“I would never dare get into cold water!”
I used to say this with complete sincerity. “This is just who I am!”
I was never someone who chose to partake in anything uncomfortable. Life already felt like enough.
I was a single mum, every day felt long, we had a tight budget and even tighter schedules between school, swimming and everything else. I often felt an exhaustion where my shoulders were tight up to my ears before I’d even got out of bed.
Why would I voluntarily add anything so hard?
Cold water swimming was unnecessary to me, I thought it was self-inflicted suffering. Not for me.
I believed I was someone who avoided difficulty unless I had no choice. I could deal with the dentist get my tax return sorted, but stepping into freezing sea water for fun was a step too far.
But if I’m going to be completely honest, I look back and I don’t think it was about the temperature, it was about my identity. I thought I was limited.
I thought I was someone who had already used up their resilience on getting through everyday life. I’d convinced myself that type of strength was for other people – not me.
Until one day, I stood on those pebbles. The wind rushing through my coat, the sea was flat and my toes already felt numb!
I wanted to turn around, but as I took that first step, I knew it was meaningful.
The second step made my breath disappear and by the time the water got up my body, my whole internal monologue was screaming “get out, this was a mistake!”
And then? Stillness.
Not because it got warmer but because I stopped fighting it.
I can’t explain this without sounding dramatic but it felt like my body did a system reboot. Like someone had shaken all the busy noise out of me. The chatter quietened and it felt like the low-level stress I’d felt for years had dialled all the way down.
That first time, I remember feeling powerful.
Absolutely freezing! But powerful.
I realised I was stronger than the story that I had been playing to myself. That “never” to cold swimming had been a layer of armour, it was a way to protect the version of myself who thought she was too stretched.
And today? I swim in winter: Christmas Eve swims have been a tradition in our household! I seek out the discomfort, not because I love being cold but because I love the HIGH that comes on the other side.
And the thing about cold water is you don’t have to do it. But when you choose to do it, it stops being a punishment and becomes a possibility…
Which is why I’ve booked a sauna to put on the wild swimming lake at my Finding Peace: Nervous System Reset Yoga Retreat on 15–17 May 2026.
It’s not for anyone to prove anything, but it’s so I can give you with the opportunity to feel your body truly relaxing.
We’ll come together on this vast, private country estate with no traffic noise, no notifications on your phone, just us coming together in peace and stillness.
And yes, a wood-fired sauna besides the wild swimming lake – and cold water if you fancy it (both are completely optional!)
Don’t do it because you feel like you should, but if you’ve read this far you’re curious about what you’ll find on the other side of the discomfort.
Here’s what the weekend will look like:
Morning light flooding into the converted barn as we practice Vinyasa flow yoga together
Restorative yoga in the evening so wrapped up in blankets knowing a delicious vegan feast is being cooked in the main house
Sound healing with the gong and crystal bowls to help bring you back into coherence
That vegan feast laid out on a long table, it’s always a surprise from our retreat chef but it’s always delicious.
Phones switched off, it’s an unhurried schedule. There’s space to walk the land or find a spot under a tree without anyone even noticing.
If you’re tired of survival mode, or just need a break, this weekend is designed to interrupt the pattern and bring you closer to an equilibrium.
The deposit is £250 with balances due in March, and there are limited accomodation options available so please contact me if you have any questions.