My journey into this work did not begin with a job title or a qualification. It began at home.

I found myself holding back tears after yet another call from school. In Year 8 of secondary school, my bright, funny daughter, full of potential, suddenly found herself unable to fit the rigid mould of mainstream education.

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She had always been in the top sets. She brought home daily positive notes. She was described as a model student. Then almost overnight, everything changed. The phone calls started. Notes home for her skirt being too short. Earrings worn when not allowed. Detentions for minor, low-level issues that had never been raised before.

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As a parent, I was confused and in disbelief. I could not understand why they were suddenly coming down so hard on her. I wanted to believe there was a misunderstanding. But as the incidents increased, so did her frustration. Her response was to push back. To rebel. To wear the earrings again. To challenge the rules. What began as small corrections quickly escalated into something much bigger.

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Almost overnight, we went from being a typical family to a family living in crisis.

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Instead of support, we were met with disproportionate punishments, daily calls, constant reports, suspensions and eventually a referral to a Pupil Referral Unit. There, she met peers who were struggling themselves. They accepted her. They made her feel understood. For a child who felt rejected by school, that sense of belonging was powerful. However, we did not yet understand just how vulnerable she was, and how unsafe some of those new connections would prove to be.

 

At home, we were expected to “work with school” by doubling down on punishments. As her mum, it was heartbreaking. I watched her self-esteem crumble. I was left without guidance and with a child who slowly gave up on a system that was meant to help her.

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I turned to doctors and various services for answers, but support was inconsistent and fragmented. Mental health services threatened discharge because she would not engage or take her prescribed medication. Social services became involved and our lives were taken over by assessments, meetings and constant uncertainty.

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There were nights of meltdowns, episodes of her absconding and going missing, calls to the police, trips to A&E and long hours waiting for help that often never came. Our relationship became so fractured during this time that I truly believed she might never speak to me again. For around six months, she barely did.

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All of this happened during COVID, when services were already at breaking point and families like mine were left to cope alone. I lived in a constant state of high alert, never knowing what the next hour might bring. It was relentless.

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Things spiralled towards breaking point. I felt more and more helpless. And yet in the middle of that chaos, something shifted. I realised that if I did not understand the system, it would continue to overwhelm us. I began to learn how it works, and where it does not. I learned how to ask the right questions, challenge decisions, push back when needed and advocate effectively. I refused to give up.

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Through a twist of fate, I was able to access a service that changed everything. At that point, I had nothing left to lose. I had tried everything. Nothing had worked. My family had sunk lower than rock bottom. I had to put all my faith and trust into the strategies being taught. Slowly, I began to learn how to regain control.

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It taught me how to parent differently. I moved away from punishment and shouting and began focusing on boundaries, choices, consistency and connection. Alongside this, I completed courses, gathered tools and slowly began to rebuild stability within our family. Most importantly, I stayed present for my daughter even when she rejected my help, when it felt impossible and when I was exhausted and overwhelmed.

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After a lengthy stay in hospital and finally receiving and accepting the right support, my daughter got the help she truly needed. She has since been discharged and now lives an independent and fulfilled life. She has told me this is a milestone she could never have reached without me by her side.

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Her journey taught me the true meaning of unconditional love and the strength that comes from not giving up, even when the path feels unbearable.

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And now this is what I bring to you.

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I do not work with your child. I work with you as parents, because you are the ones who need clarity, tools and a plan. I support you with practical strategies at home, while also helping you navigate the confusing world of schools, services and specialist support. Where appropriate, I signpost to the right professionals and resources. I help you prepare for and navigate difficult meetings, so you are no longer fighting alone.

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Parenting today can feel impossible. And it is not your fault. Social pressures, mental health awareness and the realities of modern life mean the old approaches often no longer work. We have to adapt and find new ways forward.

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My journey, and everything I learned along the way, now form the heart of Crisis to Calm. And now I want to share that knowledge with other like-minded parents who are facing these struggles. I know how it feels to be exhausted, judged, overwhelmed and desperate for answers. I also know it is possible to find a way forward.

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I would be honoured to walk beside you, help you navigate the maze and support you in regaining calm and confidence in your home.

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You do not have to do this alone. 💜