I didn’t wake up one morning and decide to run attachment training programmes for therapists.
There was no grand plan, no five-year strategy, no sudden urge to create courses and qualifications. What there was, however, was a growing awareness – one that emerged slowly, quietly, and persistently -from sitting with people.
At that time, my working life was full. I was in private practice, working with individuals and couples, and supervising other practitioners. Alongside that, I was working for a children’s charity in London, going into schools to support teachers, senior leadership teams, and students around mental health – and in particular, attachment.
Different settings. Different roles. Different ages. And yet, the same themes kept appearing.
Whether I was sitting with a couple in distress, a supervisee questioning themselves, a teacher struggling with a child’s behaviour, or a young person acting out something they couldn’t yet put into words, I kept noticing the same quiet ache appearing again and again.
Seeing the Same Pattern, Again and Again
In private practice, I worked with a wide mix of presentations: anxiety, depression, trauma, relationship distress, life transitions. On the surface, the stories looked different. But underneath, what was going on was often strikingly similar. Attachment wounds and Adapted defences. Ways of being that once made sense -and were now causing pain.
It was during this period that I realised I had developed what I often describe as my “attachment goggles”. Once you start looking through an attachment lens, it’s very hard to stop.
As Bowlby so beautifully articulated, attachment gives us a way of making sense of distress – of understanding behaviour not as pathology, but as adaptation. To be able to pinpoint distress and gently deconstruct it in a safe, relational way has been one of the greatest privileges of my working life. I have watched so many people benefit from being understood through this lens -often for the first time.
“The Hole in the Doughnut”
For some, it looked like deep sadness – a sense of something missing that could never quite be named. I often describe it as “the hole in the doughnut”: no matter how much is added around the edges – success, relationships, busyness – the centre still feels empty.
For others, it appeared as relentless self-doubt, over-responsibility, or a constant fear of getting it wrong. Externally, you might think nothing was amiss. Internally, there was exhaustion, shame, or a feeling of never being quite enough.
And sometimes, the mismatch between the inner and outer worlds was stark. High functioning on the outside; coping strategies quietly taking over behind the scenes. Overworking. Drinking. Addictions – not just to substances, but to social media, sex, busyness, anything that might take the edge off what couldn’t yet be felt.
I saw this not only in clients, but also in practitioners. Good therapists.
Thoughtful therapists. Ethical therapists. Carrying far more than they realised.
Pressure, Permission, and “Good Enough”
Over time, I began to see how much pressure therapists put on themselves. Pressure to get it right. Pressure to do a good job. Pressure to offer “value for money”. Pressure to keep up – with the latest training, the newest language, the current buzzwords.
Training culture doesn’t always help with this. There can be an unspoken message that if you just do one more course, you’ll finally feel confident. And while I value ongoing learning deeply, I’m also fond of the biblical phrase: “There is nothing new under the sun.” Much of what is presented as innovation is often something well-established, repackaged and recycled.
Professional bodies add another layer. Frameworks like SCoPEd bring clarity and structure, but they can also increase anxiety – particularly when practitioners already feel stretched.
And yes, I felt that pressure myself earlier in my career. Constantly. The worry about enquiries, about recommendations, about whether I was doing enough or being enough. And yet, my experience in private practice – and later as a supervisor -has been that when you truly open yourself up to doing the work, the clients you can help tend to find you. I know that can’t be quantified or manualised, but it has been my lived experience.
What I wish I’d been given sooner was permission. Permission to do the best I could. Permission to be human. Permission to be “good enough”, in the Winnicottian sense – something we actively encourage our students to reflect on, especially when they’re writing assignments.
Therapists don’t need more pressure. They need more permission to understand themselves.
When Attachment Became Personal
Attachment theory stopped being merely “interesting” for me during my BA degree, when I began researching attachment and postnatal depression. Something clicked. The theory came alive – not just intellectually, but emotionally.
From there, I went on to complete a three-year Level 7 training with Linda Cundy.
That experience was transformative, and in many ways, it is the reason our Level 5 exists today. When Linda later stopped offering the Level 7, I noticed how quickly attachment training options began to shrink – particularly outside of London. If you lived near the Bowlby Centre or similar providers, there were opportunities. If you didn’t, options were limited.
Alongside the professional learning, I also went on a very personal quest: to understand my own story, my own trauma, and my own adaptations. Attachment gave me something no other model quite had.
Night goggles
A way of seeing through the fog. Of noticing the defences beneath the narrative.
Of hearing the words beneath the words.
The Birth of Level 5
Then COVID happened. The work I was doing for the children’s charity had to move online, and from there I began running Mental Health First Aid England training for organisations. Slowly – and I do mean slowly -an idea began to percolate.
What if I could create attachment training programmes for therapists online, that truly helped them understand attachment? What if I could offer depth, accessibility, and rigour -without requiring people to live in or near London?
I had my wobbles, of course. Plenty of them. But I kept returning to a phrase from Field of Dreams: “If you build it, they will come.”
And so, with a mixture of passion, terror, and deep belief in the work, I said yes.
What I Was Determined to Protect
From the outset, there were non-negotiables. Ethical responsibility.
High standards. Accountability. A genuine respect for the profession.
I care deeply about being a therapist, and about the future of our field. I wanted the training to mean something. Partnering with CPCAB has been an incredible journey – one I couldn’t have done without their support, particularly Miki, whose belief and guidance are genuinely the reason these courses exist.
We are currently applying for BACP accreditation for the Level 5 this year, with Level 7 to follow. But accreditation aside, what mattered most to me was that students didn’t just learn theory – they understood what it meant in the therapy room.
Not just attachment as a concept. But attachment as a lived, relational, moment-by-moment experience.
Who This Is Really For
When someone reads this and thinks, “She’s talking to me,” it’s usually a therapist who wants more clarity and depth – who senses that what they currently have doesn’t quite allow them to understand their clients as fully as they’d like.
Often they’re at Level 4 or 5, considering private practice or accreditation. Sometimes they’re more experienced, returning to learning because something feels unfinished. They often doubt their academic ability. They worry about finances. They fear they might not be “clever enough”. And yet, they are usually deeply empathic, thoughtful, and committed to doing good work.
Why I Keep Saying Yes
What keeps me committed – even when the work is demanding – is the feedback. The joy of watching people grow. The emails that say, “This has changed how I practise.” The quiet confidence that emerges when someone finally understands themselves.
What still matters enough that I keep saying yes is healing – for practitioners, and for the clients they serve.
And if I zoom out, what I hope this training contributes to the profession as a whole is this: the continued development of high-quality, robust, ethical therapists who are grounded not just in technique, but in understanding.
These attachment training programmes for therapists were never about producing perfect therapists. But about growing grounded, reflective, relational practitioners – the kind clients feel safe with before a word is even spoken. And if you’re drawn to Level 5 or Level 7, it’s usually not accidental.
Something in you already knows this work matters!
