It started with a question I couldn’t put down: why don’t we see ourselves in the stories of our past? Why, out of every mythology in every corner of the world, do women keep showing up as the same things - the monster, the temptress, the wife? Where where the witches who weren’t wicked? The women who slayed the dragon themselves? The goddesses that raged and were loved for it? As a mixed race woman, I also wanted to uncover stories that reflected my own ethnicity, and a more balanced view of I was- who we all are.

So I got on my own personal mission…

That question wasn’t academic at first. It was personal. I was trying to understand myself - my own power, my own rage, my own shape, and I kept finding fragments of it in these buried women, once I went looking properly. That’s when I understood what myth actually is. Not decoration. Not fairy tale. It is really a way of making sense of exactly the things we still don’t have language for: power, grief, desire, transformation. It is a path back to who we really are before we were told who to be. What more powerful gift can the past bring us?

And I think we need this now more than ever. We’re living in a moment that feels disillusioned, disconnected, unanchored; where so many of us are quietly asking who am I, really, underneath everything I was told to be. Myth doesn’t answer that question for you. But it does something better: it gives you a way back. A homing beacon, calling you toward the parts of yourself that were always there, waiting to be recognised.

Let me show you how.