I need to talk about something that’s been happening so often lately that it’s starting to feel like a standard feature of modern hiring — not a glitch.

And what’s wild is: this isn’t just “bad recruiters” or random agencies doing nonsense.

This is internal talent acquisition / HR teams inside real companies. Big groups. Small companies. “Serious” brands with shiny values pages and entire people functions.

And somehow… they keep making the same basic mistake. Over and over again.

I speak to corporate people every single day. I’m in these conversations constantly. And I’m still shocked at how often organisations can be so sophisticated in some areas — and then completely chaotic in the most fundamental one: alignment.

For the last couple of decades, I’ve worked with leaders in more shapes and sizes than most people realise.

Sometimes that’s been through coaching. Sometimes consulting. Sometimes inside organisations where the stakes are high, the politics are loud, and the job titles are very impressive.

At this point, I’ve coached thousands of people across industries and seniority levels. Right now alone, I’m working with 100+ clients.

And if you asked me what comes up again and again — across all those conversations — it’s this:

Some of the best leaders don’t know they’re leaders. And some of the people with the biggest titles… aren’t leading at all.

Let’s talk about that monkey video, Punch the bullied monkey in a Japanese zoo, went viral — the one that’s genuinely hard to watch.

Not because it’s a monkey.

Because you can see the moment a group decides: you’re the one.

The smaller one gets pushed around. The others hover. Someone tests the boundary. Nobody stops it.

And then we do the thing we always do when we don’t want to feel complicit:

We debate the definition.

“Is it bullying?” “Is it just social behaviour?” “Is it hierarchy?”

Here’s my definition, and it’s not academic:

Bullying is what happens when a group makes one person the price of belonging.

I need to talk about something that’s showing up in my work way too often.

Not in a “my friend’s cousin heard…” way. In a “this is landing in my clients’ inboxes weekly” way.

People are being offered roles that look legitimate — senior titles, global brands, relocation packages, the whole shiny fantasy — and they’re scams.

And before anyone does the smug thing (“how could anyone fall for that?”), let me say this clearly:

The people being targeted are not naïve. They’re qualified. Experienced. internationally mobile. Exactly the kind of people who should be getting approached for great roles.

That’s why this works.

I was speaking with one of my younger cousins recently and she said something that made me pause.

Something like: “I’m so glad I have you. I’ve learned so much from you. I don’t know what I’d do without your advice.”

And it wasn’t the first time I’ve heard a version of that.

Because honestly? My whole life, people have come to me. Cousins. Sisters. Friends. People in my orbit.

Advice about friendships. Confidence. University/Degree. Work. Boyfriends. Big decisions. The messy stuff. The “I don’t know what I’m doing” stuff.

And sometimes I’ve wondered: why me?

I’m Going to Tell You Something a Bit… Weird (But It Works)

This week’s newsletter is different.

It’s personal. And honestly, it’s the kind of thing most people wouldn’t share because it sounds a bit..… unhinged!!

But it’s also one of the most practical tools I’ve ever used for overthinking, values-checking, and those moments where you feel overwhelmed and you need to come back to yourself.

So here it is: I have an Invisible Council.

A group of “mentors” I consult in my head when I’m stuck.

And yes — I know how that sounds.....

Before you decide I’ve finally lost the plot, let me explain.

Imaginary friends aren’t “just cute” — they’re a tool

January is always the same.

People are full of motivation, full of “this is my year,” full of fresh notebooks and big intentions.

And I love that energy.

But I need to say this: some people approach coaching the way they approach shopping. Like they’re picking a handbag.

“Do I like the vibe?”
“Does it look good on me?”
“Will it make me feel like I’ve got my life together?”

I actually took a Christmas break.

Like… a real one.

No laptop. No inbox. No “just quickly checking something.” I disappeared on purpose. So if you noticed the silence—sorry (not sorry). I needed it.

Now I’m back. Happy 2026. I genuinely hope this year is good to you.

And since it’s the first post of the year, we need to talk about the thing that never goes out of fashion:

New Year’s resolutions.

I’m not against the intention. I’m against the delusion.

Confession: for years, I told myself I was “having a Christmas break.”

I wasn’t.

I was just working from Portugal.

And what’s worse is that I genuinely believed it. Because the scenery changed. Because I was “with family.” Because I wasn’t in London, or in an office, in the usual routine. So in my head it counted as rest.

But if you’re still sending emails, still taking calls, still mentally “on”… that’s not a break. That’s relocation.

What’s your superpower?

If you asked me, I’d say mine is reading people. Not in a “woo-woo, psychic” way, but in the sense that I can usually tell - pretty quickly - who’s genuine and who isn’t. It’s a gift that’s served me well, both in life and in coaching.

