In 2019, I spiralled and had to call a crisis helpline.

I had a situationship with someone who activated my anxious attachment intensely. I felt deeply ashamed of how I’d behaved when I was anxious. I was also in a job I hated at a bank, stuck on a work visa. At home, I’d rot in bed, scrolling my phone, crying, and overthinking every decision I’d made.

And I’d had enough. I did what I never thought I would be able to do: shift my dating patterns. I made so many unimaginable changes that year that eventually led me to my dream life now.

If you’ve been stuck for years, you might be thinking, “I know what’s wrong. Why am I still doing this? What else do I need to understand?”

Repeating a pattern doesn’t mean it’ll be that way forever, or that you’re hopeless.

I’m going to walk you through the FIVE STEPS that helped me get unstuck and change my life in less than six months, starting with something you can do this week. Take your time to go through this post - there are many exercises you can do and apply to your life.

Here’s what I’ll cover:

But first, I’ll tell you my story, so you know where I started. If you’d rather go straight to the steps, skip to section 1.

You can get your free workbook to do it alongside this post.

I moved to the UK at seventeen with big dreams. I was a creative kid who wanted a creative career and an expansive life abroad. Years later, I found myself living paycheck to paycheck, renting a tiny basement room in a shared flat. Every day, I went to an Excel job at a bank that left me feeling like a shell of myself. I was invisible as a minority woman. My work visa made changing jobs almost impossible.

I felt deeply disappointed in myself. I wished I’d gone to a better university, got into a more prestigious company, or had at least a boyfriend by then. But I felt like I had nothing, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do next. That was it. No more milestones to tick off. Now what? All this family investment, this debt, for me to be here, and I was doing nothing worthwhile.

So I used dating as an escape. It was a way to imagine a different future without confronting myself and my fear of amounting to nothing. I usually dated men who were further ahead in their careers or already living the life I wanted for myself. Dating them let me feel close to that life. I projected my hopes onto them. Being wanted by one of them felt like a way in, and made my fear quieter.

At the same time, the uncertainty of dating kept my mind occupied so I didn’t have to think about anything else. My brain couldn’t sit still and kept craving more input. It felt like a disease. There was an arc to it - and it can be very addictive: going on a date, getting excited, trying to find out if they were interested, getting severely anxious when they faded, forcing detachment, then feeling better after recovering.

One arc could take months or even years, and sometimes there wasn’t a clear end because I moved straight from one situationship to another. Getting over a breakup gave me a sense of achievement. It felt like progress. In reality, I found myself exactly where I’d started, if not further behind: more damaged, more disillusioned, and more scared. Time was passing me by and I had to say, enough.

Today, I can say at 32, I’m very resourceful, stable, and secure, with a rock solid relationship with myself that supports me through everything. My marriage adds so much to my life. I built a thriving career in Financial Services to Director level, making 6 figures from that job. My life is full, and I have a routine that keeps me fit and healthy. I’ve recently quit my job, and now I’m running my coaching programme and creating content like this to help others. It’s a completely different reality.

So here’s how to change your life.

If you’re reading this far, you probably have realised you cannot run away from yourself or repeat your patterns forever. It will hurt just as much as finally looking at yourself and accepting where you are, no matter how low.

For me, running away into dating was exciting and hopeful at first, then it led me straight to a crisis helpline.

The feeling of unworthiness and emptiness could not be taken away by external validation. And escaping became too costly. When you keep escaping, your existing problems remain, and you also have to deal with the problems created by the escape. I still had the job I hated and the disappointment in myself. Now I also had the dating damage: self-esteem on the floor, more self-doubt, more shame, and another painful attachment to recover from. Dating had made me feel worse about myself, and recovering took more time and attention, while the original problems stayed untouched.

Those new problems are distractions themselves. There is always another crisis to get through before you look at the life you’ve been avoiding. The longer that continues, the more there is to face, and the more frightening facing it becomes.

For each of us, escaping might look different. You might keep dating so you don’t have to face feeling lonely, fill every evening with work because you don’t know what you want outside your career, or drink to quiet your disappointment at the end of the day. Look at what you repeatedly turn to so you don’t have to acknowledge what you’re feeling or deal with where you really are.

For me, finally, in my mid-20s, I had to face the fact that I had been in a lot of pain for a long time. I failed my own expectations many times. I grew up never feeling chosen and I pretended I was ok, but it hurt deeply. I wanted closeness and emotional security but it wasn’t met anywhere in my life. I felt lonely and vulnerable living on my own in London. My job prospects weren’t good, I was stuck. I didn’t know who I was anymore, without any roots. And outside in the world, I didn’t know who I was supposed to be either.

