“Fed hamsters. Fish fingers. Played ball. Bye.”

- My first ever journal entry, aged 7.

Not quite the literary wunderkid my grandfather had in mind when he gave me that beautiful leather journal I was using. 

But somewhere deep in me it stirred a passion for writing.

And I grew up surrounded by books.
Mom was an English teacher. Dad read to us during dessert.
Red pen critiques of our homework were standard after dinner fare.

Clear & persuasive writing helped get me through school, university and my early career.

Then I stopped.

As I moved up, I delegated the writing and kept the editing.
My words got sharper, but my joy dulled.

So when the tutors at Henley Business School asked me to write a reflective journal as part of my coaching postgrad, I thought:
“I’m already self-aware, aren’t I? This feels like box-ticking.”

Still, I played along.

Attempt #1:
“Client said this. I said that. The end.”
No reflection. Just transcript.

I felt like I had reverted to my 7 year old self.

Then I started using some reflective frameworks.

I asked:
🌀 What did I notice?
🌀 What surprised me?
🌀 What meaning am making?

🌀 What did I learn about myself?

That’s when things shifted.

I started seeing patterns. Connecting dots.
Learning things about myself that I’d glossed over in the rush of day-to-day life.

Then cancer happened.

I stopped a lot, but I kept writing.

Quietly. Privately.
It helped me make meaning when everything else felt scrambled.

And when I got the all-clear, I returned to LinkedIn; initially to profile my coaching business.

But something unexpected happened.

Sharing stories from my career (failures, pivots, hard-earned lessons), I started to feel… like writing again. Not content. Not marketing. Just personal truth.

Public reflection deepened my growth.

Now, reflective writing is a powerful tools I use.
With my clients, too.

When they feel stuck or on the verge of unlocking an insight, I often invite them to write in between sessions. Reflective writing slows the moment down and helps them notice what they might otherwise skim past.

It’s often in these written reflections (mid-flight, scribbled, unfinished) that real breakthroughs emerge. A pattern revealed. A self-story questioned. A new decision unlocked.

Some of the prompts I give are:

✍️ What emotion surprised you as you wrote this?

✍️ What story are you telling yourself?

✍️ What’s the deeper insight that only showed up once you started writing?

Reflective writing is a leadership tool: clarifying, confidence-building and accelerating growth.

And sometimes, the biggest breakthroughs come not in a boardroom, but on the back of a napkin, scribbled mid-thought.

To everyone who’s been cheering me on, challenging my thinking, or just quietly reading along , you’re part of the reason I keep writing. Thank you.