I was always the good girl. The quiet girl. The one that did as she was told, didn’t answer back and got the grades. I never really fitted in with any of the cliques at school, I had friends in all of the groups - I could hang out with the nerds, the goths, the cool kids - but I wasn’t IN any of the groups. I just kind of hung around on the edges of all of them, accepted by them at a very basic level but never one of them. I could have done so much more if I hadn’t been quiet, I just sat back and watched and drifted my way though the first 20 or so years of my life.

I quietly had my first boyfriend, quietly passed my driving test, quietly got good grades at school and was accepted to read law at lots of universities. I then very quietly declined to go to university and went and got a job instead. I quietly worked as a receptionist and in the evenings wrote letters to 400 solicitors in the nearby area asking them to take me on and train me as a Legal Executive.

I quietly got a job from one of those 400 letters and started my training in the legal profession. I quietly had a nice boyfriend, spent a lot of time with my family and quietly split up with my boyfriend when he was posted abroad. No fuss, no stress, no drama. I even had cervical cancer when I was 18 and just dealt with it, got on with it, didn’t let it bother me. I very quietly got on with my life and just trusted that every day would be exactly what it needed to be. I then not so quietly decided to move away from the small village I’d grown up in and head to London to live with my new boyfriend who I’d known for 3 months.

London changed me. It made me realise HOW MUCH MORE there was to life. I lived in a beautiful part of Central London, Canonbury in Islington, cycled into work in Trafalgar square every day, partied hard, worked hard and realised that until that moment I knew nothing about the real world.

Over the next few years I had a hell of a good time. I partied hard in the clubs in Central London, I’d work till late at night, party till the early hours and be back at my desk at 7am to do it all again. I had long given up on the legal industry and stumbled into working in IT.

No matter how well I did at anything (I was managing big teams in the city and earning more money then I ever dreamed possible by the time I was 22) it never seemed enough. Nice, quiet Kerrie was still there but every day she was being kicked out slightly by ruthless Kerrie, by the Kerrie who wanted more. Who didn’t know exactly what she did want but who was disillusioned by her life. Who wasn’t prepared to take the day to day drudgery any more.

I got married, I had children, I put those children into nursery while I carried on with my career. I burned out working in the City, I started to realise I didn’t fit in. I had a 1 year stint working at the BBC where I challenged every old fashioned male oriented person I ran into (which was in actual fact almost every bloody one of them) and left pretty quickly when I realised that I would never be able to be who I wanted to be whilst working there.

I used to say to my husband “there has to be MORE than this to life” and he would tell me no, stop being so unhappy all the time. This is our life and it’s OK. It wasn’t OK.

I moved back to the city. I put up with being the only female manager in my team who earned £20K a year less than my male colleagues, I fought not to be taken on team building events to stripclubs, I stood my ground and refused to make the tea and coffee in our team meetings. I took corporate personality tests which told me I was unemployable, I got used to being the one that was on the opposite side of the fence to all my peers in everything. Eventually I got tired of fighting the man and I got myself a solicitor and negotiated a redundancy package and compromise agreement based on the sexual discrimination I had faced. It should have felt like a win but it didn’t.

And so I set up my own business and built it to over a million pounds a year. It failed. I left my husband and my home. I set up my own business again. I moved my 4 kids 100 miles away to the country to start again, to live with my new partner.

I failed and then I started again. And again. And again. And I will keep starting again until I am settled. Which will most likely be never because in everything I do and everywhere I go I want more. I wake up in the middle of the night and ask myself “is this it, is there more to life” and the answer is always a resounding “this is not it. There is more. You just have to go and find it”

And this is how I know I can help you. When you wake up in the middle of the night and want more. I can help you find that more. I was you, and in fact I still am you. It will never be enough for me. Ever.