I’ve always had it. Even as a kid, my parents would (sometimes grudgingly) come to me for advice about their own friends. I remember being ten, watching the adults, and thinking, “Why are you friends with that person?” My mom would roll her eyes and tell me not to judge. A year later? She’d admit I was right. Superpower confirmed.

Let’s rewind to 2012. Luanda, Angola. I was a director, but still the “junior” on a business trip with one of my seniors and the co-owner of the company. We’d landed a golden ticket: dinner at the home of the CEO of one of the Big Four consultancies. Not a hotel bar, not a stuffy boardroom. The CEO’s private home, inside a walled, guarded compound that could’ve been airlifted in from Beverly Hills.

Let’s get real: I grew up listening to self-help tapes.
Not music. Not stories. Self-help tapes.

From the age of eight or nine, every car trip was a motivational seminar on wheels—success gurus, personal development programs, you name it. My dad ran a consultancy company, so this was just… normal. I honestly thought everyone grew up like this.

If your company expects you to sacrifice your life for your career, they're not building a high-performance culture—they're building a burnout factory. After 20 years of coaching and my own burnout experience, here's the truth about work-life balance: it's not a luxury. It's survival.

Nineteen years in London. Seventy countries visited. Clients from over 150 countries coached. Here's what becoming a chameleon coach taught me about authentic adaptation, reading people, and why great coaching is never one-size-fits-all.

When Did Changing Careers Become an Act of Courage?

Our parents didn't agonize over career changes. Most didn't have them.

One job. One industry. One trajectory from graduation to retirement. The script was simple, predictable, and for many, suffocating.

Today? We're living in a fundamentally different world. And yet, we're still carrying the weight of that old narrative, the one that says stability means staying put, that reinvention is reckless, that changing your mind about your career is somehow a failure.

Let me be clear: it's not.

You've done everything right.

You've taken the courses. Read the books. Attended the workshops. Built the skills. And yet - you're stuck.

Not because you're not capable. Not because you're not trying hard enough. But because the version of yourself that got you here isn't the version that will get you there.

This is the career plateau nobody talks about. And it's not a skills problem. It's an identity problem.

The Pattern I Keep Seeing

I've coached hundreds of professionals who've hit this wall. High performers. Talented people. The kind of employees companies desperately want to retain and promote.

They come to me frustrated. "I don't understand why I'm not progressing. I have the skills. I'm doing the work. What am I missing?"

We need to talk about success.

Not the Instagram version. Not the LinkedIn highlight reel. The real thing.

Because I've spent over two decades coaching professionals across every industry, every income level, every definition of "successful" - and I keep seeing the same pattern.

The people who look the most successful are often the most miserable.

The Paradox Nobody Talks About

I work with several types of people:

But ultimately I see those who've "made it" - the big titles, the impressive salaries, the corner offices - who feel empty, exhausted, and trapped.

And those who've designed their lives around what actually matters to them - who might not have the fancy job titles, but have freedom, presence, and fulfillment.

Guess which group is happier?

I need to talk about something that's been driving me absolutely insane for a long time.

At least twice a week - sometimes more - I'm coaching someone who's had a horrific experience with a company's Talent Acquisition team. Candidates who were genuinely excited about opportunities, only to be met with such coldness, rudeness, or outright disrespect that they walked away thinking, "If this is who they're hiring, this isn't my kind of company."

And I've experienced it myself. Multiple times throughout my career, I've been interested in a role - excited, even - and then I meet the internal recruiter. The tone. The behavior. The coldness. And suddenly, I'm out.

In a world fracturing at the seams, with global conflicts, climate disasters, and systemic breakdowns, how do we maintain our humanity and mental health?

This blog explores practical strategies for navigating a dystopian landscape without surrendering hope, authenticity, or our fundamental connection to human experience. Discover how resilience isn't about toxic positivity, but about staying genuinely, courageously human.

In 20 years of leadership coaching, I've seen the same patterns repeat across boardrooms, teams, and industries. There's something we need to address - a truth about leadership that no one wants to say out loud.

Leadership isn't about having all the answers. It's about having the courage to admit you don't.

For two decades, I've watched leaders across continents struggle with the same fundamental question: "Am I doing this right?" And here's the truth nobody wants to say out loud - the best leaders are the ones brave enough to ask that question every single day.

The Vulnerability Paradox

Traditional leadership models are broken. They're relics from an era that believed authority meant invulnerability, that showing emotion was weakness, and that leaders should have all the answers before anyone asks the questions.

Bullshit.