ABOUT ME

This is the short version (TL:DR)

I’m Georgina, an autism & ADHD therapist & coach offering specialist counselling, coaching, supervision, advocacy and training from my therapy room in Kingsbridge, Devon, and online across the UK.

As an autism & ADHD therapist & coach, I support adults and young people aged 16+, as well as people who are exploring whether they may be neurodivergent.

My approach is neurodiversity-affirming, integrative and human. I draw on person-centred therapy, Gestalt, CBT and other approaches, but the names of the theories matter far less than whether the work feels useful, safe and relevant to you.

I believe therapy should be a space where you do not have to mask, perform, justify yourself, or “do therapy right”.

I am a member of the BACP and NCPS, and I work within their ethical frameworks. I have also undertaken specialist postgraduate study in Autism and Neurodiversity.

Outside the therapy room, I live in Devon, and I have two teenagers. Pilates, ballet and glass fusion are a few of my hobbies over the years! I spend a fair amount of life trying to balance work, family, creativity, and all the ordinary chaos that comes with being human.

The longer version is below.

How I got here

In my mid-twenties, I found myself crying a lot and feeling completely overwhelmed by life. I went to the GP expecting that I would be prescribed antidepressants and then somehow be fine. Instead, he put me on the waiting list for six sessions of counselling.

I was so nervous before that first session that I took someone with me because I could not face going alone.

Those six sessions helped enough for me to carry on with life for a while. Then, around six months later, I realised I needed more support and began private therapy. I kept going back, week after week.

It helped to have someone who was not going to tell everyone else what I had said. It helped to have someone who could sit with me while I tried to understand why people did what they did, why I reacted the way I did, and why life felt so much harder than I thought it should.

Georgina sitting talking to a client
One of my first photos for my new private practice when I qualified as a counsellor

Over time, I became more and more interested in the theories behind therapy. Secretly, I wanted to be sitting in my therapist’s chair, working with clients of my own. But I did not tell her that for two years because I assumed everyone who went to therapy probably wanted to become a therapist.

I now know that is not the case.

I also thought I could not possibly become a counsellor because I did not have my whole life figured out. I imagined therapists were somehow calm, wise and sorted all the time. Then, in one unguarded moment, my therapist said something that changed my life:

“Oh no, I’m not like this all the time. It would be exhausting, and I don’t have my life completely together.”

That was the moment something shifted.

I found a counselling course that fitted around childcare and work, completed my Level 4 and Level 5 training, and eventually moved into private practice.

Therapy changed my life. Not in a shiny, perfect, “everything is fixed now” way, but in a real way. It helped me understand myself, find language for things I had carried for years, and begin to believe that things could be different. That experience still shapes how I work now.

Why I specialise in neurodiversity

I had started my private practice and life was ticking along. Then 2020 happened.

Like many people, the COVID-19 pandemic affected my family far more than I expected. My husband was deployed aboard a Royal Navy ship for much of that year, and I was left managing lockdown, parenting, school changes, uncertainty and everything else that came with it.

My daughter had always found school difficult, but I had often been reassured that she was fine once she was there. My instinct told me that was not quite true, but I had no clear reason to challenge what I was being told.

When she returned to school after one of the lockdowns, things changed dramatically. The ways she had been coping were suddenly unavailable because of social distancing rules. She could no longer take the longer but quieter routes to lessons. The quieter lunch options had changed. The small adjustments she had created for herself had disappeared.

Getting her to school became incredibly difficult.

Around that time, my dad sent me an online autism quiz because other members of our family are autistic. After seeing my daughter’s results, I began to wonder whether she might be autistic too.

So I researched. And researched. I read articles, watched videos, listened to autistic people, explored professional resources and tried to make sense of what might be happening.

As I learnt more about autism, I started to notice something else: a lot of what I was reading applied to me too.

My daughter eventually received her autism diagnosis after a long wait. I remember receiving the report and a PowerPoint presentation. I expected guidance, practical support, signposting, something that would help us understand what came next.

