The boy who couldn’t breathe.
The teenager who didn’t know how to feel.
Now the man who creates space for people to do both.

It sounds dramatic, and it is. But as a storyteller, it would be rude not to offer a snippet of my own.

I came into this world not breathing for the first three minutes of my life, still a personal best. It earned me the name Jarrah, after an Australian eucalyptus tree. A quiet wish from my parents that I would keep breathing, keep living, and stand tall.

Growing up, I was a sensitive kid in a world that didn’t leave much room for sensitive boys. I learned early that humour was my way through discomfort, vulnerability, and out of trouble. It worked, until life threw me a few curveballs I couldn’t laugh my way out of, and didn’t yet know how to feel through.

That pain led me on a journey of self discovery, shaped by a confronting experience volunteering overseas, and eventually onto a path working with teenagers and young men. I spent six years with Australia’s leading healthy masculinities charity, The Man Cave, supporting over 6,000 young men and working alongside organisations such as Movember and the Australian Federal Government to break limiting stereotypes around masculinity. It was life changing work, but while it taught me how to articulate feelings and role model emotional honesty, I still struggled to truly feel them myself.

That changed when a breathwork experience cracked me open and released what my body had been holding. It shifted the trajectory of my life and became the bridge into the work I do now.

Today, I create spaces for people to breathe, feel, and come home to themselves, reconnecting with each other and the power that lives in each and every breath.