A life spent learning how to fight — and how to stop fighting myself.

I grew up quiet. Shy. The kid who walked with his head down.
People see the man I became — the England international karate competitor, the nightclub bouncer, the instructor teaching thousands how to protect themselves — and they assume I was always confident.

The truth is the opposite.

My entire life has been a battle with one opponent: myself.

 

Where it really began

As a young boy, fear shaped everything.
Fear of being picked on.
Fear of speaking up.
Fear of not being good enough.

Karate didn’t start as a passion — it started as survival.
I needed a way to build a spine. To quiet the voice that kept telling me I wasn’t enough.

But even when I became one of the best competitors in the country, something unexpected happened:

Winning medals didn’t silence the fear.
It just gave it somewhere new to hide.

 

The doors

When I became a nightclub bouncer, real life hit me harder than any punch I ever took in competition.

There are no referees in the street.
No rules.
No controlled environments.
Just adrenaline, instinct, and the choices you make in a split second.

I saw the best and worst of people.
I saw innocence turn to violence in seconds.
And I learned very quickly that most confrontations don’t come from danger — they come from fear, ego, embarrassment, and the need to “save face.”

Working the doors taught me more about human nature than any dojo ever could.

What I didn’t expect was how much those nights would force me to confront my own demons — my reactions, my triggers, and the parts of me I never wanted to admit existed.

 

The real fight wasn’t outside

I spent years battling drunk men, angry men, scared men — but the hardest fight of my life was the one happening inside my head.

I realised that:

• Confidence is not aggression.

• Strength is not loud.

• Power is not ego.

• And real protection starts long before any punch is thrown.

The more I understood myself, the more I understood violence — and how to prevent it.

 

Fighting With Myself

Everything I teach today, everything I write, and everything I stand for comes back to this simple truth:

You cannot protect yourself until you understand yourself.

My book, Fighting With Myself, isn’t just a story about violence.
It’s a story about fear, vulnerability, identity, and the internal transformation every person goes through — especially men who were taught to stay silent.

I’ve lived through adrenaline, confrontation, mistakes, victories, near misses, and dark moments I never thought I’d speak about.

But every chapter of my life leads back to one lesson:

You become stronger the moment you stop running from your own reflection.

 

The mission now

Today, whether I’m teaching self-protection, speaking at events, coaching adults who’ve lost their confidence, or working behind the scenes on new creative projects, my mission is simple:

To help people avoid the fights they don’t need — and win the ones they can’t avoid.

This is my story.
Not the polished version.
The real one.

A journey from fear…
to confidence…
to control…
to understanding…
and now — to helping others break the cycle.

If you see any part of yourself in this story, you’re not alone.
And you’re not broken.
You’re just fighting with yourself.
Like I did.
Like we all do.

​