When I wasn’t distracting myself, I could hear my inner voice and it was loud and harsh. My worst fear was that it was right: that I was truly unlovable. Dating gave that voice a temporary pause. Maybe this time it would be different. Maybe this person would love me, and I wouldn’t have to feel this way about myself anymore.

But I didn’t realise that that inner voice was running the show in dating, too. The underlying belief that remained the same, no matter where I went, was that I was not chosen. So I was repeatedly getting involved with people who were unavailable or wrong for me. Those situations went from a distraction to more evidence of me not being chosen. So I knew, I had no other choice but to face it now and solve it from the root cause.

These feelings were heavy and deep and before I could understand it like that, they felt so large and looming. But once I could look into them, I realised they didn’t kill me. Nothing terrible happened. It felt like I’d finally opened the attic door I’d always been warned to stay away from, terrified of the monster behind it. And there it was, my inner child looking at me, just waiting for me to finally tend to her.

It was like the verdict I’d been so afraid of had finally landed, and I could ask: so what? What if this was where I was? What if I was lonely, disappointed in myself, and nowhere near where I wanted to be? I realised that it was okay, and the most wonderful thing of all, I finally met myself.

In fact, I felt lighter. Whenever I faced my truths, whenever I wrote it all out like that, I felt lighter, because my inner child was validated.

And even then, while I was in that attic room, in between those moments of meeting myself, there came the question: What do we do now then?

That is the next challenge. You can avoid the question and escape into something else again, or stay with it and answer.

Answering is scary.

You’re in a vulnerable position now, with nowhere to hide. Now you have to consider trying and failing for real, investing effort and losing something, or discovering that you can’t achieve what you hoped for. You’ve already seen what escaping costs, with no real return. Answering has costs too, but on the other side, is living as the real you, in a life that you want to wake up for.

You need to build a relationship with yourself that supports you through this. Part of why you’ve been avoiding the question could be that you don’t trust yourself to handle the answer or what follows. Facing it, responding with care, and taking a manageable action are how you begin building that trust.

This is where the work begins.

“I’m failing at life” becomes smaller, manageable, specific problems, needs, and circumstances you can examine and act on. And you can also see whose verdict this is, who you’re comparing yourself with, and why it matters.

There are three parts to this audit.

A goal should help you decide where to put your time and effort, and recognise when you’re making progress. If it only makes you feel permanently behind, that isn’t a goal, it’s a stick to beat yourself with.

Examine how the goal was set.

Is this goal based on your needs, values, and current circumstances, or have you borrowed someone else’s version of success? A prestigious title, a particular lifestyle, or a milestone you’re supposed to reach by a certain age might offer benefits you can imagine for yourself. But look beneath the image. What does it take to get there and maintain it? What abilities does it reward, what lifestyle does it require, and what would you have to sacrifice? Does that suit your strengths, needs, and circumstances, or are you asking a fish to climb a tree and calling it a failure when it can’t?

For example, all my university friends wanted to go into investment banking. I was studying psychology, but I applied for lots of finance-related graduate schemes, not because I was interested in finance but because it was set as something desirable and I wanted the prestige and security too. When I didn’t get in, I thought I was a failure.

Imagine if I’d kept pursuing that path and measuring myself against it. I would have kept feeling like a failure, overlooking other ways I could succeed. Later, I built a six-figure career in Financial Services, doing a creative role that used my strengths. As I learned more about what suited me and what I wanted, I kept refining my goals. That career gave me things I wanted, but it didn’t meet all my ambitions. Now I’m building my own business. At each stage, I’ve used what I learned to decide what to pursue next.

Once you identify those needs, more options that might suit you better become visible. One job title or company stops being the only possible route.

“I should be more successful by now” gives you no useful direction.

“I want financial security and more control over my time” gives you something to define and work towards. Ask what enough security and control would look like in your actual life.

For example, when I felt as though I had nothing, I was overlooking what I could use. I had a sponsored job and skills from it. I had my writing, a website, and readers. I had people who cared about me. Work insurance gave me access to therapy, which was the best thing I got from that job. These were all resources I could build from.

Be strict about what you repeatedly give your attention to. Choose content that helps you make informed decisions and take useful action towards your goals. Check whether its claims are supported by evidence and whether the advice applies to your circumstances.

