
I trained at the University of Otago and lived at Knox College — years shaped by lectures, flatting and fierce inter-college rivalry.
Back then, coping meant surviving exams and Otago weather. Midlife exhaustion was something that happened to other people.
As a psychiatrist, I hear people say they’re "coping" every day. They’re juggling work, family, ageing parents and health changes — functioning on the outside, but often running on fumes underneath.
"I’m coping" sounds reassuring. But often it means, "I’m getting through — not thriving."
On stage, I explore the absurdity of modern expectations — the pressure to manage everything while appearing calm and capable — and the relief that comes from realising you’re not alone.
Returning to Dunedin feels like coming full circle. This city shaped my beginnings.
If you’re "just coping", you’re not failing. You’re human.













