There are few professional experiences that unsettle me quite like networking.

That might surprise people who know me. On the surface, I’m talkative, expressive and usually quite comfortable to have many, many conversations. I can chair a panel, record a podcast, or facilitate a discussion without visibly faltering (usually… it’s been known to happen). I’ve been described as confident more times than I can count, and in many contexts, that’s true (I guess 🫣).

But networking events are a different thing altogether.

Walking Into the Room

There is something uniquely exposing about walking into a room full of strangers who are all, as you’d expect, there to “connect.” The word itself sounds simple enough, but the reality often feels far more nuanced. Before most events, I experience a low, persistent anxiety that sits somewhere between anticipation and nausea. It isn’t over the top, but it is unmistakably there.

I find myself wondering whether I’m about to interrupt conversations that are already flowing comfortably, whether I’ll appear as though I’m pitching before I’ve even introduced myself, or whether everyone else has a clearer sense of purpose than I do.

Logically, I know that’s rarely the case. Everyone in that room has chosen to be there. Everyone is navigating the same unspoken rules about when to approach, how to introduce themselves, and what to say next. And yet it can feel, in the moment, as though I am the only one slightly unsure of what it is I am doing in that space.

The Freelance Pressure

Since becoming self-employed, that feeling has taken on an added weight. When you are in a full-time role, networking can feel strategic, but optional. When you work for yourself, it feels more consequential. Connections can become collaborations; conversations can evolve into contracts – that possibility is exciting, but it also adds pressure.

There is a subtle internal voice that asks what, exactly, I should be walking away with. A lead? A meeting? A promise of something a little more tangible?

The danger, I’ve learned, is in treating the room as a hunting ground rather than a space for what it truly is… connection. When I enter with the intention of targeting potential work, I narrow my own capacity to be present in that moment. It shifts the tone of conversations and, often, my own body language. I am far more comfortable when I approach networking as an opportunity to understand people, interact with people not knowing what it is they do, and find myself being, right so, surprised at what can come of it.

Confidence and Masking

There’s another layer to this that I don’t always talk about. A lot of what people interpret as confidence is, at times, something that is actually carefully managed.

I can work a room, ask thoughtful questions, and move between conversations. I can find common ground quickly and, hopefully, keep a chat going as and when needed. But much of that is fuelled by years of experience and a degree of masking that leaves me quietly exhausted by the end of the evening.

I am often “on” in ways that aren’t immediately visible: monitoring how I’m coming across, ensuring I don’t dominate a conversation, but also making sure I’m not fading into the background either. I find myself masking insecurities that still linger beneath the surface, and by the time I leave, I’ve usually enjoyed myself, but I’m depleted.

And yet, almost without fail, something shifts once I’m actually there. After the initial awkwardness settles, I tend to find a rhythm… a conversation opens up, a shared interest emerges, and a genuine moment of connection occurs. I rarely leave with a signed contract or a neatly defined opportunity, but I do leave with something more subtle and, perhaps, more valuable: familiarity. Recognition. The beginnings of trust.

I appreciate that doesn’t pay the bills, but I’m finding that, in freelance life especially, those things matter. The work rarely arrives because of one perfectly delivered pitch, but it grows through repeated encounters, through being remembered for the right reasons, through consistency of presence rather than intensity of persuasion.

When You’re the One Hosting

What complicates this even further is that I’ve often found myself on both sides of the equation.

Over the past year or so, I’ve played a hosting role at IN Club Liverpool’s LGBTQ+ networking events, usually welcoming attendees, encouraging conversations, and gently making sure that people weren’t left standing on the edges of the room. From the outside, that probably looks quite easy.

The truth is, I feel the same nerves before those events as I do any other. The difference is that when you are responsible for the room, you allow the mask to take over, wearing it like a superhero costume…

You move between conversations, introducing people, bridging gaps, quietly becoming the connector in the room.

And in doing so, you’re reminded that most people are just waiting for someone to make that first introduction… and that works wonders, having experienced and facilitated it.

There’s something strangely comforting about that.

Also, huge shout out to Alex & Melissa who are the power behind IN Club – incredible humans.

