‘It took me a while to find my way in this world– but I am one of the lucky ones. Some people never find it. It’s been a long time since I sat down and thought about why I do what I do and how I got here. There are so many memories, some good, some bad, but each an extremely valuable lesson.

As a child, life  was perfect – Australian sunshine, ponies galore and a wonderful, loving family – until the day my childhood was abruptly taken from me by a stranger at school. Then, my parents’ divorce meant we had to move a long way from ‘home’ and back to England.

The affluent days were replaced by desperate times, made all the more difficult on discovering that the man I  called my father was not my father at all, but my younger sister’s.

My mother remarried in an ill-fated attempt to pull the family back together. Things did not work out and another divorce followed. The hurt and anger I felt inside spilled over, causing me to rebel against my mother and all men in general.

At 15, I headed back to Australia with my sister, who was going to stay with her  father. Travelling with a heavy load of emotional baggage, I was determined that, as he wasn’t my  father, I could do as I pleased –  he certainly wasn’t going to tell me what to do!

During our time there, it was decided that I should meet my natural father for the first time. So this complete stranger came to call. It wasn’t easy – he didn’t know me and I didn’t know him, I knew nothing about his life or his new wife. The day came and went, and so did he.

I sold clothes to buy food and, when they ran out, so did the money and so did my health. I was ill with glandular fever and Scarletina, and suffering from carbuncles brought on by a poor diet. It was time to go back to England – the wonderful golden years of my childhood in Oz could never be recaptured – so I called my mother for help and she came to rescue me.

It was time to move on and I did, flitting from one idea to another –  all with the common thread of horses. I was still trying to find my direction, so I went to college and worked in some different jobs, but I still felt like I was a bit lost.

It was at this time that I entered into a serious relationship and became pregnant. Children are such a gift and should be loved and nurtured throughout their lives.

Another huge turning-point in my life came with the tragic death of a close friend. Alex and I had been out riding when an Army helicopter flew overhead, causing our horses to spook and bolt for home. She was thrown and my horse came crashing to the ground. Alex never  made it back from that ride and died soon afterwards. Her death shook me to the core. I had lost a friend and never wanted to ride again.

The accident will be imprinted on my brain for ever. I don’t remember much of my life then, but I  do remember sleeping in my clothes a lot and my mum having to bath me. I also remember breaking down whenever I thought of laughing. Not just a few teardrops running down my face, but hysterical, gut-wrenching sobs that would bring an end to many family occasions.

This continued for quite a long time until a book, given to me by  my mother, helped me to turn my life around. The Man Who Listens To Horses, by Monty Roberts, moved me so much. The second I started it, I knew there was a better way to treat people and animals, and I was determined to be a part of it.

Monty talked about his childhood, some of which I felt I could relate to – how violence was never the answer and how you never needed to hit anything or anyone to get what you wanted. I did everything I could to learn about his methods. I upped sticks and moved to the United States. No money, no job, no family, but I was going to make a difference.

This was an emotional time for me. I disguised my insecurity as brash confidence and bulldozed my way on to Monty's ranch, where I pushed ideas forward but rarely listened to anyone. I survived by being loud and insolent.

I learned some of my best lessons about life in the United States, where I spent nearly two years involved in intensive training, going  from problem horses to problem people, course building to opening the school, teaching the courses to teaching the teachers. What an amazing rollercoaster ride it was.

I developed a positive mental attitude, quietened down my communication skills, gained some knowledge and felt ready to return home – enthusiastic  about setting up my own place. This is when the name Learning To Listen first came to me. A short time afterwards, I met my husband, Rob. After a whirlwind romance, we were married and put down roots at Hill Top Farm, home of Learning To Listen.

Rob had an idyllic childhood, growing up on a farm not far from where we now live. He has both feet planted firmly on the ground. He is my rock, my inspiration and is immensely supportive of my ideas. He always seems to make things happen.

As Learning To Listen developed, I could see I was beginning to be pulled in a different direction. The communication skills I had learned with horses were starting to point towards people, with all ages and stages coming to learn about our techniques.

Parents who were having difficulty talking to their children would come to me for help and I loved it. I would stay up late and lose sleep over the excitement of transferring the methods from horse to human and, when it was put into action, it worked!

People could see what was happening and, before you knew it, the local education authority was knocking at our door, asking for help with children who had been excluded from schools. I couldn’t  believe it. People said we’d never make it official – there was too much paperwork and rules and regulations to abide by. Just watch me, I said.

Learning To Listen is now an Independent Special Educational Needs School and Training Centre, focusing on communication. Its doors are open to anyone who wants to understand how to communicate more effectively. We are a passionate team that is working to increase not only our own skills but those of people around us. I would not be here now, or want to be, without them.

Now, when I look back over my life, I am grateful to have lived it so colourfully. The lessons, insight and experiences I have gained are invaluable. Now, it is my turn to make a difference, to give back and help others also to find their way.