Dear reader, I have just about recovered from last week’s article. I did not anticipate the unique anxiety that would arise when new subscribers signed up only to find a graphic tale involving my bowels as the most recent post. This week, there’s nothing to squirm about. In fact, I’m quite excited as my book hits shelves next week. NEXT WEEK! That’s a big moment, and one I don’t know how to feel about yet. It’s strange writing and working in solitary confinement for over a year and then having to emerge from your goblin cave and share it with the world. I quite liked it, tucked away in there; it was cosy and there was nobody but me and the belief that maybe I was writing something that would make a difference. Now, it’s time to see if it does.
I finally got to see the finished product last week. I went to the Gill warehouse where I signed 400 copies. Somehow, my hand is still attached to my wrist. And oh, she’s beautiful, if I do say so myself.
And for the first time, to launch the book (my fourth book to date) I am putting on a gorgeous, cosy, intimate event. And if you’re able to get to Dublin on April 25th, I’d love to see you there. It’s going to be very straight forward: an anxiety-soothing pilates class with the wonderful Lorna O’Shea, followed by a very relaxed talk on anxiety and the roadmap on which the book is centred, hosted by my friend and fellow Substacker Aisling Keenan, and featuring yours truly. Tickets include a copy of the book and a load of goodies worth quite a bit, including the really wonderful Relax supplements from Fabu which themselves are €30 a bottle. And to make it even more personal and low-key (and also, to be honest, to save on extortionate catering fees) my lovely mammy is coming up from Dingle to bake a rake of nutritious and virtuous snacks and treats that I promise will not taste like grass and misery. I had a DM from someone asking if it would be bananas to attend such an event on her own. Absolutely not, it’s the perfect calming event to come to on your own but equally as enjoyable with a friend. There is no obligation to mingle, or even get involved. I won’t be enforcing participation in vulnerable anxiety chats. That’s what I’m there for. But equally, whoever wants to share and throw in their two cents is more than welcome to! So, will you come? I hope so. Tickets and details here. There will only be 25 spaces so move fast if you’re keen!
Before the madness kicks off (which will be a full-on juggle as I manage my son’s needs while trying my best to hit the ground running with media appearances) I wanted to share an excerpt, just for you. This is a piece on self-compassionate accountability - what it is, why it’s the secret to moving forward when you get to a place of having overcome the severity of anxiety that may have led you to my book in the first place. This appears towards the end of the book. I hope you enjoy it.
Self-compassionate Accountability
You’ve arrived at the final stop on the roadmap. But what about the destination? How will you know when you’re there? And – dare I ask – are we there yet? Don’t panic if you’re reading this while still feeling the full brunt of anxiety. You are not expected to be anxiety free by the end of a book. That would be like trying to heal a broken leg by reading about physiotherapy – it misunderstands what anxiety is and where it lives. Anxiety isn’t resolved through insight alone. It takes root in the body, shaped by time, repetition and survival. So it makes perfect sense that unwinding it takes time too.
The goal here has never been to ‘fix’ you or eliminate all anxious feelings. It’s been about guiding you back to yourself – out of the overwhelm and into clarity. And if you’ve worked through the roadmap gently, at your own pace, you’ve likely arrived at a place where your relationship with anxiety looks and feels very different.
If I’ve done my job, you now have a deeper understanding of anxiety – not just as a concept, but as a personal pattern. You’ve stopped trying to justify your experience to others. You’ve started turning inwards with curiosity and compassion. You know your nervous system now – not vaguely or theoretically, but like someone you’ve travelled with for years. You know its quirks, its limits and its early warning signs. And just as important, you’ve begun to recognise what serves you and what doesn’t. You know the difference between your personality and your fear, between what genuinely goes against your values and what’s just plain anxiety. My hope is that this knowledge has brought a kind of peace – not the entire absence of anxiety, but the end of its control over you. And going forward, let me reassure you: You’re in the driving seat now.
Before we part ways, we need to talk about what comes next. What it looks like to carry this work forward, without turning it into another pressure. How to stay grounded in your progress, even when anxiety reappears. What to do when you wobble or wonder if you’re ‘back at square one’ (spoiler: you’re not).
I want to leave you with something both reassuring and useful: an introduction to self-compassionate accountability, a gentle guide to troubleshooting those inevitable moments when anxiety resurfaces. No rigid protocols – just a few check-in questions, a perspective shift around what success really looks like, and a necessary reminder about radical acceptance.
As much as I wish I could say otherwise (and plenty of charlatans will), you will have moments – days, even weeks – where it feels like you’ve gone backwards. But you know enough about your nervous system now to understand that it’s not a dormant system. It’s alive, responsive and always adapting to what life throws your way.
I wish someone had told me this plainly, because when I hit those speedbumps early on, I made far more out of them than I needed to. I panicked. I blamed myself. And I forgot what I knew.
So let me say it clearly:
Just because you feel it again doesn’t mean you’re failing.
There’s no winning or losing here. You cannot go all the way back to the beginning, because you’re not the same person any more. You’re not operating with the same understanding or tools. If anxiety returns, there’s a reason. It’s energy passing through. And as surely as it arrives, it will dissipate.
You know what to do now.
Success doesn’t mean never feeling anxiety again. It means recognising it when it comes, responding to it with the tools you’ve gathered, and allowing it to soften in your presence.
Self-compassion is what carried you through this roadmap. It got you through the sharper turns and tougher climbs – those moments when stopping altogether felt easier than inching forward. But self-compassionate accountability is what will carry you from here.
Self-compassionate accountability is the bridge between kindness and consistency. Between ‘I understand why this is hard’ and ‘I’m still going to show up for myself anyway’. Between self-soothing and self-stewarding.
It doesn’t mean pushing through at all costs – the cost is your wellbeing, and that’s something you’re never going to compromise again. It doesn’t mean pretending you’re fine when you’re not. It means meeting yourself with the same patience and encouragement you’d offer someone you love – while still holding yourself to the kind of loving followthrough that real growth requires.
I first came across this idea in conversation with Kimberley Quinlan, a US-based CBT therapist who helped me untangle compassion from indulgence. We talked about the trap so many anxious people fall into: believing that if something feels hard, it must be wrong. But if we only ever led with what anxiety wanted, we’d choose safety over expansion every time. And no real healing could happen.
‘Self-compassion doesn’t mean we get to just lie in bed forever,’ Kimberley explains. ‘It means we get to recognise how hard something is – and move forward gently.’ That’s the heart of self-compassionate accountability. It’s not fluffy. It’s not ‘do whatever feels good’. It’s not perfection. It’s not discipline-as-punishment. It’s structure that feels supportive, not shaming. It’s showing up even when you’re not ready – and saying, ‘I’m not ready, but I’m willing.’ That’s enough. It’s about having your own back.
Because healing isn’t linear. You will wobble. You will loop back. But accountability isn’t there to scold you – it’s there to catch you with a soft place to land, and to remind you of the next small step forward. If the anxious part of you is a scared child, self-compassionate accountability is the adult who kneels beside them and says: ‘I see you. I know this is hard. Let’s do the next bit together.’
That’s the voice you’re practising now. And it matters more than the one that got you off track in the first place. Your job going forward isn’t to ‘get it right’ every time. It’s to be gently committed. To choose consistency over intensity. Kindness over perfection. And to keep coming home to the tools, the mindset and the version of yourself you’ve been slowly, steadily returning to throughout this book.
If you’d like to buy the book, you can get it here and it will be widely available from April 16th. Thanks for your support.

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