Most people do not even realise they are caught in the cycle of chasing external validation until they start feeling completely drained by it. It can feel like this constant loop of needing someone to tell you that you are doing well, that you are enough, that you are liked, wanted or approved of. And when you get that approval, it feels good for a while. But then, almost without warning, it fades away. The discomfort creeps back in and the search starts all over again.

If you are someone whose mind feels like it is always switched on, you will probably know exactly how exhausting that can be. It is like your brain has no off switch... Until, one day, you stop. Maybe you choose to rest, maybe you try meditation, or maybe you just hit a point of emotional burnout where your mind finally goes quiet. And instead of peace, instead of the relief you imagined stillness might bring, what shows up is this strange, uncomfortable emptiness.

When we get caught in those spirals of shoulda, woulda, coulda, one thing often gets overlooked. We assume that if we do not like the outcome of the choice we made, then the other option would have turned out better. It feels like the one we did not pick was the golden solution... But the truth is, we cannot actually know that. We are comparing something real, something we lived and experienced, with a version of events that only exists in imagination.

Internalised shame and guilt tend to take root early. As children, we’re learning who we are by absorbing the emotional world around us. We’re also trying to feel safe, accepted, and loved. When those needs aren’t consistently met, whether through neglect, harsh discipline, high expectations, or subtle forms of rejection, we begin to turn on ourselves. Instead of thinking, “Something bad happened to me,” we start to believe, “There must be something bad about me.”

When you’re dealing with a difficult person, it can feel like you’re constantly on the back foot... This is where the “pass the ball” technique can really come in handy. It’s not a clever trick or a psychological mind-game. It’s a simple but powerful way of holding your ground and staying emotionally centred. At its core, it’s about refusing to take on a burden that isn’t yours and instead gently handing it back. It’s a way to stop the cycle of over-explaining, apologising, f

There’s a kind of peace that comes from being true to yourself. Not the sort of polished, perfect version you show the world, but the authentic, messy, complicated version that lives beneath all the roles and masks. That’s really what congruence is. It’s when your inner world and outer world start to match up, and you feel a little more at home in your own skin.

A competitive parent isn’t just someone who pushes their child to achieve. It’s someone who, at some level, feels threatened by their child’s strengths. This can show up in all sorts of ways. It might look like minimising your achievements, taking credit for your ideas, comparing you to themselves, or needing to be the centre of attention at all times, even during your moments.

...manifestation isn’t really about magic at all. It’s about perception. It’s about what your brain chooses to notice. And how, with a bit of awareness and practice, you can train it to see what’s always been there (the opportunities, the options, the people, the paths) instead of just repeating the same patterns on autopilot.

You’ve probably heard it before, someone says (usually with a well-meaning laugh) "Oh I do that too, I must have ADHD," or "Well, everyone is a little bit autistic, aren't they." And whilst on the surface these comments might seem harmless or even inclusive, they often leave neurodivergent people feeling unseen, dismissed, or misunderstood. Because what’s being confused here is a common mistake: mixing up shared behaviours with shared processing systems.

Parental alienation is a painful and complex issue, often cloaked in confusion and intense emotion. For anyone who's been on the receiving end of it, it can feel like waking up in a world that no longer makes sense, where the child you love seems to have turned against you without warning and the bond you once shared has been eroded by something you can’t quite name.

You’ve probably seen or played with a 'Chinese finger trap' at some point, those woven tubes that tighten around your fingers the more you try and struggle to pull away. At first, it feels like you’re stuck. Your instinct is to pull harder, to escape. But that only makes it worse. The real solution? You have to gently push inward, move closer to what’s holding you, in order to loosen its grip... Oddly enough, I have always found it a really powerful metaphor for our mental he

From the earliest moments of life, we start absorbing lessons about who we are allowed to be and what makes us “good” or “bad.”... We learn, almost without realising it, that love, acceptance, and even our basic safety can be conditional... It’s exhausting, isn’t it?... The problem with this way of living is that it takes us away from ourselves. When we’re always chasing someone else’s version of "enough," we lose touch with what it actually feels like to be enough.

When we understand lying as a learned coping strategy, rather than just a behavioural problem, it opens up a whole new way to view ourselves and others - with more compassion, curiosity, and care.

When we talk about survival, most of us think of the basics: food, water, shelter. But what’s often overlooked is that, as human beings, we also have emotional needs that are just as crucial to our development and well-being.

...But what’s often missing from that conversation is a deeper look into how much of the neurodivergent experience - especially the parts that feel painful, chaotic, or distressing - may actually be the result of trauma, not simply neurotype.

Many of us don’t have a healthy relationship with anger because, simply put, we were never taught how to. In fact, for a lot of people, the earliest lessons about anger are all about why it’s not okay to have it...

Internalised prejudice is one of those things that can live inside us for years without us even realising it's there. It's quiet, subtle, and often deeply rooted in the way we were taught to see ourselves.

First, let’s be clear - emotional incest is not about sexual abuse. It is, however, a serious form of emotional boundary violation. It happens when a parent leans on their child in a way that isn’t appropriate for the child’s developmental stage.

There are times in life when simply getting through the day feels like the biggest task. When you wake up already exhausted, when your...

There are few positions more painful, confusing, or emotionally exhausting than being a child stuck between two parents at war. For some...