From Survival to Success: My Story

Cutting ties with my family was just the beginning of my journey into becoming the person I was always meant to be.

Growing up, my life goals and plans were very limited. Simply getting through the day without any major drama felt like an achievement. My home life was full of unpredictability, and the truth is, I never knew when the next argument would start—or what it would be about.

Something as small as buying myself a little gift, or being ten minutes late home from school, could trigger it. The comments, the bickering, the guilt… it was constant. It became normal.

I had no real freedom. No choices. No voice.

So my goal became survival.

To achieve even a small sense of peace, I made myself smaller. I became quiet. I stayed in the background. I avoided attention at all costs.

And honestly… it was exhausting.

I didn’t dream big. I didn’t plan for the future. I had no career aspirations. I couldn’t even picture myself having my own family one day.

But there was one dream I could never silence.

I wanted to leave.

I don’t know why, but deep down I always believed I would escape that life and build something better. That belief stayed with me, even when everything else felt uncertain. I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t know when or how it would happen.

But I knew it would.

The First Step Towards Freedom

The first real step I took towards that life was applying to university.

I knew one thing for certain—if I stayed close to home, nothing would change. So I deliberately chose universities far enough away that I would have to move out.

I applied to Hertfordshire and Birmingham. One close enough to feel familiar, the other far enough to feel like a real escape.

After my A-level results didn’t go as planned, my extended family were quick to judge. There were already conversations about me going back to college and redoing everything.

But somehow, I made it to Birmingham.

And that… was my first taste of freedom.

University showed me a completely different life. A life where I could go out without fear. Watch films. Be around people who didn’t put me down. A life where I didn’t feel worthless.

That freedom changed something in me.

It became the life I wanted to return to.

Back to Reality

After university, I moved back home to London—and straight back into the same environment.

The same rules.
The same control.
The same restrictions.

A few things had shifted slightly. I had a job, so I had a small amount of independence with money. But even that came with control.

My dad monitored my finances. He deducted £300 a month towards student loan repayments—even though I wasn’t earning enough to be required to pay anything back at the time.

I was told to keep £300 for myself for the month.

The rest?

It went into savings—for my parents’ annual trips to India.

On top of that, I was paying the bills, buying food, and covering other household expenses.

And still… I found myself slipping back into survival mode.

Because the drama never really left.

Staying Stuck

Even though I had a stable job and a manager who believed in me, I didn’t have the mental space to grow.

I was encouraged to train, to progress, to step up.

But I couldn’t.

So I stayed where I was.

Ten years as a cashier—when I know now I could have progressed much further.

But when you’re constantly in survival mode, growth doesn’t feel possible.

The Turning Point

Real change only came after I cut ties with my family and finally closed the chapter on the court case.

That’s when everything began to shift.

Since then, so much has changed.

If you’ve been following my journey, you’ll know about my TV appearances, launching my book Breaking Free, working in the Civil Service, and speaking on podcasts and radio.

For the first time in my life… I’m planning ahead.

I’m writing regularly.
I’m showing up on social media.
I’m putting myself forward for opportunities.

And that in itself is something I never thought I’d be able to do.

The Invisible Work

But what people don’t always see is the quiet rebuilding behind all of this.

The internal shifts.
The small decisions.
The moments where I choose to keep going—even when it feels uncomfortable.

Even in my Civil Service role, that growth didn’t happen overnight.

When I first joined, I went through six weeks of training with an incredible trainer, Kully. Something about the process really stayed with me. I became curious. Interested.

Then during consolidation, I found myself naturally helping others who were struggling.

That’s when I realised—I actually had a skill for supporting people.

I wanted to be part of the training team.

But at the time, I was still new myself. It didn’t feel like something I could realistically step into yet. So I kept that goal quietly in the back of my mind… and carried on.

Quiet Rebuilding in Action

My manager, Shahnaz, has been one of the most supportive people in my career. She saw something in me before I fully saw it in myself.

She gave me opportunities to mentor new starters.
She encouraged me to take on Business Skills Coach (BSC) training.
She pushed me to grow.

And every time there was an opportunity to support the training team—even for a day—I said yes.

Behind the scenes, I was building something.

Quietly.
Consistently.
Without making a big noise about it.

A Full Circle Moment

Kully and I stayed in touch, and she knew about my interest in joining the training team.

So when a role opened up for BSC support, she reached out.

I applied.

And I got it.

Last week, I officially joined the training team.

And for the first time in my life, I experienced what it feels like to move forward in a career—to take a step up, to be trusted with more responsibility, to grow.

Who I Am Now

This version of me didn’t appear overnight.

She was built slowly.
Through pain.
Through healing.
Through decisions no one else saw.

Now, I’m in a place where I can plan my future.

Where I can build a career.

Where I can be proud of who I’ve become.

Not because everything was easy…

But because I did the work—quietly, consistently, and without an audience.