Use your past as useful information, not handcuffs. What happened before can help you understand why you’ve been stuck, what you needed, and what made change difficult. It doesn’t mean the same thing will always happen again. Your life is now, and what you do next can change your trajectory.

My dating choices showed how much I wanted closeness, security, and a more expansive life. Those needs deserved attention. I needed to change how I was trying to meet them.

Use the same approach with a past attempt that didn’t work. Did you lack time, information, support, or a realistic plan? Were you pursuing something you didn’t actually want? Identify the conditions so you can change them.

Also recognise what you were dealing with. Understanding why a decision made sense to you then can reduce shame and help you choose differently now.

Finish the audit with a clear picture of what you want, where you are, what you have, and what has been getting in the way.

Use your audit to decide what to remove, reduce, protect, or prepare.

Think of a leaking bucket. You can keep adding effort, money, and good intentions, but if something repeatedly drains them, you spend your energy replacing what you’ve lost.

For me, that drain was the cycle of dating, anxiety, and recovery. I stopped dating completely. I deleted the apps, the numbers, and the undefined interactions. I stopped drinking to avoid facing myself. My life became much simpler and easier to manage. I went to work, went home, cooked food, exercised, wrote, read, and spent time with close friends and my sister’s family.

Look at your own drains. It might be an ongoing commitment you can’t afford, work you keep taking on without capacity, or hours of scrolling that leave you exhausted and comparing yourself to others.

Ask what you can stop, limit, renegotiate, or leave. Be ruthless about giving optional things your time when they repeatedly take more than they give.

Then protect what keeps you functioning. I still had to earn money. I still had a work visa. Leaving my job immediately wasn’t an option, so I looked for an internal role that suited me better, and I got it.

Question the rules you’ve assumed apply. “I can’t change employers easily” didn’t mean “I have no options at work.” Check the actual constraint before accepting every conclusion you’ve built around it.

Some changes need preparation. Find out how much money, time, or help you need, and make that preparation an action in its own right. Use what you already have in ways that serve your needs.

Support for your emotional wellbeing needs to be in the plan too. I attended therapy while making changes outside it. Removing distractions meant sitting with feelings I’d been avoiding, and I needed therapy for that.

After an audit, you might see ten things you want to change. Don’t turn them all into active projects.

Ideally, choose one main priority to organise your time around, especially if you’re exhausted or have limited support. If you have the capacity, focus on two areas at most, with one goal in each.

Then break the big goal into smaller goals you can complete each week.

For example, if you want to write a book, begin with a realistic writing schedule and a defined piece of work. A finished chapter gives you something to assess. “Become an author” can remain an intimidating idea indefinitely.

The important thing is to give yourself data to evaluate especially if you just get started, instead of meeting a goal perfectly. Until you do something, you won’t have anything to work with and adjust.

Define success in terms that are meaningful and useful to you and in your control.

For example, if you want to look for a new job, success this week might mean finding three suitable roles and submitting one well-prepared application. For fitness, it might mean completing two twenty-minute workouts that fit your schedule. These are actions you can complete and review, rather than judging yourself against “have a successful career” or “be fit.”

When you’re deciding what to add, consider what it will continue to give you.

Some actions provide immediate relief. Others develop skills, relationships, routines, savings, or work you can keep using.

For example, I needed stability, a way to feel more in control of my life, and something that brought me into the present instead of keeping me in my thoughts. I signed up for swimming lessons and arranged my schedule around them. During a lesson, I had to concentrate on what I was doing. Each week, I could show up, practise, and make progress through my own effort. I was building a routine that supported me and learning a skill I could keep using.

I also needed space to express myself. I had spent so much time adjusting myself to other people and worrying about how they saw me. Improv, a form of live performance, gave me repeated opportunities to speak, participate, and make mistakes around people who encouraged it. If something felt awkward, the scene continued and I had to respond to what came next. Over time, I became less self-conscious and more comfortable expressing myself outside the Improv class too.

After relationships that had left me feeling like a shell of myself, I needed to reclaim my agency and power. Writing let me tell my own story instead of interpreting everything through shame or someone else’s treatment of me. That year, I published my first book, Love Yourself Enough to Let Them Go. I turned those experiences into work that was mine and it has continued to reach people.

These activities met needs I had identified during the audit exercise while building something I could keep drawing on: a routine, a skill, confidence expressing myself, and the ability to understand and tell my own story.

