When I first started woodworking, I was full of doubt.
Power tools felt intimidating, not just in a “be careful” way, but in a “this isn’t really for me” kind of way. I couldn’t picture myself confidently using them, let alone teaching others. It felt like a space reserved for people who had grown up around it, or who just naturally knew what they were doing.
But I kept showing up anyway.
Slowly, through trial and error and a lot of curiosity, things started to shift. I stopped thinking of myself as someone who should already know and started allowing myself to just learn. Somewhere in that process, woodworking stopped feeling like something I was trying to prove myself in, and started becoming something I enjoyed.
And without really planning it, I began wanting to share that feeling with other women who might be standing exactly where I once stood.

A big turning point for me came at Strand Hardware, where Stuart introduced me to the DIY Diva workshops.
Those workshops created something I didn’t realise I needed at the time,  a safe space to try. No pressure to be perfect. No expectation that you already know what you’re doing. Just a chance to pick up the tools and see what happens.
I still remember the first time I picked up a jigsaw there. I wasn’t confident, but I was supported. And that made all the difference.
Safety was a big part of it, too, not just rules, but awareness. How to respect the tools without fearing them.
That environment changed things for me. It gave me permission to be a beginner without feeling small for it.
And I realised something important in that space: if I could learn this, then other women could too.

After those early workshops, I kept going.
I started working with more tools, more materials, more complicated projects, and honestly, plenty of mistakes along the way.
Cuts weren’t always straight. Sanding wasn’t always even. Paint definitely didn’t behave the way I expected it to every time.
But something interesting happened with each mistake: it stopped feeling like failure and started feeling like information.
Every project taught me something new, even the messy ones. And with every small win, my confidence grew quietly in the background.
Over time, I found myself wanting to pass that on, especially to women who had that same initial hesitation I once had.
So, I started running workshops.
And one of the most rewarding parts has been watching someone pick up a tool for the first time, nervous and unsure… and then seeing that moment where it clicks and they realise, I can actually do this.

For me, woodworking has never just been about building furniture.
It’s about independence.
There’s something powerful about not having to wait for someone else to fix, hang, or build something for you. Being able to do it yourself changes how you see your own capability in everyday life.
That’s what I want to pass on in my workshops.
Not just the technical skills, but the shift in mindset that happens when someone realises they are capable of more than they thought.
I want women to feel comfortable picking up tools without hesitation. To trust their own hands. To feel at home in a space that often hasn’t felt like it was built for them.
And just as importantly, I want it to be a space where mistakes are allowed. Where learning is normal. Where nobody feels like they must arrive already confident.
Because confidence isn’t the starting point, it’s what builds along the way.

My journey from fearful to fearless is still unfolding.
I’m still learning. Still making things. Still figuring it out as I go.
But what’s changed is that I’m no longer doing it alone, and I’m no longer keeping that process to myself.
With every workshop and every project, this little community of women growing in confidence keeps expanding.
And what I’ve come to realise is that woodworking is just the tool — the real shift is what happens in the person holding it.
Fear doesn’t disappear all at once. But it does get quieter each time you face it with your hands busy doing something real.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you don’t need to feel ready before you start, you just need to start.