Welcome, I’m Jess,

I always knew I wanted something creative. Something with feeling,

Growing up, I was happiest outdoors - with birds, moving. Free. I loved to travel, I spent a year abroad at uni;

I was curious about everything that lived at the edges of ordinary life.

What I didn’t know, back then, was that I was already searching for the thing I’d eventually build my whole life around.

Instead, academia funnelled me forward in the way it does - university, career, the path that runs from education to employment to pension - with very little deviation permitted. I ended up in fashion in London. Visual merchandising. And on the surface, it made sense - it was creative, wasn’t it? It was the more obvious version of what I thought I wanted.

But there’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from performing the right life. Long hours, constant movement, a social life that felt full. And then, with reliable regularity, the crash - illness, fatigue, the body calling time in the only way it knew how.

It was reflexology that first offered an alternative language.

I received my first treatment in 2005, at 24. I’ll be honest - I was deeply sceptical. I was so out of touch with myself that I barely had words for what was happening in those sessions. But something shifted. Those treatments became foundational in ways I couldn’t yet articulate. They held me in my own body at a time when I didn’t know I needed holding.

By 2009, I was studying reflexology and anatomy and physiology alongside a full-time job - not because I planned to become a therapist. That wasn’t even in my world as a possibility. I just needed to understand the thing that had been quietly sustaining me for years. I wanted to look behind the curtain.

I was just shy of 30. Promotions had left me burnt out in the specific way that success can - the kind where everything looks right from the outside and feels hollow from the inside. My husband had started his own cabinet-making business at 26. We made the scary decision for me to leave - me, who had been the main earner. The security felt like it was going with me.

In 2010 - long before wellness became a word people used, long before burnout had a hashtag, long before any of this was fashionable - I left.

Quietly, without a blueprint.

I want to say clearly: I never came to this work from a place of wealth or trend. I came from breadcrumbs.

From a genuine, stubborn knowing that something real was happening in those sessions and that I needed to follow it, even when I couldn’t explain why.

This was a leap into financial instability that took years to feel anything other than frightening. Years of wondering whether I’d made a foolish, self-indulgent choice. Years of shaking off a particular kind of shame that comes with telling people you “rub feet” for a living, and watching their face do the thing faces do.

But holding tightly to my innate values:

I remain curious about everything that lives at the edges of ordinary life.

What I was slowly discovering - without yet having the words for it - was that reflexology is an art form. That each foot arrives like a different instrument. That learning to read one is nothing like reading another. That the skill isn’t in following a map - it’s in listening so carefully that the body tells you where to go.

I had always wanted to be creative. It turned out I had found the deepest version of that, just not where I expected to look.

Sixteen years later, I’m still here. And my certainty has only deepened.

In 2013, I had my daughter - and leaned into everything I’d been learning. Reflexology, acupuncture and osteopathy throughout my pregnancy, working with the body rather than against it. Motherhood, it turned out, was its own profound education in listening.

By the time she started school in 2017, I had become quietly obsessed with something new: the structure of the foot, podiatry, the relationship between what happens at ground level and everything that unfolds above it. I started wearing Vivo barefoot shoes - those slightly alarming webbed gloves for feet - and distinctly remember the baffled looks from the other school gate mums.

I felt out of place and entirely in place at the same time.
Closer to the ground than I’d ever been.

I kept walking. Daily. Peeling the shoes off completely in summer to rewire my posture from the soles up. By 2021, I was hosting barefoot walks on the UK’s longest barefoot walking path at PAUS - guiding groups of women across meadowland and sensory trails, watching them feel the same thing I’d felt years earlier in that school playground.

And in between all of that, lockdown arrived - and cracked something open a little further.

In that unexpected void, I found astrology and Human Design. Once again, what began as personal curiosity became a profound study - and eventually, a calling. I came to understand that these weren’t separate interests sitting alongside my reflexology work. They were doing the same thing, just speaking different languages.

Reflexology maps the body through the feet - listening to over 70,000 reflex points that hold the body’s story.

Barefoot walking extends that conversation outward - feet on earth, nervous system softening, the body remembering what it feels like to be genuinely grounded rather than just coping.

Astrology maps your energy through time - revealing the rhythms, seasons and cycles that are uniquely yours.

Human Design maps your blueprint - how you’re wired to make decisions, where your energy flows freely, and where you’ve perhaps been living someone else’s design.

Four maps. One territory: you.

My work has always been about diving below the surface of symptoms, into the inner landscape. Whether that’s through the intimate quiet of a reflexology session, barefoot on a coastal path with the tide coming in, or the revelatory mirror of an astrology or Human Design reading - the intention is always the same: to help you feel at home in your own skin.

It remains a constant learning curve. My wellness genuinely increases with age - and so does my certainty that;

you already hold everything you need.

I look forward to helping you find it.

Jess x