Questions I get asked a lot
Why do I have to apply first?
Because I need to know we're a good fit before either of us commits to anything, and so do you.
I work with a small number of people at any one time, and the work is deep. The application tells me whether I'm genuinely the right person to help you, before either of us spends anything on finding out. It's mostly simple choices, built to be manageable on a difficult day, and there's only one question that asks you to write.
I read every application personally, and I reply to every one — whether that's "let's talk" or a no. Either way you'll hear from me.
What happens on the consultation call?
We talk — properly. You tell me where you are: how long you've been ill, what your days look like, what you've tried and what it cost you to try it. I'll ask you some questions and you can ask me anything you like. By the end we'll both have a good idea whether it's the right fit, and I'll tell you what I think either way.
It isn't a sales call, and I won't ask you to decide anything on the day. If it's a fit, I'll explain how we'd start, including the investment, and you take whatever time you need.
Is this like graded exercise therapy?
No, and the difference really matters, so let me explain.
Graded exercise therapy prescribes increases on a schedule, regardless of what your body says about it. A lot of my clients have been harmed by exactly that, so I understand if the word "graded" puts you on edge.
In my work, expansion only ever happens on a foundation of nervous-system safety. We build that foundation first — that's what the Stabilise phase is for. Then we start absurdly small, small enough that your body can bank the experience as proof rather than threat. If you have a setback, we pause. Nothing gets pushed through. Your body sets the pace, not a schedule.
Do you think this is all in my mind?
No. Your illness is physiological, and I will never suggest otherwise.
What I actually think is the opposite of that. Your nervous system is a physical system, and right now it isn't operating properly. It's not broken — it's overworked. A system that has spent years on high alert eventually enforces its limits through fatigue, pain and shutdown. Those symptoms are real, physical, and measurable in your life every day.
Tests find real things — inflammation, dysfunction, damage. What standard testing can't see is a nervous system stuck in a state it can't get out of on its own. That isn't in your mind, it's in your body, and it can change.
I've tried everything. Why would this be different?
Nearly every client I've worked with has said this to me, and I don't blame them. Most of what you've tried was probably a protocol — something built before you arrived, that you were asked to fit yourself into. When it didn't work, you were left to conclude the problem was you.
The problem was never you.
This work is built the other way round. The framework is fixed — The Four Phases, tested across hundreds of hours of client work — but the sequence, pace and emphasis are built around your history, your patterns, your body. And it works at the level most approaches never reach: not managing symptoms, but changing what your nervous system believes about safety. That's usually the layer nothing else touched.
Why isn't there a fixed programme?
Because a fixed programme asks you to fit the plan, and you've done enough of that.
But don't mistake bespoke for improvised. The architecture of this work never changes: The Four Phases, the same operating principles in every session, a documented playbook for the situations recovery reliably produces, and a library of forty named interventions refined over hundreds of sessions. When something happens in your week — a crash after progress, a flare of fear as you improve — I know exactly what it is and what to reach for, because I've worked it dozens of times.
What's bespoke is the sequencing: which tool, when, how deep, at what pace. That follows you. It's a system that adapts to you, and that takes more rigour, not less.
I'm too ill for another programme.
I hear this a lot. The simple answer is that this work was built for people who have very little to spend.
You don't prepare for it, you don't study for it, and there's no workbook to fall behind on. You show up to one conversation a week — from bed if that's where you are, by phone if a screen is too much. Whatever you carry out of a session is one small thing, sized so your worst day can still manage it. The biggest difference is between zero and one, and one is always within reach.
If you're in a severe crash right now, say so on the application — where you're starting from shapes how we start, not whether we can.
How long until I see results?
I won't give you a timeline. Nobody can, and you've probably been let down by people who did.
What I can tell you is how progress tends to show up. The work comes first and the results follow later, sometimes a good while later. Early on, things shift that don't look like recovery — steadier days, a calmer response to a bad night, the first stretch where your body isn't bracing. The visible moments come later, and they come as life, not numbers: a walk that used to be impossible, an evening out that didn't cost you three days.
One thing worth remembering, though. It doesn't take as long to rebuild as it took to break.
Is twelve weeks enough?
Twelve weeks is enough to change the trajectory. It's honest to say it's rarely the whole journey.
The Foundation Programme reliably does three things: it steadies the ground under you, it builds your first real evidence that your body can change, and it opens the deeper work — the patterns and the identity questions — that makes recovery last. Some people travel remarkably far in twelve weeks. For most, it's the strong beginning of a longer arc, and many choose to continue because that's where the deepest work gets its full time.
I'd rather tell you that now than sell you a miracle with a deadline. Recovery takes as long as it takes. What twelve weeks buys you is no longer travelling alone, and no longer travelling blind.
What if I crash during the programme?
Then we work with it. A crash isn't a failure, it's information, and quite often it means we've hit on something real.
Crashes during recovery are so predictable that they have their own entry in my playbook, especially the one that arrives right after visible progress. When it happens, we don't push through it and we don't panic over it. We trace what led to it, we take what it's telling us, and the plan flexes around your body — never the other way round.
And you won't be waiting a week alone in it. Between sessions, you can message me. In a genuinely hard stretch, the support steps up to meet it. Getting better looks messy. The container is built for that.
Do I have to relive my past?
No. Nothing in this work is sprung on you, and nothing is forced.
The deeper work — the patterns you learned early, the person you had to become — matters, because for most people that's where lasting recovery lives. But we only ever go there with your explicit agreement, at your pace, and "not yet" is always a full answer. I don't excavate, I don't hunt for trauma, and I never ask for details beyond what you choose to bring.
