I came to coaching in order to complement my work, and the further I went into it, the more certain I became that it was exactly the right thing.
After twenty years helping organisations and their leaders navigate complexity and change, I qualified as a coach. What I found was something I hadn't quite expected - the particular power of a conversation where someone feels genuinely heard, and where the thinking that follows is entirely their own.
I chose coaching deliberately. Coaching works with people who are capable and self-aware. I believe that people don't need fixing nor are they broken, but rather need the right conditions to think clearly and to figure out what is right for them.
My role isn't to analyse or diagnose. It's to listen carefully, ask the right questions, and create the space for someone to find their own clarity.
Not fixing
People are capable and self-aware - they don't need to be diagnosed or repaired.
Listening carefully
The right questions create space for someone to find their own clarity.
Your thinking
The conclusions you reach are entirely your own - that's the point.
How I work
Genuine care
I genuinely care about the people I work with. Life exists beyond someone's immediate situation - there's usually more going on than the presenting problem, and the small things often matter more than the obvious big ones.
Deep curiosity
I'm curious about people - about why we do what we do, how we make sense of things, and what gets in the way of us seeing our own situation clearly. That curiosity, and a longstanding interest in behavioural psychology, runs through everything I do.
Proper attention
I work with a small number of clients at a time. That's deliberate. This kind of work deserves proper attention.
A little about me
I live in Devon and life is both busy and grounded - family time, work, rugby with my three teenage boys, and time outdoors on Dartmoor or by the sea when it allows.
Food and eating together matters in our house. It's how we slow down and reconnect - and some of our best conversations happen around a table.
I've always been curious about how people think, grow and make sense of the world around them. That curiosity runs through everything I do - professionally and personally.
I love exploring new places. Travel and time away from routine matter to me a lot. There's something about being somewhere unfamiliar that shifts your perspective in ways that are hard to replicate at home.
One of the things I love most about living in Devon is the sky. I'm a sucker for a sunrise and a sunset - the colours, the fact that if you're not paying attention you'll miss it entirely, and it will never look quite like that again. A full moon and a sky full of stars still stop me in my tracks.
Life has been full - at times complicated, always interesting. It's shaped how I listen. In coaching, as in life, the most important things often emerge when someone feels genuinely heard and has the space to explore what's important to them.
About Fern May
Fern and May are two things that mean something to me personally.
Fern
Fern grows quietly across Dartmoor - ancient, unshowy, finding its way through difficult terrain without making a fuss. It doesn't flower. It just grows, steadily, in its own time and in its own way.
May
May is my favourite month. Everything still open, the year full of possibility, the moment just before things become what they're going to be. In old English, may simply means to be able to.
You may.
Together
Together they felt like the right words.
Steady, considered progress toward something that's genuinely yours.
Ready to talk?
The discovery call is free, takes twenty to thirty minutes, and carries no commitment. It's simply a chance for both of us to decide whether this feels right.