More recently, I attended Gaydio’s Manchester networking event – simply as myself, trying to make more connections outside of Liverpool. The same internal questions surfaced on the train there: Who will be in the room? Will I know anyone? What if I don’t click with anyone?

And yet, by the end of the evening, I’d had conversations that may well lead to something meaningful long-term. Nothing dramatic. Just the early stages of what could be possible… the kind of thing that only happens because you showed up in the first place.

That’s the bit I try to remember when the nausea kicks in. The discomfort is often the doorway.

Showing Up Anyway 

I’m still learning to reframe networking as an exercise in relationship-building rather than performance, and I’m still learning that most people in those rooms are just as unsure as I am, even if they hide it differently. I’m, also, still accepting that discomfort does not necessarily mean misalignment; sometimes it simply means growth.

Even now, the knot in my stomach hasn’t disappeared, and I suspect it won’t. But I go anyway. I show up. I introduce myself. I listen. And I contribute.

Because in the world of self-employment, and, truthfully, in any professional world, connection is rarely accidental. It is built gradually, often awkwardly, and sometimes against our instinct to retreat.

More often than not, the rooms that unsettle us are the ones that expand us quietly.

It’s been a number of months since I made the decision to leave my full-time job, work that mattered deeply to me, focused within the local LGBTQ+ community, and step out on my own.

At the time, it felt like the right move. My personality has always sat best in spaces where I can connect people, speak openly, and work with a degree of honesty and autonomy, and I realised I needed to explore what that might look like on my own terms.

A Lot Changed, Very Quickly

Since returning to Liverpool in September 2023, life has been… turbulent, and that’s putting it lightly.

The end of a long-term relationship.

Selling and moving house.

Relocating from Northern Ireland back to Liverpool, and all that was involved in that.

And being made redundant from a job I’d held for six years.

All of that landed within a relatively short space of time. Unsurprisingly, my mental health took a hit. I was diagnosed with severe depression, went onto medication, came off it, and eventually had to accept that I needed to be back on it again.

While structure can be helpful, it felt like many of the decisions I was making after coming home, even sensible ones, were adding to the weight I was already carrying. So, perhaps counterintuitively, I decided the best thing I could do was take control where I could.

For me, that meant being my own boss, leaning on my networks, and taking things project by project.

Freedom, With a Price Tag

Going freelance has been incredibly freeing, but it’s also been challenging in ways I didn’t fully anticipate.

In those first few months, I spent around half my savings just to keep myself afloat and make sure the bills were paid. That’s a sobering thing to admit, but it’s also part of the reality of making this kind of shift – you kind of sacrifice a little to come back stronger.

But, at the same time, I’ve been able to expand my network, pick up work, and slowly build momentum. That balance of fear and progress, existing side by side, has become a familiar feeling.

Proudly Said, and the Power of Support

A huge amount of gratitude in this chapter of my life goes to my friends at Nonconform.

They supported me with the branding for my LGBTQ+ podcast, Proudly Said, which quickly made sense as an umbrella for both the podcast and my freelance work in digital communications, particularly social media management and content creation.

Beyond the visuals, they’ve supported me through connections, outsourced work, and, honestly, just being really decent people – I owe more to them than I can put into words.

The Bit That Still Trips Me Up

If I’m honest, my biggest struggle isn’t the creative work… it’s the business side.

• Putting prices on my work.
• Knowing I’m not undercharging or overcharging.
• Being able to confidently explain why my rates are what they are.

I understand the logic, freelancers charge differently because there’s no sick pay, no holiday pay, no pension, and tax still needs to be covered. I know all of this. And yet, I still worry that people won’t want to pay, not because the work isn’t worth it, but because it isn’t as cheap as they’d like.

So far, things have been okay. I’ve had project-based work through Nonconform, picked up bits via Outsourcer10, and kept things ticking along. But I also know I need to keep putting myself out there, and that, in itself, feels daunting, and a bit like a chore.

Not because I don’t want the work.

But because I’m scared of taking on too much, and then I can’t deliver to the best of my ability.

Even when I don’t actually have loads on right now.

