I have started again more times than I can count.

Looking back, my life has been a journey of reinvention, determination, learning and, at times, sheer survival. Each chapter has taken me somewhere different, introduced me to new people, challenged me to learn new skills and forced me to discover strengths I never knew I possessed.

My working life began at just 16. After attending modelling and finishing school, I started my career as a model in London. From there, I moved into office work, and at 19, I married and became a mother to two children.

Six years later, I returned to the workplace, this time as a flight attendant, before moving on to the prestigious Champneys. Life was moving quickly, and I was discovering that I could adapt, learn and take on new challenges.

At 34, I divorced and moved to Switzerland, where I found myself starting again from scratch — no house, no money and no children with me. It was a completely new chapter, and I had to find my feet all over again.

Eventually, I returned to the UK, believing I was about to build a new life. I took on three jobs, went to college to study for a degree and enrolled in courses to learn about computers, computer-based accounting and all the technical skills that were becoming increasingly important.

I worked hard, studied hard and built a career in the corporate world. My work took me travelling throughout Scandinavia and back to Switzerland. I eventually established my own IT business, bought a house and remarried.

Then came another major life change. I moved to France, gave up my own home — something I would later reflect on as a big mistake — and began yet another chapter.

This time, my interests were turning towards the human mind, emotional wellbeing and the ways in which we heal. I began studying psychology and exploring different approaches to personal and emotional development. I studied Reiki for five years, eventually becoming a Reiki Master.

My professional path continued to evolve, and I established my own trauma therapy business.

But there was something I could never have fully appreciated from books, courses or professional training alone.

While I was learning about trauma and emotional healing, I was living inside a traumatic relationship of my own.

For 32 years, I was in a relationship that profoundly affected my life. Like many people who find themselves in painful or confusing relationships, I spent time trying to understand what was happening, why the relationship was the way it was and how I could make sense of the person and circumstances I found myself caught up in.

Perhaps, in some ways, my desire to understand people and relationships was also a desire to understand my own experience.

Many of us do this. We read, we study, we seek answers and we try to find the missing piece that will finally make everything make sense. We may become fascinated by psychology, trauma, attachment, emotional regulation or the dynamics of unhealthy relationships. We want to understand the behaviour, the patterns and, sometimes, how we can make things better.

But understanding another person’s behaviour does not mean we can change it. And knowing the theory of trauma does not make us immune to experiencing it ourselves.

You can be educated, capable, independent, professionally successful and knowledgeable about emotional wellbeing — and still find yourself caught in a relationship that slowly changes how you see yourself and the world around you.

That is an important truth I want people to understand.

There is no simple profile of someone who experiences an abusive or traumatic relationship. It can happen to people from every background, at every level of education and at every stage of life. It does not mean they are weak, unintelligent or incapable. Sometimes, it means they have spent years trying to understand, accommodate, repair or survive something that has become increasingly damaging.

My professional journey and my personal journey were running alongside one another, although I did not fully understand the significance of that at the time.

Today, I can look back and see how every chapter contributed to the person I have become. Modelling taught me about presentation and confidence. Corporate life taught me discipline and adaptability. Running my own business taught me independence and responsibility. My studies opened doors to understanding the human mind, while my personal experiences gave those lessons a depth that no textbook could provide.

I would never suggest that trauma is necessary to become a good therapist, nor that suffering is something we should romanticise. It isn’t. Some experiences take far more from us than they ever give back.

But we can choose what we do with the knowledge we gain.

My experiences have deepened my understanding of the complicated reasons people remain in difficult relationships, the emotional impact of coercive control and the long journey back to feeling safe, confident and like yourself again.

And perhaps that is why my work matters so much to me.

I know what it is like to be the woman searching for answers. I know what it is like to keep learning, keep trying and keep hoping that understanding will somehow change the situation. I also know that there comes a point when understanding is no longer enough. Sometimes, the next step is recognising what is happening, seeking support and choosing yourself.

My story is still unfolding. I have rebuilt my life more than once, and I have learned that starting again is not always a sign that we have failed. Sometimes, it is the beginning of a life we could not previously imagine.

The rest, as they say, is history.

But it is also a reminder that our past does not have to define our future, and that it is never too late to learn, grow, change direction or begin again.

Sometimes, the person we spend years trying to understand is the very person who teaches us that we must never lose sight of ourselves.

And sometimes, after a lifetime of starting over, we finally get to build a life that feels like our own.