I grew up in Alexandra. Like so many first-generation success stories, my path was meant to look a certain way: study hard, get the degree, get the job, make the family proud. I studied Economics, then pushed further into Actuarial Science — one of the most demanding, numbers-driven paths there is. I did the corporate career. On paper, I had "made it."
What nobody tells you about "making it" is what happens afterward. Nobody teaches you that there's a difference between looking successful and actually being — and feeling — successful. I found that out the hard way: earning decently, but still living paycheck to paycheck, with debt quietly piling up. Underneath the optics of looking successful was a silent story of survivor's guilt, people-pleasing, financial trauma, and a scarcity thinking that didn't disappear just because I was now educated, with a fancy job title.
That gap — between how my life looked and how I actually felt about money — sent me on my own money therapy journey, even though I didn't have a name for it then. I worked on my financial skills and my emotional and mental health at the same time. And I realised something: my money got better the moment I got better emotionally and mentally. Education matters, but it doesn't automatically translate into financial success — all it does is give you access and increase your earning capacity. I had to build the practical skills and heal what was underneath them, and that's what made the real difference.
I'm an entrepreneur with a few different business interests today, but Money Therapy is where my actual story and my actual training meet. I built it for people who are exactly where I used to be — so they know, the moment they meet me, that I understand, and that they don't have to do this alone.