Living Inside My Own Head

This is the part that’s hardest to articulate.

I get in my head a lot… and it scares me sometimes.

I’ll wake up thinking, “Today I’m going to do X, Y, and Z.”

Then I sit down and think, “What do I actually need to do right now?”

It’s not that I’m not organised, it’s more that the expectation in my head often outweighs the reality of what’s on the page. I convince myself I should be doing more, even when there isn’t more to do.

And that gap, between expectation and reality, can be exhausting.

Where I Am Now

I don’t have a simple conclusion… Not something that I’m tying up with a bow.

What I do have is a growing sense that this path, messy as it is, might still be the right one for me. Freelancing has given me freedom, flexibility, and an opportunity to reconnect with my creativity. It’s also forced me to confront my fears, my confidence, and my capacity in ways I didn’t expect.

I’m learning. Slowly. Sometimes painfully. Sometimes with real pride.

And for now, that’s enough.

The last few days have been so incredibly intense, and I genuinely don’t know where to start, but…

THANK YOU.

3rd January marks the first anniversary of the passing of our friend, James Lee Williams, known to the world as The Vivienne, and I wanted to do something special to mark the anniversary in a way that keeps their legacy alive.

Like me or loathe me, I’m a bit of a busy body. I can’t help myself when it comes to researching, asking questions, making connections and bringing people together. I knew straight away that I could probably get a number of buildings in Liverpool to light up green… but we wanted this to go further.

Enter Chester.

James lived in Chester, so it felt like a natural extension of the tribute, so a simple message to Warren, Chair of Chester Pride, and David, Chair of Storyhouse Chester, set those wheels in motion.

Manchester was a different story.

With no central point of contact, I reached out to venues individually through Instagram. Some replied, some didn’t. But thanks to contacts at Canal Street Online, the request reached the Village Local Business Association, and from there it was out of my hands.

Once the local press became aware, the tribute started to take on a life of its own.

Gwrych Castle in North Wales – yes, the one from I’m A Celeb! – joined in. Keith from MK Pride got in touch to say Milton Keynes would take part. Brandon from Sparkles in Gran Canaria said they’d be lighting up too.

What started as regional became national, then international, almost overnight.

Suddenly I had interview requests from BBC Radio Merseyside, BBC Radio Manchester, BBC Radio Wales, Hits Radio, BBC North West Tonight and ITV’s Granada Reports. I was terrified.

Friday 2 January looked like this:

• BBC Merseyside at 8am

• Filming with Granada Reports at 1pm

• Driving to Media City

• BBC Radio Manchester at 5pm

• BBC North West Tonight at 6.30pm

Exhausted. 🤣

And it still wasn’t over.

I was up again on Saturday morning for BBC Radio Wales at 7.45am, and Saturday night was the lighting-up tribute itself.

I’d roped in a special someone to walk Liverpool city centre with me, and by the time I got home I’d done over 20,000 steps and was an emotional wreck. Seeing the matinee of Epstein Theatre’s Cinderella didn’t help, particularly when Shania Pain led a small tribute and the stage turned green before curtain call, it properly got me.

All I wanted to do was sleep.

But anyone who knows me knows I couldn’t go to bed without pulling something together to show how powerful the visuals had been. Which, of course, meant a highlight reel.

The whole experience was daunting.

What started as a few questions grew legs very quickly, and my old demons about how others might perceive my motives crept in. But the people closest to me know that I’m a doer – I get an idea, see if it’s possible, and crack on.

That’s what this was.

And in the process, it raised awareness of The House of the Vivienne and the incredible work they are doing through peer support and campaigning.

I made a promise that your legacy would continue.

And that is exactly what I intend to do.

Thank you to Chanel, Cassie and Lee for letting me be the busy body I am; to Bobby for being incredible with everything; and to every venue that came out, lit up and helped make this a beautiful moment.

Earlier this year, thanks to my friends at Nonconform Design, I had the opportunity to support Growing Knowsley’s Future with social media management and content creation – a project focused around community and food justice.

