About Me

Why I Do This Work

Before any of my story, one thing. If you have arrived here unsure whether this is even the right kind of help, this page is a good place to find out, and it asks nothing of you.

I do this work because I know what it is like to feel utterly disconnected from my own body. To hate what I saw in the mirror. To compromise so much in a relationship that I lost myself entirely. To use pain and sex to fill a void that nothing else could touch.

I found my way through to the other side. Not by pushing or forcing, but by finally learning to listen. To surrender. To come home to myself.

I am not going to tell you that your story looks like mine, because it may not. But if any part of what follows sounds familiar, that is reason enough to keep reading. And if none of it does, and you are here for something else entirely, you are still welcome.

Before: The Years of Disconnection

The Silent Child

At age 6, I stopped speaking for 6 months. My parents had separated, and when my mum told me to tell my dad we never wanted to see him again, I did it to please her. I'll never forget the look on his face - I knew I had destroyed him.

I became a very shy, quiet girl, bullied at school for being strange. I learned early that expressing what I wanted hurt people. So I stopped expressing. I stopped wanting.

Discovering Shame

At 13, I started having feelings "down there" that frightened me - powerful but out of control. When my stepdad found a fork I'd been using to explore myself, I felt deep shame for the first time about my sexuality.

In my teens, I developed large breasts and suddenly wasn't invisible anymore. The male attention was the only thing that made me feel wanted.

The Compromising Years

I fell into what looked like the perfect relationship. We graduated university together, got a house, nice cars, a dog. The dream.

But I wasn't happy. I compromised everything. I gave up a job I loved for his career. I gave up the adventurous sex I craved. Our intimacy went from frequent to once a month, then once a year when tipsy on holiday.

I gained weight, reaching size 24. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror. It had been 10 years since I'd worn a bikini. I would take myself to a room alone and cry. After 11 years, the relationship ended. It was a relief.

The BDSM Years: Addiction and Self-Destruction

My 30s were spent determined never to compromise again and never to let anyone break my heart.

I discovered personal development after breaking down at work. It changed everything - I gained confidence, started my own business, lost weight. But underneath, I was living a double life.

At work, I was quiet and plain. In secret, I was drinking heavily and diving deep into the BDSM world.

I would spend hours on casual sex and kinky websites. Then, after drinking enough to numb myself, I'd go out and meet these men. I loved pain - needed it. The drinking deadened me, allowing me to go further than my mind would have let me sober. I'd come back with marks and bruises that reminded me for days.

This became an addiction. The more pain I got, the more I wanted. It filled a hole, but never for long.

I didn't like myself. I didn't like my body. I felt worthless, unlovable. Deep down, I believed nobody could really love me. So I let men do whatever they wanted to me. I overrode my body's consent. I scared myself with how far I would go for sex and connection.

People acted out their dark fantasies and unresolved trauma - and it matched my own. I'd come home feeling dirty, like the worthless "cunt" the men called me.

I thought this was all I deserved.

Let me be clear: there's nothing inherently wrong with BDSM. When practised with genuine consent, communication, and self-awareness, it can be a beautiful exploration of sexuality and power dynamics. My issue wasn't with BDSM itself - it was that I was using it to harm myself, to override my body's wisdom, to fill a void of worthlessness. I wasn't practising consent with myself.

One More Try

In my late 30s, I fell in love again. He was handsome, charismatic, and initially we had an incredible sex life - even broke my best friend's bed!

But the pattern repeated. The sex dried up within 2 years. I pushed for commitment, for marriage. We married. The fairy tale ending.

Except it wasn't. We went from sex nearly every day to once a year. My head told me maybe this was just how "normal" relationships were. But I knew I wanted more.

During: The Awakening

One Email Changed Everything

One day, an email arrived - an advert for a Tantra weekend workshop. I took the plunge.

In one weekend, I came alive. I realised how dead my body had felt. How disconnected I'd been. How much I'd been overriding myself, compromising, pushing down.

That weekend opened a door I'd been looking for my entire life.

The Healing Journey

I dove into Tantra training - 6 years with Shakti Tantra, 3 years with Tara in London. I trained as a seminar leader for 15 years. I studied Clean Language for 6+ years. I completed my certifications as a Sexological Bodyworker (CSB) and Somatic Sex Educator (CSSE).

But more than the training, I began the hard work of healing.

I learned to listen to my body. Really listen. Not override it. Not numb it with drink or pain. Not push through its "no" to get connection.

I learned about real consent - not just saying yes or no to someone else, but honouring my own body's wisdom. Learning what genuine "yes" and "no" feel like in my body.

I learned that the pain I'd been seeking wasn't about pleasure or kink - it was about trying to feel something when I was so disconnected.

After: Living the Work

The Transformation

I'm now 50. I've been separated from my former husband for several years (we're still good friends). I practice Tantra daily - meditation, yoga, conscious living.

I'm in a deeply loving Tantric polyamorous relationship with my partner, who is also a Sexological Bodyworker. He completely accepts me for who I am. We're both committed to supporting each other's healing and growth.

I'm often in tears at the depth of love we share. It challenges me constantly - learning to open my heart, to surrender, to be present, to express my needs.

I've also been diagnosed with early-onset arthritis. After living with chronic pain for over 10 years, I had a hip replacement. I'm grateful for this journey - it forced me to slow down and listen even more deeply to my body.

Why This Matters

Here's what I've learned: If we don't know ourselves and our own desires, we can't connect with the powerful life force that it is to be a woman.

We've been taught to push, force, and cajole to get what we want. This either scares people away, or we get what we want but something's missing.

By learning to listen to our bodies - which have infinite wisdom - we realise we already have the answers to what we really need deep down.

This is why I set up Conscious Sexuality. I want all women to experience this. By listening to our bodies, trusting ourselves, and opening our hearts, we can create the relationships we want - not from pushing, but from surrendering to the beauty and power within us.

My Approach

I hold a safe, loving, non-judgemental space where you can start to move forward, heal, and create the sexual life you want to lead.

I'm bisexual and polyamorous, with extensive experience in BDSM. I work with people across all backgrounds, orientations, relationship configurations, and spiritual paths. I've worked with women from various faith traditions and respect your religious values and boundaries. Your whole self is welcome here.

I have a passion for supporting people who understand that sexuality is not just about pleasure (which is beautiful in itself), but can also be a profoundly deep experience when we're fully connected to our body and heart.

I specialise in working with women who feel sexually disconnected - whether from past trauma, societal conditioning, relationship challenges, life transitions like motherhood, perimenopause and menopause, BDSM patterns that don't serve them, self-worth issues, or physical challenges including medical conditions, chronic illness, or disabilities.

I know these journeys intimately because I've walked them myself.

I understand the beauty and power of kink when practised consciously - with genuine consent, communication, and self-awareness. I also understand the shadow side - when it becomes about self-harm, addiction, or overriding your body's wisdom rather than honouring it.

If you're in the kink community, I get it. I've been there. I can support you in exploring the difference between using BDSM in a conscious way and patterns that don't serve you.

I live in North London and see clients in person in North London, or online worldwide. Most of my work happens through one-to-one sessions, though I also offer groups and workshops.

If You're Ready

If my story resonates with you - if you recognise yourself in the compromising, the disconnection, the addiction to pain, the feeling of worthlessness, the wondering if "normal" relationships are supposed to feel this empty - I'd be honoured to support you.

You don't have to stay stuck. You don't have to keep overriding yourself. You don't have to settle for relationships that look good on the outside but feel lonely inside.

There's another way. I found my own way to it, and I would like to help you find yours.

If you'd like to explore working with me, get in touch to book a free discovery call.