My story began in 2011, when I started experiencing uncomfortable symptoms around my abdomen, and a scan revealed a large fibroid. After a short consultation, I was put on a waiting list for surgery.

At first, I didn’t question it; I trusted the people who I thought knew best. But on the day of the operation, sitting in the hospital waiting room, I realised I was about to be cut open without fully understanding why. Feeling uneasy, I made a choice that would change everything: I walked away.

That is not to say I reject medical intervention; instead, it was about recognising I hadn’t been part of the decision-making about my own body. I wanted to understand my health, not just hand it over. It was the first step towards reclaiming responsibility for my wellbeing.

Since that day, I’ve trained and worked as a clinical aromatherapist, integrative women’s health coach, and qigong teacher. I’ve studied herbalism, yoga, massage therapy, and emotional anatomy — and I’m still learning (the Gemini in me will be an eternal student).

But over time, my work has grown far beyond “wellness” as it’s usually sold to us.

Wellness, in its commercial form, often tells us that if we just eat the right food, follow the right routine, or buy the right product, we’ll be okay, all without acknowledging the bigger picture.

The truth is our wellbeing doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It’s shaped by the health of our communities, the state of our environment, and the systems we live under. Those systems aren’t neutral — they decide who has access to safety, rest, nourishment, and opportunity, and who is denied them. They determine who gets to thrive, and who is left behind.

This understanding has become central to my work. I see movement, embodiment, and collective care not just as personal practices, but as ways of reclaiming our energy and agency in the face of systems that benefit from our exhaustion and disconnection.

When we slow down enough to listen to our bodies, we build the capacity to make different choices — for ourselves and for the world around us.

When we feel more grounded and resilient, we’re harder to divide, overwhelm, or silence.

And when we connect our personal healing to the collective, we can create change that lasts.