About Embody

I spent decades experiencing repeated traumas while carrying the expectation that I needed to keep going, even while my world was crumbling around me.

I found ways to cope that worked…until they didn’t. I became reliant on alcohol at the age of 12, suffered from disordered eating, over-training, relentless self-control in every area except the ones that mattered most. My discipline was never in question, yet I felt profoundly out of control.

It felt like I was constantly trying to run away from myself.

Outwardly, I probably looked fine. I was achieving, going to school, working, being ‘healthy’ and ‘dedicated’. But they didn’t see I was jumping from one addiction to another,

Throughout school, employment,  university. Big, more traumas happened, but life didn't stop, and life doesn't stop.

Relapsing felt safer than talking to anyone about it. There was no support system to fall back on, and asking for help often made things worse.

Addiction is widely condemned - clinically, socially, morally - but in my reality, it was the only thing I had. Whether that was food, the secret drinking, or my insane work schedule. It didn’t judge, shame, leave, or have conditions.

I repeatedly reached for help but found that, if offered at all, fell into two camps: cold and clinical, or soft and dismissive. Both caused more trauma, and more fear that things would never get better. Neither gave me what I needed. I've lost count of the amount of times that I've thought “I can't do this anymore” because recovery didn’t  feel possible in those frameworks. A better quality of life seemed impossible.

In spite of all this, my ambition never faltered. I still wanted to succeed, be the best, recover, even if I had to work ten times as hard. I was surrounded by figures of ‘support’ who were rooting against me, telling me to aim lower, and give up. I endured severe PTSD symptoms, more relapses, more trauma, more setbacks. I wish Embody Recovery existed then. When I didn’t know what was going on, and I felt scared, alone and hopeless. And this thought is at the back of my mind during every peice of content I share, every conversation I have, every business decision I make.

I wish I could go back and tell that younger version of me what the next decade of her life would hold for her. How she wouldn’t listen to people who discouraged her. She went to therapy, and worked a full time job alongside school to pay privately. How she got unconditional offers from the top universities, and is graduating from UCL in 2026. How she falls in love with the gym and its incredibly supportive community. How she’s willingly sober. How she starts her own recovery company at 21 and is the kind, supportive voice for many who can’t carry it alone.

Something that once felt like the end of my life, now holds a very special place in my heart.