Nervous and Excited: Why This Conversation Is Long Overdue

I keep looking at the calendar. April 21st. It's circled, highlighted, and honestly, it's been living rent-free in my head for weeks now.

In just a few days, I'll be standing in front of a room full of professionals at the Saint Mary's SARC Annual Conference at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester. Policy makers, criminal justice professionals, police officers, forensic physicians, health professionals, safeguarding personnel, court support workers, therapeutic support providers. People who have dedicated their careers to responding to sexual violence.

And I'm going to talk to them about reaching the unreached.

I won't lie, I'm nervous. But I'm also excited. Because this conversation is long overdue.

 

Forty Years, and We're Still Waiting

This conference marks 40 years since the first Sexual Assault Referral Centre opened in the UK. Forty years of dedicated professionals showing up for survivors. Forty years of progress, innovation, and unwavering commitment.

That deserves to be celebrated. It truly does.

But here's what keeps me awake at night: after 40 years of progress, survivors are still waiting. Waiting for therapy. Waiting for support. Waiting for someone to tell them they're not broken. Waiting for help while they're waiting for help.

The system is overwhelmed. The professionals are stretched beyond capacity. And in the gap between trauma and treatment, survivors are left to cope alone.

That can't continue.

 

Why This Matters to Me

I'm not speaking at this conference as an outsider looking in. I'm speaking as someone who's lived it.

I'm a survivor of rape. I know what it feels like to wake up in a body that doesn't feel safe anymore. I know what it's like to function on the surface while falling apart underneath. I know the weight of shame, the isolation, the desperate need for someone to just understand.

And I also know what it's like to wait.

When you're in crisis, when you're barely holding on, every day of waiting feels impossible. You need something now. Not in six months. Not when the waiting list clears. Now.

That's why I created what I did. That's why I've spent years developing trauma-informed, guided self-help programmes that survivors can access immediately, privately, safely, at their own pace. It's why nearly 20 UK charities have licensed my work since 2017. It's why Swansea University adopted Taste of Recovery in 2024 for their students.

Because healing can't wait.

 

What I'll Be Talking About

My presentation focuses on bridging the gap. On reaching the survivors who are currently unreached, the ones sitting on waiting lists, the ones who don't know where to turn, the ones who need support right now but can't access it.

I'll be talking about innovation. About what's possible when we combine trauma-informed frameworks with technology and accessibility. About how we can offer immediate support that doesn't replace therapy, but holds people steady until they can access it.

I'll be talking about the 10,000+ survivors I've worked with over the years. What I've learned from them. What they've taught me about what actually helps.

And I'll be asking some uncomfortable questions: If we have the tools and frameworks to support survivors immediately, what's stopping us from implementing them? What would it look like if we truly prioritised survivor access over system convenience? What could the next 40 years achieve if we're brave enough to innovate?

 

The Weight of This Moment

I've been preparing this presentation for weeks, and honestly, it has me feeling all the things.

There's pride, because this work matters and I know it helps. There's hope, because I genuinely believe change is possible. There's gratitude, because being invited to speak at this conference, at this milestone moment, is an honour I don't take lightly.

But there's also fear. Fear that I won't do justice to the survivors whose stories have shaped this work. Fear that my words won't land the way I need them to. Fear that the sector isn't ready to hear what I'm saying.

And underneath it all, there's this fierce, burning urgency. Because while I'm preparing PowerPoint slides, there are survivors out there right now who are struggling. Who are waiting. Who need support they can't access.

This isn't academic for me. This is personal. This is about real people in real pain who deserve real support.

 

Why I Believe This Conversation Matters

The theme of this conference is “A Shared Vision: Reflecting on 40 Years of SARCs, Responding to Sexual Violence and Shaping the Future Together.”

That last part, shaping the future together, that's what gives me hope.

Because I don't believe the answer is for one person or one organisation to solve this alone. The answer is collaboration. It's SARCs and charities and universities and innovators all working together, all committed to the same goal: making sure no survivor is left waiting, struggling, alone.

I believe the professionals in that room on April 21st care deeply about survivors. I believe they're exhausted, overwhelmed, and doing their absolute best with limited resources. I believe they want things to be better.

And I believe that when we come together, when we share what's working and what's not, when we're willing to ask hard questions and consider new approaches, real change becomes possible.

 

What Comes Next

After the conference, I'll share more about what happened, what resonated, what conversations emerged. I'll write about the experience with the same vulnerability I'm bringing to this moment now.

But right now, in these final days before I stand up and speak, I'm sitting with the nervousness and the excitement. I'm reminding myself why this matters. I'm thinking about every survivor who's ever told me, “I wish I'd had this sooner.”

And I'm remembering that this conversation, this push for innovation and accessibility and survivor-centred support, isn't just long overdue.

It's essential.

Because 40 years of progress is worth celebrating. But the next 40 years? They need to be different. They need to be better. They need to prioritise reaching every survivor, not just the ones who can wait.

That's the future I'm fighting for. That's the vision I'll be sharing.

And I truly hope the sector is ready to listen.