And where something needs more than coaching should offer, I say so, and I have trusted specialists to refer to — working alongside me, not instead of me. Depth in this work is earned by trust, never demanded by a schedule.
What happens between sessions?
Two things, and neither of them is homework.
First, you'll usually carry one small thing out of each session. One, not ten. It might be five minutes of something, or a single question to notice during the week. It's an invitation, not an assignment. I don't grade it and I won't chase you, and if it doesn't happen, that tells us something more useful than compliance would have.
Second, the door stays open. If something lands hard mid-week — a crash, a conversation, a fear that won't settle — you message me, and I answer. That isn't a marketing line. My clients use it. The work doesn't only happen inside the hour.
Is it actually you I'll be working with?
Yes. Every session, from the consultation call to the last goodbye, is with me. There's no team behind me and nobody I hand you over to once you've signed up.
That's deliberate. It's how the work works. Recovery runs on threads that span weeks: something you say in week three matters in week eleven, and I'm the one carrying it. Continuity of person is how those threads get held; it's a documented part of the method, not a nice-to-have. It's also why I keep my client numbers small. One person holds your whole story, and that's the point.
Are you qualified?
Yes. I'm a Functional Medicine Certified Health Coach (FMCHC), trained with the Functional Medicine Coaching Academy — backed by the Institute for Functional Medicine and widely regarded as the most rigorous standard in health coaching — and registered with the UKIHCA.
Worth knowing: "health coach" isn't a protected title the way "doctor" is, so it always pays to check who you're dealing with. And alongside the training sits the other qualification — I've made this recovery myself, and I've now guided it across hundreds of hours of one-to-one client work.
Are you anti-doctor?
Not remotely. Doctors have found real things in my clients — real damage, real dysfunction — and good medical care matters. Keep your doctors.
The medical system is built to find and treat specific problems, and it does that well. What it isn't built to see is a nervous system that has stopped operating properly — there's no scan for it, and no prescription pad answer to it. That's the layer I work at, and it sits alongside your medical care, not against it.
My frame with every practitioner in a client's life is the same: we're adding to the team, not replacing anyone. Where it helps, I'll even help you prepare for appointments so you're properly heard.
Are you fully recovered?
My illness is no longer life-limiting — that's the measure I care about, and mine is the fullest life I've ever had, including before I got ill. I still have some nerve damage around my eye and scalp, and it improves all the time. I don't chase the word "cured"; it's a label, and labels aren't the point. Quality of life is. Mine has never been higher.
You recovered — but I'm not you.
You're right, you're not, and you don't need to be.
Physically, I'm very average. I haven't won any genetic lottery, and I was at absolute zero when I started: I could barely cross my own flat. What got me out wasn't anything special about my body. It was consistency, structure, and eventually understanding what my recovery actually required. Those are exactly the things coaching exists to supply — you bring the decision, I bring the map.
Do you give advice on supplements and diet?
Yes, and it's a proper part of the work. I have a functional medicine background and I'll give you clear direction on supplements, food, sleep and the physical side of recovery, tailored to you rather than lifted from a list.
What I won't do is stop there. Supplements and diet are one pillar, not the whole building, and if that's the only thing you're after there are cheaper ways to get it. The people who recover with me use the physical work as the foundation and then do the deeper work on top of it.
Do I need a diagnosis to apply?
No. A lot of my clients waited years for a diagnosis, and some never got one that satisfied them. What matters is what's happening in your life, not what's written on a letter. The application asks where you are with diagnosis simply so I understand your situation.
I'm bed-bound. Can you still work with me?
Yes. I work with people at every severity, including from bed. Sessions can be by phone if a screen is too much, we can go shorter if an hour is too long, and everything we do between sessions is sized to your worst day, not your best one. Where you're starting from shapes how we start, not whether we can.
Is this therapy?
No. Coaching and therapy are different things, and I'm careful about the line. Therapy works with the past to heal it. Coaching works with the present to change it, and some of that involves understanding where your patterns came from. If something comes up that needs more than coaching should offer, I'll say so, and I have trusted specialists to refer to who work alongside me rather than instead of me.
Where are you based, and does it matter where I am?
I'm based in Copenhagen and I work online, mostly with people in the UK and Ireland, and across Europe. All you need is a phone or a laptop and a quiet hour. I've worked with people on the other side of the world and it makes no difference to the work.
What about my medication?
That's between you and your doctor, and I'll never tell you to change it. What I will do is help you understand what your body is telling you and, if it's useful, help you prepare for appointments so you're properly heard. I add to your medical care, I don't replace it.
Why don't you publish prices?
Because we both need to know it's a good fit first.
A price on a website invites you to compare this with things it isn't: courses, apps, protocols. What I offer is a small number of high-touch, one-to-one working relationships, and whether that's right for you can't be judged from a pricing table. It can be judged in one honest conversation.
On the consultation call, once we both know it's a fit, I'll tell you what the investment is and answer anything you want to ask about it, including how payment works. No pressure and no games. If it's not a fit, the call will have cost you nothing but an hour, and I'll tell you that too.
Can my partner or parent apply for me?
No, and I'd like to explain why, because it's usually asked out of love.
If you're reading this on behalf of someone you love, you've probably watched them suffer for years and you'd do anything to help. I understand that completely. But this work runs entirely on the client's own decision to do it. When someone else wants it more than the person does, the work has nothing to run on, and I'd be taking your money for something that can't work yet.
So it's simple. When they're ready, they apply themselves. What you can do is show them this site, and then let it be theirs. That first step is small. It also can't be taken for them.
Still have a question? Ask it on the application — there's room — or ask it on the call. That's what they're for.