Finding My Way Back to Teaching

Finding My Way Back to Teaching: Bodywork, Curiosity and Learning Differently

Hello, I’m Sammy.

I recently closed the face-to-face clinic side of my business to focus on health coaching and return to teaching and writing. It feels like an opportunity to bring together the things that have interested me throughout my working life: people, psychology, the body, creativity and the possibilities that open up when we feel supported.

My route here has involved a few changes of direction. There have been wonderful teachers, difficult lessons and moments when something finally made sense. All of them have influenced the way I work with students and clients today.

Finding somewhere to begin

School was difficult for me. Undiagnosed dyslexia was part of the picture, alongside an unsettled home life. Sometimes there was little space left for learning, and I struggled to understand instructions or keep up with what was expected.

Being misunderstood and humiliated made asking for help difficult. I left school with gaps in my education and a fairly settled belief that I wasn’t very clever.

Yet I was curious about people. At 16, I became a live-in nanny, then moved into social care, supporting adults with learning disabilities.

Getting a full-time support worker role changed my life. I had a team who nurtured me, encouraged me through my NVQs and helped me discover that I loved learning things that interested me.

An assessor gave me opportunities to demonstrate my understanding through conversation and observation. She encouraged me to attend adult maths and English classes, where the kindness of the women around me made learning feel surprisingly enjoyable.

Looking back, I can recognise something that psychology calls self-efficacy: gradually developing a belief that we can manage a particular task. For me, that belief grew through small experiences of understanding, useful feedback and people who helped me find a way forward.

Learning through relationships

Later, working in mental health, a close friend and colleague introduced me to psychology and psychotherapeutic support. She was 20 years older than me and shared her knowledge generously. Our conversations sparked interests I am still exploring today.

Over the years, I worked across homelessness services, family intervention and support for people with complex needs. One of my favourite roles was leading groups of 10 adults within a residential service supporting people affected by homelessness, substance use and involvement with probation.

Our weekly programme brought together outdoor pursuits, fitness, cooking, arts, practical projects and work skills. It gave us opportunities to build relationships, explore interests and support people in discovering what they wanted for themselves.

I loved that work. There was room for creativity, shared experiences and moments of achievement that meant something to the individual.

It also taught me to look beyond whether someone appeared “motivated”. What mattered to them? Did they feel capable? Was the opportunity accessible? What else was happening in their life?

These are questions I later encountered in behaviour change theory. They were already present in the work, long before I knew all the terminology.

Returning to education

After retraining in massage and sports therapy, I kept studying. At 40, with four children and a business, I went to university.

I arrived with enthusiasm and experience, alongside difficulties I had spent years finding ways around. That first year was a shock.

Sometimes I understood the subject but couldn’t work out what the assignment question wanted. I could see several possible interpretations and become paralysed before writing anything. Reading, processing and organising my thoughts took hours.

The familiar belief that I wasn’t clever began creeping back in.

My dyslexia was formally identified during that year. In the second year, specialist support helped me untangle instructions and structure my ideas. I am still grateful for that help, and for learning how to research and critique what I read.

Gradually, “I can’t do this” became “I need to approach this differently”.

That distinction matters to me. A difficult experience can influence what we believe about ourselves, but those beliefs can change as we encounter different support, strategies and opportunities.

It is one way I understand a growth mindset: staying open to developing our abilities, while recognising that effort needs useful direction and appropriate support.

The teachers I carry with me

I have continued learning with many exceptional teachers, mentors and colleagues. Some shared remarkable clinical knowledge. Others helped me ask better questions, trusted my judgement or made room for me to think.

Their influence reaches beyond the subjects they taught. I remember their patience, humour, generosity and the feeling that my questions were welcome.

They have helped shape the empathy, compassion and encouragement I bring into my own work. They also remind me how much confidence can grow in a relationship where we feel respected.

Self-determination theory gives language to some of this: autonomy, competence and relatedness. In my own learning, having a voice, beginning to feel capable and finding people I could connect with all made a difference.

These ideas encourage me to consider the learning environment as carefully as the content.

Facilitating curiosity

Although I use the word “teaching”, I often feel more comfortable describing my role as facilitating learning.

I bring knowledge, clinical experience, structure and guidance. Students bring their experiences, observations, questions and ways of understanding the world. What happens between us can be wonderfully creative.

We might find the anatomy together, watch a demonstration, explore an approach with our hands, discuss what we notice and revisit the theory afterwards. I enjoy helping students make connections and develop their own thoughtful ways of working.

My experience of dyslexia makes me attentive to quiet uncertainty, but I can never assume I know what another person needs. A different explanation, clearer instructions or more processing time may help. Asking for clarification should feel ordinary.

There are professional standards and skills to develop. Within that structure, I want there to be room for curiosity, exploration and individual expression.

The person in front of us

My person-centred ethos runs through both the classroom and the treatment room.

In bodywork, sound anatomy, practical skills and clinical reasoning give us a foundation. The client brings knowledge of their own life, priorities and experience.

What matters to them? What are they hoping to return to? What do they notice when we change our touch, pace, positioning or movement?

We assess, apply and reassess, allowing their response to influence what happens next. A plan remains open to what the person needs today.

The same applies when supporting behaviour change. Someone may welcome information or a goal. They may also be overwhelmed and already trying very hard. Listening helps us find a manageable starting point together.

Still learning

I am currently studying positive psychology coaching, continuing to explore motivation, strengths, wellbeing and meaningful change.

I enjoy recognising ideas that connect with earlier experiences, then questioning them more deeply. What helps someone begin? What supports persistence? When does a goal become another burden? How can we recognise strengths without overlooking difficulty?

Being a student again also keeps me aware of how demanding learning can feel, even when we are interested in the subject.

I see learning as a continuing, non-linear journey. We revisit ideas, change our understanding and sometimes need to pause. I certainly don’t know everything, and I hope to remain curious enough to keep discovering where my knowledge needs to grow.

I learn from students and clients too. Their questions, perspectives and responses often invite me to look again.

What I hope to share

Clinical practice and running a business have brought rewarding experiences, mistakes, hard lessons and periods of burnout. They have made me value reflection and knowing when to seek support.

Some of the clients I have found hardest to help have prompted the most learning. They have encouraged me to question assumptions, revisit my knowledge and recognise the limits of what I can offer.

After five years of part-time teaching with Holistic Therapies Academy previously, I’m returning with more experience, more questions and plenty I’m excited to share.

Through massage, sports therapy, bodywork and health practitioner training in Bideford and Plymouth, I hope to offer learning that is practical, compassionate and open to exploration.

If earlier experiences have left you uncertain about education, you are welcome to bring that uncertainty alongside your interest. Your history, questions and observations have a place here.

We can begin with what you bring, and see what grows.

Explore my courses or email sammy@coastaltherapiesdevon.co.uk.