Why am I afraid of the dark?
I travel a lot for work. Hotels, motels, apartments; each one different yet familiar.
Recently, I stayed in a beautiful two-story apartment-style motel.
But as night fell, I found myself closing the bedroom door tightly. Not for privacy, not for safety, not that the space felt too big.
It felt, well, frightening.
I messaged my daughter and asked if she could book me places with just one room from now on. Her reply - “You can be brave 💪.”
You see, I’ve been afraid of the dark for as long as I can remember. As a child, I saw visions in the doorway, people sneaking into our home.
I’d lie frozen in bed, heart pounding, waiting for morning light to make it all go away. Pulling the bed sheets over my head to hide and listening for pending footsteps that never came.
As I grew older, I told myself it was irrational. That night is just the absence of light. That nothing changes between day and night, except that we can see better in the daytime.
Then I joined the police at the age of 35 and spent a third of my 22 years working in the dark. Patrolling streets. Entering homes. Facing danger. And still, the fear of the dark never left me.
Why do we fear the dark? Is it because most crimes happen at night? Is it because we dream more vividly, and sometimes wake up in fright? Is it because darkness hides what we can’t control?
Maybe it’s all of that. Or maybe it’s something deeper, something primal, a reminder that even the strongest among us carry shadows from childhood.
Bravery isn’t the absence of fear, but the willingness to face it. So yes, I still ask for one-room places to stay.
And yes, I will still close the door when I go back there next week.
But I also open up about it because vulnerability is a kind of courage, too.
If you’ve ever felt afraid of something others don’t understand, you’re not alone.
Let’s talk!
What To Do When Things Don't Go As Planned!
How do you feel when things go wrong?
Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, things fall apart - and it doesn’t feel great. It can feel even more uncomfortable when someone else spots our slip-up.
So, what can we do in those moments?
We can remind ourselves that not everything goes as planned, that every person makes mistakes. And that, truthfully, no one is watching as closely as we think.
The funny thing is, when things actually go right, we hardly take a second to notice.
A fleeting moment, and then it’s gone. We move on, chasing the next goal, the next fix, the next win.
We are our own worst critics. We are harder on ourselves than anyone else ever could be.
There’s nothing wrong with you for feeling that way - your brain is just doing its job.
Neuroscience tells us our brain is designed to focus on the negative as a survival mechanism, scanning for threats to keep us safe.
But in today’s world, that wiring most often works against us.
Focusing on the positive takes effort; it’s not natural. Yet, it’s necessary.
It’s how we build resilience, confidence, and connection.
So the next time something goes wrong - pause, reflect, acknowledge, then move forward.
And when something goes right - pause for longer, reflect for longer, acknowledge for longer, then move forward.
Celebrate your wins, forgive the stumbles, and remember – you are doing much better than you think you are.
Let’s talk!
Trauma Visits Us At Any Time.
Trauma doesn’t always visit us during the day. Sometimes, it waits until we sleep.
Some nights, we wake with a jolt. A dream, vivid and painful, has pulled us back into a moment we thought we’d left behind.
It might not seem like it, but our brain is trying to help. Neuroscience shows that dreaming plays an active role in emotional memory processing.
When we dream, especially after emotionally charged experiences, our brain prioritises those memories to help us transform them.
Our mind is saying, “Let me hold this for you, but let me soften the edges.”
Studies reveal that dreaming about trauma can reduce its emotional sting, helping us integrate it into our story and support us in healing our past.
In Japan, they see this differently - dreams are spiritual messages.
Shinto tradition teaches us that dreams are communications from kami, divine spirits offering guidance and transformation.
Even traumatic dreams are seen as opportunities for growth.
In ancient Japan, people would sleep at sacred shrines to receive meaningful dreams. They believed that even the darkest visions could carry light, a message, a lesson, a path forward.
So the next time trauma visits you in your sleep, pause before pushing it away.
Maybe it’s your brain, or maybe it is something deeper, something spiritual, saying - “You are ready to face this, and you are not alone.”
If you have a bad dream about your trauma, reflect on it when you wake. Do you see your dream through the lens of neuroscience, as your brain trying to help? Or do you view it as spiritual, a message from something greater?
Either way, it’s a sign you’re healing.
Let’s talk!
I Was Not A Nice Person!
I’ve never considered myself a good person.
As a child, I was the one in the sandpit who wanted all the toys.
In the classroom, I made people laugh. Not out of kindness, but because I had few friends.
As a teenager, I was self-centred. As an adult, I was a dictator.
I was, well, never a good person. I still don’t consider myself one, just a work in progress.
In the last two years, I have made substantial changes. Still not perfect, I never will be - it is an ongoing journey.
But I’ve come to understand that most of what I did in life felt more wrong than right.
And the turning point came when writing my last book - I looked back on my own life to understand.
Was it poor parenting? Childhood trauma? Being the only son? Born stupid? Lacking empathy? Being self-centred?
Anger was my default setting. Behind every behaviour is a reason. When I found mine, everything fell into place.
I was angry, angry at the world, angry at anything and everything. Just plain angry.
Alcohol and drugs helped, for a short moment. Then they wore off, and I became angrier.
I was scared, a coward, too afraid to face the truth – the truth that I was different.
When I looked back, I discovered who I truly was. Someone who thinks differently, someone with a neurological difference.
And I’m happy with that, happy in the knowledge that I am different and that I can use that difference to better myself and hopefully help others.
Over recent times, I’ve shared a lot about myself. My foibles, my differences, and my struggles.
Today, I’m in a much better place. Happy with the world, and more at ease.
Thank you to those who stood by me when they shouldn’t have.
Thank you to those who supported me.
Thank you to those who picked me up when I needed it.
Looking back to understand yourself is extremely powerful. Will you take on that challenge?
Let’s talk!
You Need To Get Out of Bed!
Do you ever wake up and wish it was the weekend? Or retirement? Or simply anything but today?
Many of us open our eyes in the morning and immediately hope the day will disappear.
We lie there, staring at the ceiling, bargaining with time.
“Just five more minutes.”
“Maybe I’ll call in sick.”
“I can’t do this again.”
However, the reality is that we must get out of bed.
Not just for work, and not just for others - but for our brain, our body, and our future.
We often think motivation comes from passion or drive, but it’s deeper than that. Our brains are wired to keep us moving and achieving, thanks to the reward system and its dopamine pathways.
Not only does dopamine make us feel good, it also tags what’s worth striving for. It’s the signal that says, “This matters.”
Getting out of bed when we don’t feel like it might be even more important for brain health than when we’re excited.
Effortful decisions, the moments when we choose discomfort over ease, activate the prefrontal cortex. This is the brain’s command centre for resilience, planning, and self-regulation.
This builds mental stamina. It strengthens the circuits that help us adapt, and grow.
Even anticipating something positive, no matter how small, such as a walk, a coffee, or a smile, can boost endorphins, reduce cortisol, and increase human growth hormone.
So yes, it’s hard - and some mornings feel impossible. But every time we act, we send a message to our brain:
I’m still here.
I’m still trying.
I’m still moving forward.
And that message rewires our brain.
So the next time you wake up feeling like the weight of the world is too much, remember to keep moving forward. For ourselves, our brains, and the life we’re still building.
Let’s talk!