, loud voices, big energy.

I noticed it immediately.
The contrast.

That’s when the anxiety kicked in.
That tight, buzzy feeling.
Like my body didn’t know where to land anymore.

The space just changed.
Suddenly louder. Busier. Too much.

My body reacted before my brain could catch up.
That prickly, overwhelmed feeling.
The urge to disappear.

I wasn’t angry at anyone.
It was the sudden shift.
From settled to overstimulated.

So I left.

The hardest part came afterwards.
The looping.
The shame.

Not because I caused a scene.
But because I didn’t stay and push through.
I’m unlearning that.

If this feels familiar,
you’re not too much.

I’ve never really liked New Year’s Eve.For years it felt heavy.Too loud. Too reflective. Too public.So I hid from it.Thi...
31/12/2025

I’ve never really liked New Year’s Eve.

For years it felt heavy.
Too loud. Too reflective. Too public.
So I hid from it.

This year feels different.
Not because life suddenly became easy,
but because I finally understand myself.

In 2025 I was diagnosed with ADHD and placed on the autism pathway.
I left a corporate career of 20 years and stepped into work that fits who I actually am.

So much of who I thought I was had been shaped by expectations that were never mine.

Therapy mattered.
Being supported by someone neuro-affirming helped me meet myself with compassion rather than correction.

I learned that to support others well, you need support too.
Being coached changed how I show up in my life and in my work.

What I do now is offer space to people as they find their way back to themselves.
Not to fix.
Not to rush.
Just to be alongside them as they untangle beliefs that were never theirs and slowly find joy again.

And my daughters…
they are absolute legends.

They teach me every day through their bravery, conviction, kindness, and compassion.
They remind me what it looks like to live with integrity, even when it’s hard.

I don’t coach from a script or a model.
I coach with presence, care, and honesty.

I never imagined I’d be here.
This work found me.

I’m not hiding from myself anymore.
This life fits me now.
My next year is unwritten.

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West Kirby

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