A glass rainbow shing different light onto the rainbow coloured infinitty symbol

Instead, there was very little. A few charities, some of which no longer existed, and a list of autistic celebrities.

That was it.

I was stunned. And angry.

My daughter needed support, and I felt we were on our own. I knew we would probably be okay because I had counselling training and had spent hours researching. But I kept thinking about all the families who did not have the time, energy, training or capacity to do that.

There had to be other people in the same position. There had to be adults, young people and families trying to make sense of neurodivergence without enough support.

That was when I decided to specialise in supporting neurodivergent people.

I went on to undertake a Master’s degree in Autism and Neurodiversity. I did not think I would be good enough to complete it, but I knew I wanted to try. I wanted my work to be informed by lived experience, but also by research, ethics and specialist knowledge.

During this time, I also received a diagnosis of ADHD and went through medication titration. Medication helps me to a certain degree, although I am still not as organised, tidy or magically less impulsive as I hoped I might become. Annoying, really. I am still getting round to looking into an autism diagnosis as well.

But the diagnosis helped me understand myself differently.

That is a big part of why I do this work. I know how powerful it can be when something finally makes sense.

What it is like working with me

This is a great question. The honest answer is, I don't know, because everyone experiences therapy differently.

What works for one person might not work for another. Some people want space to talk freely. Some want structure. Some want practical strategies. Some need time to understand what they feel before they can put it into words. Some need humour. Some need silence. Some need to ask lots of questions before anything feels safe enough.

All of that is welcome.

I often use psychoeducation because understanding what is happening can be incredibly powerful. When you start to recognise patterns, nervous system responses, masking, burnout, sensory needs, rejection sensitivity, shutdowns, people-pleasing or old survival strategies, things can begin to feel less random and less shameful.

My training includes person-centred therapy, which means I do not arrive with an agenda for your sessions unless you want one. I aim to offer a space that is non-judgemental, steady and safe enough for you to talk about whatever is happening.

I also draw on CBT, Gestalt, Transactional Analysis and other approaches. But honestly, the theory names are not the important bit. What matters is whether something is useful for you.

I will not say, “You just need to move past this.”

I am also not going to say, “So, how does that make you feel?” in the stereotypical therapy voice.

I have been on my own therapeutic quest, (I am not a big fan of the word journey either!). I understand what it is like to feel nervous, unsure, embarrassed, confused, or worried that you are doing therapy wrong.

You can ask as many questions as you need to feel comfortable. My favourite questions often begin with, “This is going to seem like a silly question, but…”

Usually, they are not silly questions at all. They often lead to the most useful conversations.

Therapy can be serious and difficult, but I also welcome laughter in the therapy room. Sometimes ideas are easier to understand when we are relaxed enough not to mask, perform, or try to be the perfect client.

You can speak freely, go off on tangents, pause, use notes, lose your thread, ask for things to be explained differently, or say, “I have no idea what I’m feeling, but something is happening.”

We can work with that.

Therapy that does not ask you to become more typical

Many neurodivergent people arrive in therapy carrying years of shame.

You might feel rubbish and not know why. You might feel as if you do not fit in, even when nothing obvious is wrong. You might look like you are coping but feel overwhelmed inside. You might have spent years being told you are too sensitive, too intense, too distracted, too emotional, too blunt, too much, not enough, or somehow always getting things wrong.

You may have learnt to mask so well that other people think you are fine, while inside you are exhausted.

My work is not about making you less autistic, less ADHD, less sensitive, less intense or more convenient.

It is about helping you understand yourself.

A group of red coloured balls with angry emoji faces surrounding a worried looking blue ball

That might include exploring identity, burnout, anxiety, sensory overwhelm, emotional regulation, relationships, work, parenting, self-employment, trauma, school experiences, masking, boundaries, shame, or the long process of realising you are neurodivergent later in life.

You do not need a formal diagnosis to work with me. Some people come to therapy after diagnosis. Some come before. Some are self-identified. Some are questioning. Some are not sure what language fits, but know that the usual explanations have never quite worked.

We can start there.

