My biggest life lesson from being attacked in London (hint… it’s not what you think?)

In 2014, I was attacked by a group of men in London and it changed the trajectory of my life. 

After having a glass bottle crushed into my hand, I was rushed to the emergency room, fed morphine and interviewed by a policeman. I told him what had happened but my thoughts were fragmented, my mind wheeling from the pain, medication and the speed it had all happened. I was assuming it would be a simple fix, a stitch up job, and I’d be on my way. 

But it was worse than I thought. My little finger was literally hanging by a thread on one side, so I was told I would be going into surgery immediately and then put into a cast. I would need to be in a cast for around 6-8 months, followed by rehabilitation therapy which may or may not work, and I may or may not be able to use the finger again. It slowly dawned on me what that meant. 

Being a musician and regular gym presence, I relied on both of these things to keep me active both mentally and physically, and I wasn’t going to be able to do them for 8 months at least. God knows how long the rehab would take, if it even worked at all. I had lost what felt like two life lines, two defining parts of my life, and as a result the next year my mental health spiralled. 

I eventually came out of the cast and was able to train again, but not in the way that I had before. I gained weight and as I became bigger, this compounded the negative mental thoughts fostering a vicious cycle of negativity. Putting on weight reminded me of being an overweight kid, being bullied. I felt insecure, unhappy in my own body. Because I’d once been in shape, it felt like a backward step - like I’d lost control of something that I’d previously had a handle on. 

I was in that space for a year, I don’t think I’d realised quite how bad it was. I saw a picture of me and a friend in the pub on Insta and it took me back, the person looking back at me wasn’t someone I recognised. I wanted to get back to where I was, I knew that this change in my physical health was impacting my mental health. I also knew how much work there was to do, too much to do on my own. I needed help, so I reached out.

I enlisted the help of a personal trainer, someone who I am still friends with today, because the work we did together had a profound impact on me and my mindset. I wasn’t going to be someone who things happened to, I was going to make things happen. 

I trained hard but it wasn’t smooth sailing the whole way. I’m only human, I like a weekend too! Some Mondays I’d weigh in and not be where I wanted to be, despite all the work I’d put in. But I knew I had to keep going to accept that it wasn’t going to be a straight line to the finish,  to accept shortcomings as being part of the bigger picture. I got in shape and my mental health shot up, as cheesy as this is to say, I felt like a brand new person.  

This is my story, and it’s one that I am very proud of. It taught me about myself, but also about how closely mental and physical health are interconnected, how improving one can have a huge impact on the other. This understanding has since driven not only my personal life, but now my approach to coaching. 

Transformation is a journey, not a destination.

Perhaps you’ve had  the feeling that you’re stuck in a rut you don’t want to be in, that you can’t quite see a way out of? Or that you know you could be achieving more but you’re not sure why you’re not? 

I know, most of us feel like that at some point, right? If  you could wave a magic wand you’d likely have a long list of things that you would change.

But just like I did, reaching out for help can be the first step to making these changes, to getting back on the path you want to be on. Having been in your position myself, I want to teach you, so that you can see the profound power that support has in overcoming adversity.

Let’s grab a coffee and chat, hit the link below.