“Healing begins in relationship.”
It is a simple belief, yet it has quietly shaped every chapter of my life.
Whether we meet together in my counselling room in Hastings or outdoors alongside my horses, my hope is always the same—to create a space where you feel safe enough to be yourself, explore your experiences without judgement, and rediscover your own capacity for healing.
People often ask me whether I am a counsellor who works with horses or someone who uses horses in therapy.
The truth is, neither description feels quite right.
At the heart of everything I do is trauma-informed counselling.
My practice is grounded in compassion, curiosity, and the understanding that healing happens through safe, authentic relationships. For some people, that journey unfolds through conversation in the counselling room. For others, the quiet presence of horses and nature offers another pathway into awareness, connection, and growth.
There is no single way to heal.
Together, we discover the path that feels right for you.
Where the Story Began
Looking back now, I don’t think there was one defining moment that led me to this work.
Instead, it feels as though every chapter of my life quietly prepared me for it.
I grew up on 500 acres in the Manawatū, Aotearoa New Zealand, where my family discovered me at just three years old perched on the back of an untrained horse in a neighbouring paddock. Somehow, even then, I felt completely at home.
At seven, I was given my first pony, Goldie, an older Palomino gelding who patiently introduced me to the quiet language of trust. Through Pony Club, gymkhanas, horse shows, and countless afternoons spent simply being with horses, I learned lessons that would quietly shape the rest of my life.
Patience.
Respect.
Boundaries.
Presence.
Relationship.
Long before I understood trauma, attachment, or counselling, the horses were already teaching me about all of them.
The Journey Away
At eighteen, life took me in a very different direction.
I studied Graphic Design before beginning a career in television with TV3 and TV4 in New Zealand. Not long afterwards, I moved to Vancouver, Canada, expecting only a new adventure.
Instead, Canada became home for the next twenty-three years.
Professionally, I loved the creativity and fast pace of the television industry.
Personally, my greatest role became raising my daughter as a single mum from the time she was just one year old.
Like many parents, I found myself navigating challenges I had never expected. As a neurodivergent child, the traditional education system wasn’t the right fit for her. Together, we searched for places where she could simply be accepted for who she was, rather than constantly trying to fit into a system that wasn’t designed for her.
At the time, I had no idea that our search would quietly change the direction of both our lives.
The Lightbulb Moment
Our journey led us to The Children’s Foundation in Vancouver, a wonderful one-year programme supporting children with diverse learning needs. Some of the children had opportunities to spend time with horses, and I became curious about the calm, confidence, and connection these experiences seemed to foster.
Not long afterwards, I began volunteering at a small private horse facility.
It wasn’t a therapy programme.
I simply wanted horses back in my life.
I often brought my daughter with me.
While I mucked out paddocks or prepared feed, she would happily curl up in the hay while the horses quietly ate nearby.
Those afternoons remain some of my most treasured memories.
There was no pressure.
No expectations.
No labels.
No judgement.
She simply existed alongside the horses.
Over time, I watched the overwhelm she so often carried begin to soften. She became calmer, more confident, and more connected—not because anyone was trying to fix her, but because she had found a place where she felt safe.
Watching that unfold became my own lightbulb moment.
For the first time, I found myself asking a different question.
Not “What do horses do?”
But “Why do people feel so different around them?”
That single question has guided my professional life ever since.
Following Curiosity
Curiosity has always been one of my greatest teachers.
It first led me to complete a Diploma of Professional Life Coaching because I wanted to better understand how people create meaningful change.
During this time, I volunteered for seven years with Southlands Therapeutic Riding Society, where I completed my Canadian Therapeutic Riding Instructor certification through CanTRA. I was also fortunate to work with the Urban Horse Project, Vancouver’s first evidence-informed equine programme supporting Indigenous and at-risk youth. Watching young people discover confidence, trust, and connection through their relationships with horses reinforced something I had first witnessed with my own daughter years earlier.
As I began coaching, however, I realised that many people weren’t simply looking for motivation or direction.
They were carrying trauma.
Grief.
Anxiety.
Loss.
Experiences that had shaped the way they experienced themselves, others, and the world around them.
I realised I wanted to understand those experiences more deeply.
That led me to complete my Diploma of Professional Counselling through Vancouver College of Counsellor Training.
Alongside my studies, I volunteered as a crisis responder with Kids Help Phone and provided affordable counselling through Moving Forward Family Services. Those experiences deepened my understanding that healing doesn’t happen because someone has all the answers.
It happens because people experience relationships where they feel safe enough to explore, reconnect, and grow.
Learning to Listen
My learning has continued throughout my career.
I have completed the 3 year training in Somatic Experiencing® (SE), a body-oriented approach to help resolve trauma and other stress responses, EQUUSOMA® (Horse–Human Trauma Recovery), Natural Lifemanship®, Equine-Assisted Learning, Equine-Facilitated Wellness, attachment theory, interpersonal neurobiology, mindfulness, and trauma-informed practice.
Each has added another layer to my understanding.
Yet, perhaps my greatest teachers have remained the horses themselves.
They have taught me that healing cannot be rushed.
That trust is earned.
That regulation begins with safety.
That presence is often more powerful than words.
Most importantly, they have reminded me that neither horses nor people need to be fixed.
They need to be understood.
Coming Home Again
In 2023, after twenty-three wonderful years in Canada, my daughter and I made the decision to return home to Aotearoa New Zealand. She was now a young woman, and together we felt it was time to be closer to our family.
Coming home wasn’t about leaving one life behind.
It was about bringing everything I had learned back to the place where my own story began.
Today, I work as an ACC Integrated Services for Sensitive Claims (ISSC) counsellor, supporting adolescents and adults experiencing trauma, PTSD, anxiety, grief, relationship challenges, and the impacts of sexual abuse and sexual assault.
Clients can choose to meet with me in my counselling room or, where appropriate, outdoors alongside my horses.
Some people never meet the horses.
Others discover that working in nature allows them to explore experiences that are difficult to put into words.
Both pathways are counselling.
Both are grounded in the same philosophy.
Continuing to Learn
One of the things I value most is remaining a lifelong learner.
Returning home has also given me the opportunity to reconnect more deeply with the culture and language of Aotearoa. I have been learning Te Reo Māori, completing Levels 1 and 2 before continuing into Levels 3 and 4. While I still have much to learn, the journey has deepened my appreciation of Te Ao Māori and values such as whanaungatanga (relationships), manaakitanga (care and generosity), and aroha (compassion).
These values resonate deeply with the way I practise counselling and continue to remind me that meaningful healing begins with respect, relationship, and genuine human connection.
Learning Te Reo Māori has become another expression of my commitment to cultural responsiveness, humility, and lifelong learning.
If Our Paths Cross…
People often come to counselling believing something about them needs to be fixed.
I don’t believe that.
I believe people come because, somewhere along life’s journey, they have lost connection—with themselves, with others, with hope, or with a sense of safety.
My role isn’t to fix people.
It is to walk alongside them as they find their way home again.
Whether we meet in the counselling room or beside my horses, my hope is that you experience a place where you feel heard.
Where you feel accepted.
Where your story is honoured.
Where curiosity replaces judgement.
Where healing happens at a pace that respects your nervous system rather than overwhelms it.
Looking back now, I don’t believe I chose this career.
I think every horse I loved as a child, every challenge I faced, every lesson I learned, every client who trusted me with their story, and every opportunity to keep learning quietly led me here.
The horses have been teaching me since I was three years old.
Counselling gave me the language to understand why those lessons matter.
Today, it is a privilege to share both with the people who entrust me with their stories.