Focus on changes that make these new activities easier to repeat. A regular appointment, a realistic budget, or a place to practise a skill can keep supporting you after the initial motivation wears off.

Try one thing, experience it, and review it before adding more. A class you enjoy and can attend regularly is more useful than a busy schedule full of exciting things you can’t maintain.

As you gain more skills, support, money, or confidence, you’ll have more capacity. Let it grow gradually in its own time and enjoy the process.

A plan won’t remove every feeling that made change difficult.

You can choose a goal carefully and still feel afraid. You can make progress and still judge yourself against someone else. You can have a difficult day and want to return to an old escape.

Make time and space for those feelings.

Therapy helped me distinguish thoughts from reality. An anxious thought wasn’t automatically true. Outside sessions, I practised missing someone without sending a message and feeling insecure without immediately seeking reassurance.

Journaling helped me acknowledge what was happening before rushing to judge or fix it. I could write about the disappointment, loneliness, or shame and recognise what I needed.

I also wrote emails to my future self. During that year, I used what I called the “parent voice” more frequently, a practice to help me reparent myself. This is one of the pillars I now teach in my coaching programme that my clients have found very helpful.

Writing to myself as someone who would read my words months or years later made me consider how I wanted her to feel. I could admit mistakes, acknowledge hurt, offer encouragement, and tell myself what I would do next.

Using “we” and “us” helped me feel connected to myself. I had someone to look after, and someone on my side.

There will also be times when you enter unfamiliar territory. You won’t have enough experience to feel confident yet. You can take practical steps to support yourself. Analyse your options and reduce risks where you can. Test an idea before making a large commitment. Limit what you spend. Keep a financial buffer where possible. Arrange support before a difficult period. Decide when you’ll review whether to continue.

Acting like a steady, loving parent to yourself, one you might never have had, will help trying something new feel safe. You can try, you can make mistakes, and try again. That’s how you will learn and build trust in yourself.

For example, when I was recovering from my most traumatising breakup during my transformation year, I made a solo trip abroad to reclaim my power and agency. On this trip, I still ended up texting that ex. That didn’t erase the other changes I was making. I could notice it, support myself through it, and make another choice that was good for me.

Ultimately, the most important things to work on are your beliefs about yourself and your life.

I don’t care what happened in your past. You're chosen and you're living a good life. Why? Because you decide so. Right now.

And from this point onwards, you organise your decisions, relationships, routines, and attention to support that belief. You take action and collect evidence in support of it. Keep doing it until it becomes the default.

When I was still escaping into dating, I wrote: “I’ve never been in a loving relationship. I desire to be loved. I want to have a partner - that’s what’s missing in my life.”

Then I wrote, “I cry because even when I don’t do anything wrong, I still don’t get what I want. I know I chose the wrong person from the get-go.”

Throughout the following year of change, I wrote many letters to myself, practising the parent voice: acknowledging what had happened, encouraging myself, and telling myself what I would do next.

By October 2019, I wrote:

In that same email, I described how I felt: “We’re healthy, we’re not anxious, we’re mostly happy, we’re rarely sad, we’re more focused, we’re more relaxed, we’re more present. Sometimes we still have flashbacks and there are still negative feelings but these all pass.”

I had changed my role, published my book, developed interests, and surrounded myself with people who cared about me. I knew I got my own back no matter what happened. A few months later, I met my husband.

At the beginning, I couldn’t have known exactly how it would turn out.

So why would it be different this time?

Because I decided so. Because I was there with myself every step of the way. Because I was mindful and intentional. Even if I didn’t know how it would turn out, I knew, if I had focused on doing the next right thing, one action at a time, it would always end somewhere good. And that kept me going.

You can’t guarantee every outcome. You do have a say in how you participate in your own life. Each day gives you choices about what you’ll support, what you’ll question, and what you’ll stop giving your time to.

If you want support working through these decisions and putting them into practice, building self-trust and taking real actions, that’s the work we do together in my coaching programme, Insight to Action. You can read stories from my clients and their results on my website.

It’ll be different this time, because you decide so.

P.S. If you'd like to apply this to your dating life, join my Ruthless Dating Masterclass: Stop Hoping He's the One and Start Dating on Your Terms on Saturday 14 November, 6pm to 8.30pm UK time, live on Zoom.

Most of us were taught to judge ourselves and men on the wrong things. In this masterclass, I'll show you what to look for instead, so you can tell early who is serious, date like you matter, and stop wasting time on people who were never going to meet your needs.