The inside story.
You heard it here first...
The juicy stuff you won’t find in my LinkedIn bio.
Before all of this
How does a musician accidentally become a marketing executive?
Believe it or not, music was always the plan. I spent my childhood doing exams, ran my own teaching business at 14, and clocked up a total of seven years of university. While music is still a big part of my life, those diplomas will continue collecting dust for the foreseeable future.
At 15, a casual job at Target taught me something unexpected. Apparently I’ve got a thing for sales. The store manager asked me to run the toy-sale presales team despite having zero experience, and we grossed the highest pre-sales nationally that year.
A few years later, I was a sales rep for a national music retailer. The commissions were nice but the best thing I got from that job was the handsome fella who's been beside me for the last 17 years. That and the tribe of ankle-biters that followed.
After a brief, deeply uninspiring stint teaching the worst music curriculum I'd ever seen, I stumbled into an office admin role. It wasn't long before the general manager pulled me aside because their marketing was non-existent and sales had tanked. There were no dedicated marketing staff and, knowing my background, he offered me a private one-on-one traineeship with a senior, external marketing exec. When her contract ended, she handed the baton to me.
I blinked and suddenly everything was upside down
Life handed us a masterclass we never signed up for.
Realistically, we’d planned on three kids MAX. When our third squishy daughter made her way out, somehow I just knew… we weren’t done.
When the pregnancy test was positive for the fourth and final time, I knew I was going to soak this one up. I wanted to try and enjoy it, savour it, remember it, and look back with a sense of peaceful closure that this baby-making machine had baked her last bun. After three girls, we were sure we’d have another. From the moment we found out he was a boy, this child has continued to challenge everything we thought we knew.
The pregnancy quickly became incredibly high-risk and I was transferred and admitted at 31 weeks. 6 weeks before his due date, I delivered a baby for the last time. This was different though, the soundtrack was beeping monitors, hushed voices, and silence where there should’ve been newborn cries. After his resuscitation, our son was whisked away in an isolette while I laid on the table in metaphorical and literal pieces.
Those life-changing events were almost 6 years ago and our squish has continued to keep us on our toes. Level 3 autism, a rare genetic condition, and a (currently) unidentified neuro-muscular condition mean that some days his legs, bladder, hands, and fingers work and some days they don’t. Some moments are peaceful, most are not. We celebrate progress, idiosyncrasy, and milestones. We work with the child before us, not the one others may think he ‘should’ be. We laugh, we cry, we pray, and we get on with the job.
So when I talk about disability and say that I “get it”, that’s exactly what I mean.
In February 2026, our boy entered the gates of his school for the first time and suddenly, I had something I hadn't had in years…time.
I could have gone back to what I was doing before. General copywriting for any business who needed me…but I just kept coming back to the same thought:
the disability community deserves better.
Not just better copy, better everything. Clearer communication, stronger businesses, insight into what participants need, and providers who can actually be found by the families who need them most. I've watched too many genuinely brilliant providers miss out on clients, funding opportunities, and growth because the business and marketing side of things was letting them down. I've been on the other side of that equation long enough to know exactly what it costs.
The Inside Voice exists because I'm done watching that happen. This isn't just how I make a living, it's how I make a difference. For the providers who are trying to build something meaningful, and for the participants whose lives get better when those providers succeed.
Doing the work that was always meant to find me.
And now, here I am
My heart lies here
The non-negotiables. Every time.
Good marketing can actually change lives.
If your business runs well, your participants get better support. When your messaging is clear, the right families find you faster. When your marketing works, you can spend less time chasing clients and more time doing what you came here to do.
Mediocrity puts too much at risk.
I don’t work with providers who are just filling spots to get paid. Our community is too vulnerable, too overlooked, and already fighting too hard for our most basic rights. If you’re not interested in learning, evolving, and genuinely trying to better meet the needs of your participants, I’m not the person for you.
We shouldn’t be fighting a battle we didn’t enlist in.
None of us chose this. None of us woke up one day and decided we wanted to spend our lives navigating a system that was never designed with us in mind. We fight every single day for quality of life, for support, and to be seen and heard and understood. The least I can do is make sure the providers who serve them are easy to find, easy to trust, and impossible to overlook.