Choosing a different lens.

Hey there,
I’m Emma.

For a long time, I was focused on the "how" of human behavior. I spent years training as a Positive Psychologist, fascinated by the mechanics of the mind and the potential for growth. But after a couple of years of coaching, I realised that my interest wasn't in helping people "optimise" their lives for a world that often feels too loud and too fast.

I was more interested in the "why" and in the quiet spaces between the expectations.

Take The Other One is where that interest lives now.

It is a digital home for my writing on the internal landscape. As an AuDHD writer, I use the tools I gathered in psychology not to "fix" or "coach," but to observe and translate. I write at the intersections of neurodivergence, soul-led creativity, and the quiet rebellion of choosing a slower life.

This is a space for the "other" path, the one that winds through the complexities of trauma healing, the weight of the patriarchy, and the deep, ancestral roots that hold us.

Person and dog wading in shallow ocean water at a beach, distant swimmers visible, cloudy sky.
Smiling person with long blonde hair in a zigzag-patterned top, blurred outdoor background.

I am no longer looking for a finish line or a set of "results." Instead, I am here to share field notes. Through poetry, essays, and reflections, I explore what it means to live with a "pure heart" (Calon Lân) in a world that demands we move faster than our souls were meant to.

If you are also navigating the digital hustle and looking for a quieter, more observant way of existing, I’m glad you’ve found this corner of the internet.

MY STORY

I always felt life could be different, and now I know that it can.

For years, I played the 'good girl' role, always putting everyone else first and being an invisible woman. On the outside, I seemed like I had it all together, but inside, I was anxious, scared, and utterly lost. I felt different, like nobody really knew who I was, including me. I was a chameleon, constantly changing to fit what others wanted, striving for approval and thinking that if I could just become who people wanted me to be, I might finally feel worthy.

Then, my world turned upside down.

I discovered that the person I thought I'd spend my life with had been having an affair and gaslighting me for months. Looking back, I realise this was the universe's way of freeing me from something toxic. What followed was a long, messy, and transformative journey. I had to rebuild myself from the ground up and redefine who I was, not just for me, but for my children.

I began making unconventional choices: going to university at 38, changing careers, and eventually moving to the beautiful Welsh mountains. It was during this time that I studied for my MSc in Applied Positive Psychology. Those studies gave me tools that helped me long before I even knew I was neurodivergent; self-compassion was the most powerful tool of all.

At 52, I was diagnosed with ADHD and advised to pursue an autism assessment. Suddenly, everything made sense. I wasn’t broken. I wasn’t failing. I was simply wired differently, and that realisation brought a freedom I hadn’t known I needed.

Woman with blonde hair and a golden retriever outdoors on a trail with greenery in the background.

A quiet revolution.

Being neurodivergent means navigating a world that often doesn't make space for your mind. For a long time, I thought I was the problem. But the shift came when I saw that the system was flawed, not me. Embracing my neurodivergence became an act of self-liberation. Unlearning patriarchal conditioning gave me permission to exist as my whole self, without apology.

Now, I write about the messy, beautiful truth of figuring out who you really are. I explore the healing process, self-prioritisation, and what it means to truly unlearn.

I’m still human, still messy, still figuring things out. But I’m not just surviving anymore; I have a toolkit that helps me navigate the world with more softness and strength. For women especially, kindness to ourselves is radical. It is a way to reclaim our wholeness.

And when I’m not writing? You’ll probably find me reading, learning to draw, or hiking with my golden retriever, Bear.

If anything in my story resonates, I’d love to stay connected.
You can scroll down to the bottom of this page to join my notes, slowly, gently, and on my own terms.

Ready for some fun facts?

Decorative sign with the words 'Home Sweet Home' in black letters on a wooden board, surrounded by a black frame, with a vase of greenery beside it.

For me, home is a feeling, not a place.

As an RAF child, I moved 7 times and attended 4 different primary schools before turning 11. This nomadic lifestyle continued into adulthood, making 'home' a concept rather than a fixed location. Each move has been a lesson in adaptation and quick friendship-making. While specific details of each residence blur together, the skills I've gained - flexibility, resilience, and openness to new experiences - remain crystal clear. It's remarkable how a life of constant change shapes one's perspective on belonging.

Hand holding a disco ball in front of pink foil streamers.

I’ve had a lifetime of rhythm.

Childhood ballroom and 'disco' dancing lessons left an imprint that's both vivid and vague. I earned certifications and competed in an event, experiences that shaped me deeply. While I've left formal lessons behind, the joy of movement stuck with me. These days, my kitchen becomes an impromptu dance floor, proving that some passions are too ingrained to forget, even if the specific steps are a bit fuzzy. And I still love a bit of glitter!

Ruins of an ancient stone archway with columns on a grassy field under a blue sky.

My brain is a time machine, but the controls are a bit wonky.

As someone with a neurodivergent brain, I'm absolutely fascinated by history. From the Vikings to the Medicis, ancient Egyptians to British Kings & Queens, I can lose myself for hours in tales of long-ago civilisations. The fact that people lived such rich, complex lives thousands of years ago never fails to amaze me! But here's the twist – while my mind eagerly travels through time, it often forgets to bring back the specifics. I might spend an entire afternoon engrossed in Roman history, only to struggle to name a single emperor later. It's like having a library where the books are always changing places!