Growing Knowsley’s Future is a programme focused on tackling food inequality, improving access to healthy food, and empowering local people through growing, cooking, and learning. Their work spans community growing spaces, food education, and practical support; all driven by the belief that access to good food should be a right, not a privilege.

A People-First Approach to Content

My role involved managing social media content across the project, with a strong focus on human-centred storytelling. That meant moving beyond static posts and leaning into video, voice, and authenticity.

As part of the work, I filmed pieces to camera with staff members Heidi and Jessica, as well as Lucy Antal, Senior Manager and Lead for Food Justice. These short-form videos gave audiences a direct insight into the people behind the project; alongside their passion, knowledge, and commitment to the communities they support.

Filming in this way helped demystify the work Growing Knowsley’s Future does, making it accessible and relatable.

Blending Archive and New Content

Alongside new filming, I worked with existing footage to build a fuller picture of the programme’s impact. This included combining previously recorded interviews with fresh messaging that adapts to an Instagram audience and styling, to create continuity and reinforce key themes around food justice, sustainability, and community resilience.

Using archive content in this way not only maximised existing assets, but also helped tell a longer-term story, showing how the programme has grown and evolved over time.

You can find these video clips on the Growing Knowsley’s Future Instagram.

Social Media Management and Scheduling

The project also involved planning, scheduling, and managing social media content, ensuring posts were consistent, timely, and aligned with the organisation’s values.

This included:

• Scheduling images and video assets

• Writing clear, accessible captions

• Supporting campaign messaging around food justice and community impact

• Ensuring content reflected both the practical and emotional sides of the work

The aim throughout was to strike a balance between informative content and story-led engagement — helping posts reach new audiences while remaining authentic to the communities being served.

Why This Work Matters

Food justice is not an abstract concept – it’s about dignity, access, and fairness. Supporting organisations like Growing Knowsley’s Future through digital storytelling helps ensure their work is seen, understood, and supported.

By centring real voices, lived experience, and practical action, social media can become a powerful tool for awareness, connection, and change – especially when it’s used with intention.

Looking Ahead

It was a privilege to contribute to a project so clearly rooted in care and community. Supporting Growing Knowsley’s Future reinforced, once again, the importance of using digital platforms to amplify work that genuinely makes a difference.

You can find out more about their work at growingknowsley.org and follow their journey on Instagram @growingknowsleysfuture.

I’ve not long been home from a week in Gran Canaria, a much needed, and some would say well deserved, break. It was definitely the reset button that I didn’t realise how badly I needed.

When a group of friends said, “Come on holiday with us,” it initially felt like a pity invite (ha!). But honestly, in hindsight, it was a lifeline. After the year I’ve had – multiple bereavements, personal upheavals, professional challenges, and a slow crawl through situations that drained every ounce of energy – getting out of Liverpool and into the sun was the first time I truly exhaled in months.

2025 Has Been Heavy

Let’s be honest: this year has been a lot… Emotionally, mentally, and physically.

It’s the kind of year that chips away at your foundations without you noticing until you’re sitting there thinking,

“Why am I this tired?”

I’ve pushed through because, frankly, that’s what we do; in activism, creative work, community work, life. We push. We survive. But surviving is not the same as living, and the longer you ignore that difference, the heavier everything feels.

Time away from BAU reminded me of that.

The Power of Escaping Your Reality (Just for a Bit)

There is something so healing in stepping out of your usual environment, and, in a strange metaphorical sense, changing the backdrop changes the story, even if only for a bit.

It wasn’t about partying (though there was a fair bit of that), nor was it about running away from problems.

It was about breathing different air, seeing and meeting different people, letting my shoulders drop, and, actually, realising how long they’d been permanently raised – which for me means a hideous posture.

Sometimes you need distance to remember who you are outside of all the crazy.

Moderation, Not Martyrdom

One thing that kept hitting me throughout the trip was how often we treat rest like a luxury, not a necessity. Especially those of us who work in community-facing or emotionally heavy roles, and especially those of us who’ve had a year like mine.

We tell ourselves:

“I’ll slow down soon.”

“I just need to finish this project.”

“I’ll rest when things calm down.”

