In the Summer of 2025, I was made redundant from a job I genuinely loved and I didn't see it coming. In the first week I told everyone I was taking some time to decompress and enjoy the sunshine (which was true) but underneath that, a deeper yearning was beginning.

It’s been the kind of honest reckoning that tends to arrive when the structure you've been living inside suddenly disappears.

The questions came quickly: What do I actually want to do next? Not what makes sense, not what looks good on paper...  what do I actually want to dedicate my life to? I'd spent a decade helping other people answer versions of that question, and yet here I was sitting with it myself and at an impasse.

Several people who'd worked with me suggested I start my own recruitment business, and I could understand why as on paper, it was the obvious move. I had the experience, the network, the results... but something didn't quite fit, because the part of my work I'd always found most meaningful wasn't the process.

It was the people.

The candidates I'd spent hours understanding, preparing for interviews and championing. The hiring managers I'd challenged to think differently about who they were looking for and why. The colleagues I'd watched grow in confidence once they finally felt genuinely included. The rooms of C-Suite I’d led on change management projects. That was the part I wanted more of — not less.

So instead of building another agency, I built Clear Course.

The name itself matters to me, and it took me a while of back and forth to settle on. A clear course isn't a straight line, it's not a five-step plan or a colour-coded roadmap to someone else's idea of success. It's the feeling of knowing, with confidence, where you're headed, why you're headed there and knowing you have the tools to navigate the waters. 

It's what happens when you stop drifting and start making deliberate choices: about your work, your life, and what you're actually willing to compromise on and what you're not.

Which brings me to Living Loyal — the name I gave to my core coaching programme, and the idea at the heart of everything I do. It came from a simple but persistent question I kept returning to during those weeks after my redundancy: am I living a life that's loyal to who I actually am, or have I just been loyal to a version of myself that other people find easier to understand?

I'm not the only person who's asked themselves that, because the people who find their way to Clear Course are almost always asking some version of it, too.

My values haven't changed, I believe that doing things with rigour and doing things with genuine care are not in tension with each other. I believe that the most inclusive environments are also the highest-performing ones — and a decade of results is testament to that.

I believe that most people don't lack ambition or ability: they lack self-permission. Permission to want something different from what they've already built, permission to say out loud that the plan they committed to at 27 might not be the right one at 37, permission to take their own quiet dissatisfaction seriously rather than filing it under "everyone feels like this sometimes."

That's what I'm here for.  Not to tell you what to do, but to ask the questions that make it harder to keep avoiding the honest answer, and to sit with you in the work of figuring out what that answer means.

If that sounds like the conversation you've been putting off, then you're in the right place.