Twenty-five years across sector industries — I have worked with and known CEOs across retail, media, sales, events, promotions and entertainment; politicians; C-suite executives in global organisations; artists at every stage of their career; not as a coach, but as someone inside those worlds, now recognising the wisdom in who they are, their paths, how they work, what they ask of people, what people navigate and hold together quietly alongside everything else.

In every industry and at every level, even in just passing social conversations, the same human experiences kept showing up, alongside my own.

People at a turning point. People ready to move. People sitting with something they hadn’t yet found the words for. Different rooms, different contexts — from boardrooms to boogying dance floors — but the same human thread running through all of it.

I understand those experiences because I have lived them. The many guises of actual burnout — included. The actual turning points — included. The process of making something purposeful from all of it — included. It is the inclusion of my own, and the people I have had the pleasure and honor to sit with in the past and those now, which is what informs my practice today — and is what makes those frameworks living practice rather than just classroom knowledge for me.

My cross-sector background gives me range. My own journey and education gives me depth, grace and grit. But the common thread is never the industry, the money, the title. The hardest or most successful moments. It’s the moment someone — or a business — decides to stop performing their life and start building it — with real intention and a clear direction and goals. That’s the moment we all rise. That’s what Time for U is built around.

My mother would say I was born a nurturer. Family members have a running joke that no matter what the situation, Sheona would have something for it — a book she’d read, something she’d tried, a contraption she’d tracked down, a remedy she’d quietly tucked into her bag just in case. Friends threatened to rebrand me as the next Mrs Hinch — not for the cleaning, but for the conviction that the right thing, in the right moment, genuinely helps.

My mum called it being observant. I just thought I was paying attention.

My years as an event manager brought all of it together. Making sure every person had exactly what they needed on one of the most significant days of their life — that was never just logistics. It was reading the room, anticipating the unspoken, and showing up fully prepared for whatever the day might ask. I didn’t know it yet, but I was already doing the work.

Living with fibromyalgia and endometriosis has shaped this practice in ways I could not have anticipated and would not trade. Chronic pain has its own particular rhythm — the good days, the harder ones, and the ones where the body simply calls time. When burnout arrived — and it did, fully and without apology — therapy, healing, learning, reading and time became the only things left on the agenda. Even those have been a struggle.

When I started to come back to myself, I knew two things. That I wanted to help people navigate their changes — safely, and without harm to my wellbeing or theirs. And that the conditions I live with are not a footnote to this practice. They are part of its foundation. They are why I understand what it means to keep going. And why I never underestimate what that takes.

Part of what I offer is the ability to name what is actually happening, ethically and clearly, without euphemism — and to point toward the right support, whether that is the work we do together, signposting toward an accredited clinical practitioner, or both running alongside each other. My services may be broad my client intake isn’t.

Clarity is the kindest thing I can offer anyone. The theory informed it. The life tested it.

You may just as easily find me in a boardroom as you might boogying on a dance floor — returning, slowly and intentionally, to where it all began. Movement and music, in its own way, has become part of the practice again. Not as it was, but as I am now. The goal quietly waiting in the wings — a return to pointe shoes, in time.

Purpose is the thread. The coaching and mentoring are the crafts. The context is whatever brings you here.

I haven’t always got it right. I won’t in the future — who does? I make choices I later question. I have relationships I’ve had to repair, decisions I’ve had to sit with, and moments where the gap between what I know and what I do has been quietly humbling. That’s not a confession. It’s the point. The work I do with others is the same work I do on myself — ongoing, honest, never finished. Reflective practice is not a box I tick. It is how I show up. It is what the EMCC requires of me, what supervision holds me to, and what I believe every person I work with deserves.

My practice and lived experience across organisational, relational and human contexts is held within a rigorous, internationally recognised ethical and professional training and frameworks.

Developing the judgement to know which tool, when, and how to hold it with care — that comes from the ILM Level 5 coaching and mentoring framework, its ethics and professional standards. My BACP counselling skills training gave it psychological literacy — and the clarity to know when someone needs something beyond what coaching can offer. The EMCC gave it professional boundaries. Intentional Peer Support Core Training underpins my approach to human connection. And life gave it everything else.

This combination is what keeps clients, individuals, and organisations safe. They are why TFU allows me to work with depth, discernment, congruency, ethical responsibility, and can go to the places this work sometimes needs to go, without operating beyond my limits of proficiency.