But things rarely calm down and, unfortunately, life doesn’t hand out convenient pause buttons.

Moderation isn’t necessarily about doing less, but about doing enough without destroying yourself in the process.

The Gift of Being Invited

And honestly? One of the kindest parts of the whole thing was being invited. Being included. Being reminded that I have people around me who want me there, even when I’m not at my brightest or most put-together.

Sometimes the most healing thing isn’t sunshine — it’s being wanted, welcomed, and surrounded by people who help carry the weight without making a fuss about it.

Coming Home with Perspective

I didn’t come back from Gran Canaria a different person…

But I did come back lighter. Clearer. More grounded. More aware of how close I’d been to burning out completely.

Rest isn’t indulgent. Escape isn’t avoidance. Balance isn’t weakness. It’s survival, but the healthy kind.

The kind that lets you come back to your life with a steadier heart and a clearer head.

If you needed a sign to take a break, book the flight, step away, say yes to the invitation… this is it.

You deserve the rest you keep postponing.

We recently worked with Non-Conform by providing digital communications support for Collective Encounters, which is an arts charity specialising in theatre for social change.

2025 marks their 21st anniversary in providing various different avenues to challenge, ask questions, and provide opportunities for the community to be artistic (both visually and performative) to combat society’s political inequalities.

For their 21st, they decided to umbrella their events in September and October under the name ‘Radical Retrospectives’, in a call to ‘look back to look forward’, and learn from our past to create a better future.

Over the 2 month project, we managed Collective Encounter’s social media platforms, as well as creating content across their different activities; from Open Space discussions, launches, and exhibition get-ins.

Our content reached tens of thousands of people and generated strong engagement across all channels. Facebook and Instagram saw major growth in reach, views and interactions; with over 100,000 combined views and more than 1,100 engagements during the campaign period. This uplift shows how the Radical Retrospectives story resonated widely, helping to expand Collective Encounters’ visibility and connect new audiences with their work.

You can find more content on their Instagram HERE!

I was recently approached by Paul Williams Ferns, founder of new luxury underwear brand Dante7, to support with behind-the-scenes videography for an upcoming photoshoot marking the brand’s launch.

Setting the Scene

After an initial conversation and creative brief, we explored the narrative behind the brand, the visual identity, the concept, and Paul’s own story. We agreed on a fly-on-the-wall approach to capture candid, authentic moments that would reflect the “everyday man” vibe at the heart of Dante7, while weaving in the darker, mythological undertones inspired by Dante’s Inferno, the Seven Deadly Sins, and the Nine Rings of Hell.

Having known Paul for a number of years, as well as two of the models taking part, made the process more organic. That existing trust helped create a relaxed environment where everyone felt comfortable, even with a camera quietly hovering at unexpected moments.

Capturing the Story

My approach was simple: stay close, stay ready, and keep shooting. The aim was to capture a varied mix of footage throughout the day that could tell a fluid, story-driven narrative.

Alongside the candid content, I filmed one-to-one, interview-style pieces with Paul and each of the models. Building a sense of ease before and during these interviews was key; encouraging them to speak freely, only stepping in when needed to guide things back on track.

Bringing It Together

After the shoot, Paul and I stayed in close contact to make sure the final edit aligned with his vision, balancing creative storytelling with a coherent narrative that felt true to the brand.

The finished video now forms part of Dante7’s Kickstarter campaign, alongside a collection of social-ready clips Paul has produced himself using the same narrative flow.

Paul said, of his time working with us at Proudly Said:

“Launching a new brand is not an easy task, nor is wanting to portray transparency in the behind the scenes & building of it.

I have always loved John’s ability to capture candid moments, personalities, truth & authenticity so it only made sense to grab John and have him be a part of the Dante7 foundation!

Definitely a wise move, as, true to his reputation, he captured just the right moments at just the right times and I believe him to be an integral part of what I know will be a successful brand.”

Below is the final draft of the video, capturing the creative chaos, collaboration, and confidence behind Dante7.

Photographer and Studio: Vessel Studios

Models: Leigh Christie, Jamie McGaghey, Rikkie Kellie & Will Boyce