How it all began (and where I am now)

‘How have the girls been?’ ‘Fine, fine’ I replied noticing a flash of sympathy pass my friend’s eyes as she picked up her girls from a playdate at my house.

I knew why she looked at me with such pity. I was wearing saggy, stained yoga bottoms, my partner’s old t-shirt and my greasy hair slicked back in a topknot – and not the fashionable way. I hadn’t stepped foot in the hairdressers in months, perhaps a year, and my face hadn’t seen a scrap of makeup in months. Recently I’d even been out for a pub meal with a friend without makeup, something unfathomable pre-kids.

Kids changed so much more than just my body. The whole experience had also taken a toll on my confidence. Pre-kids I’d enjoyed a moderately successful career in the city. Immigrating to London from Australia late in 2000 I’d worked so hard to be noticed for the potential I believed I had. But I felt the process was too slow and the promotions and recognition I craved not fast enough.

I persisted until late 2006 when I decided that I was never going to get anywhere in the corporate world, I had to be my own boss. My idea was Brittique, an online retailer for up and coming British designers. For 12 months I worked tirelessly on what was essentially a flawed business model. Finally in May 2007 when my partner, Michael, was transferred to New York there was no way I could continue with a British focussed business while in a different time zone. Then I found out, to my utter delight, that I was pregnant.

Having my first child was the happiest day of my life. I enjoyed the tight knit group of “mom” friends I made in New York. Other educated women, mostly lawyers, who chose to leave work rather than take the mandated 12 weeks of maternity leave. That first summer spent in the pristine parks of a surprisingly green New York City was one of the best I’ve had.

Not the type to sit and play with the baby all day, after 6 months, I confess, I was bored. I missed the stimulation of working and earning my own money. I took up a contract in the equity research department at Goldman Sachs on Wall Street.

Working on Wall Street was a dream come true. Especially a firm like Goldman Sachs. I felt like I’d instantly entered this private club and that I’d arrived at the pinnacle of my career. However my first day at work was 15 September 2008 the day Lehman Brothers collapsed triggering the Global Financial Crisis.

Understandably with the financial markets in turmoil no one had time to integrate a new recruit. I spent a couple of months watching the events unfold on CNN and trying to make myself useful. Hardly the fulfilment of my dream. As the markets crumbled Michael told me we needed to move back to London as it was more stable. At the same time I discovered, once again to my delight, that I was expecting baby two.

After my stint back in banking it was clear to me that I could never go back to a corporate career. My small taste of entrepreneurship had whet my appetite. I needed to be my own boss. The corporate world, particularly banking, while a fast paced environment, moved too slowly for me. With the financial world in turmoil a second tier analyst like me wouldn’t be able to secure a top rate job. It was time that I looked at other career options. But first, I had two babies to raise and a partner who worked 18 hours a day seven days a week. It took years and a lot of trial and error to find my true niche.

From 2009 until 2016 things did go well. Almost too well. I became a sought after speaker, my first book was published, I’d set the UK record for the most money via property crowdfunding. My days were spent with my children, working out, eating well and attending to my many property projects and other interests. Life really was good.

And then it wasn’t. My castle in the sky came crashing down. Hard. All around me. Over the course of two years my marriage broke down, my investments and property projects started showing serious issues and I lost most of those I called friends. The phone stopped. Email stopped. My reputation was irreparably damaged. Why? Because my property projects had gone wrong.

As with every situation hindsight gives such clarity. There are things I should have done. Plimsoll lines should have been in place. I misplaced my trust. And that rests squarely on me.

What this means, sadly, is that I’ll never be the same. I’ll never have the same innocent naivety as before. There will always be the hardened scar where there was a softness. It’s changed my view of people and what they’re capable of doing to those they call friends and partners.

Coming out the other side now a new person with renewed vigour and enthusiasm once again I’ve often contemplated my next career. I’ve applied and been accepted in a psychology masters programme at a good university but I deferred. I considered dusting off my financial advisory qualifications too. But ultimately the pulling power of property is too strong. I feel myself drawn being drawn in again. Only different.

You may be thinking that we’re in the wrong stage of the cycle to start back into property. I agree. However it is just that, a cycle. The nature of cyclical markets is that at some stage along that cycle it will be the right time. I can prepare to invest again but this time from a position of knowledge, experience and, dare I say, having had a large dose of humility.