About Me

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Most young men don’t need another motivational speech. They need someone who has actually been in the dark and found the way out without pretending it was glamorous.

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I work with young men and troubled teens who feel lost, angry, stuck, or quietly convinced that something fundamental has gone wrong with them. My focus is not on fixing labels. It is on helping them find a path that is real, workable, and theirs. ADHD is an area I understand with unusual depth — both from lived experience and from the work I do — but it is not the only thing I address. The deeper work is identity, direction, self-respect, and the long process of becoming a man who no longer has to fight himself every day.

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I was not given a map.

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There was no father. No consistent male presence. No one showing me what strength looked like when it was quiet, or what responsibility looked like when it was unglamorous. School felt like a place designed for someone else. I was excluded, isolated, and eventually sent to a boarding school for “very naughty boys.” When I left, I could barely read or write. That was the moment the real damage revealed itself. I realised I was no more prepared for adult life than I had been at primary school. The realisation did not arrive as drama. It arrived as a quiet, heavy collapse in my mental health, my self-worth, and any clear sense of who I was.

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I entered my twenties at absolute ground zero. No guidance. No wisdom. No safety net. Only a stubborn refusal to keep living the life that was forming around me. There were serious problems with the law. There was heavy drinking, drug use, and dealing. There was a careless violence toward my own body that came from simply not knowing any other way to exist. Through all of it, one sentence kept returning, almost against my will:

“It doesn’t need to be this hard. There has to be a better way of living than this. I just need to work out how.”

That sentence became the only reliable compass I had. I spent years taking my life apart, examining what had failed, and rebuilding something that actually fitted. Not the version other people wanted. Not the polished performance of recovery. A direction that was honest, sustainable, and mine.

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A man’s teenage years and early twenties are decisive. When they go wrong at the beginning, they can become the hardest decades of his life. I walked out of that forest the long, expensive way. I now return to show other young men a clearer route — not because I have all the answers, but because I know what it costs to stay lost, and I know what it takes to leave.

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I do not coach from theory or textbooks. I coach from having lived the confusion, the shame, the isolation, the self-destruction, and the slow, deliberate climb that followed. I know what it feels like to have no map and still refuse to remain lost. That is the ground I work from.

If you are a parent who senses your son is drifting further than he can admit, or if you are a young man who is exhausted by the same internal battles and ready for something more honest — this is the work.

We will look clearly at what is actually happening. We will remove the noise. And we will build a direction that belongs to him.

That is the only work that matters.