I aim to offer therapy where you do not have to justify your needs or translate yourself constantly. A space where your communication style, processing speed, sensory needs and emotional responses are not treated as problems to be corrected.

Your brain is not broken.

It is Not So Typical.

And that is okay.

Why this work matters to me

Many counsellors and psychotherapists are described as wounded healers, and I am no exception.

I know how much therapy can change someone’s life because it changed mine. I also know that change does not always look dramatic from the outside. Sometimes it is quieter than that.

It might look like finding your own voice.

Setting a boundary.

Understanding why something affects you so deeply.

Realising you are not lazy, broken or impossible.

Allowing yourself to rest before you collapse.

Asking for what you need.

Saying no without explaining yourself into knots.

Recognising that the way you have survived made sense, even if it is no longer working for you.

For me, it is a huge privilege to sit with people as they begin to understand themselves differently. I do not take lightly the trust involved in hearing someone’s deepest fears, hardest memories, most tangled thoughts or most hopeful hopes.

I care deeply about helping people move from surviving towards something that feels more like living.

Not perfect living. Not “sorted” living. Not the version where everything is colour-coded and everyone has a five-year plan.

Just a life that feels more honest, more manageable and more yours.


Qualifications, ethics and professional membership

Qualifications matter. They show training, commitment and ongoing learning. They also help clients know that the person they are working with has not just decided one day to call themselves a therapist.

But qualifications are only one part of the picture. They do not tell you everything about whether a therapist will feel right for you.

I am a member of the BACP and NCPS, and a student member of the BPS. These professional bodies provide ethical frameworks, standards and guidance that support safe and responsible practice.

Georgina's Autism and neurodiversity MSc graduation photo

My qualifications and training include:

  • MSc Psychology & Mental Health
  • MSc Autism and Neurodivergence
  • LLB Degree Law
  • Certificate in Clinical Supervision (Level 6)
  • Diploma in Relational Mindfulness
  • Level 5 Diploma in Psychotherapeutic Counselling
  • Level 4 Diploma in Therapeutic Counselling
  • Level 2 Understanding Autism

Continuous Professional Development including:

  • Eating Disorders
  • Young people (16+)
  • ASIST Training
  • Trauma
  • Sexual abuse
  • Mindfulness
  • PTSD Awareness
  • Energy management
  • Narcissism
  • Imposer Syndrome
I also continue to undertake professional development, supervision and reflective practice, because good therapy requires more than a certificate. It requires curiosity, humility, ethics, self-awareness and a willingness to keep learning.

A little about me away from the therapy room

Outside the therapy room, I live in Kingsbridge in Devon. I love the sense of community that comes with small-town life, and I feel lucky to be close to the coast, countryside and all the ordinary beauty of this part of the world.

I am also a parent of two teenagers, so a lot of life involves lifts, logistics, last-minute changes and trying to remember who needs to be where and when.

I enjoy gardening, ballet, Pilates and glass fusion. Like many AuDHDers I have several hobbies that I am drawn to, but the things and then move on.  These are the things that help me feel more like myself when life is busy. I do not always manage to make as much time for them as I would like, but I am working on that too.

I also know what it is like to be human, messy, distracted, hopeful, tired, curious, overwhelmed and still trying.

I think that matters.

Not because therapy should be about me, but because I do not believe therapists need to pretend to be perfectly sorted people who float through life calmly drinking herbal tea.

I aim to be professional without being distant, warm without being fluffy, and honest without making the work about me.

And, depending on whether you work with me online or in person, you may occasionally hear about Missy the therapy cat, who loves greeting in person clients and has her own opinions about comfort, timing and whether chairs really belong to humans.

Get in touch

Contacting a therapist can feel daunting, especially if you are used to managing everything alone, worrying that you will explain it badly, or wondering whether what you are struggling with is “enough” to ask for help.

You do not need to send a perfect message.

A few words are enough.

You can get in touch below to ask about counselling, coaching, supervision, advocacy or training. You can also look at the where do I start page or check fees and practical details before deciding.

If something here feels familiar, we can begin gently.