More About How I Work
If you want a bigger and better sense of what happens when we work together, this is the place. What follows is a fuller picture of my approach: how I listen, how I adapt, and what the work can look like in practice.
Slowing down and paying attention
In everyday life it's easy to keep moving: to cope, to push through, to stay busy enough not to stop and look at what's actually going on. Part of what we do together is slow that down. Not to dwell, and not to make things harder than they need to be, but because that's often where things start to make sense.
Our conversations are guided by curiosity. I listen closely to what you say, but also to what isn't quite being said: the pauses, shifts in energy, and moments where something feels stuck, unclear, or unexpectedly alive. I also pay attention to the body. Sometimes what's difficult to put into words shows up physically first: a tightness, a shift in posture, a sense of something contracting or opening. Noticing these things together, what's being said, what's being felt, and what the body is doing, can open up a different and often richer understanding of what's going on. This is sometimes called somatic work, and it's something I've trained in specifically.
How we work together

No two people are the same, and no two therapeutic relationships are the same either. Some people want space to think out loud and let things unfold gradually. Others want someone who will engage more actively and not let things slide past unchallenged. Most people want something in between, and that can shift from session to session.
I pay close attention to how you're engaging and adapt accordingly. I'm not a passive presence: I bring my observations, my curiosity, and sometimes a sense of humour. However, I won't tell you what to think or who to be.
Some of what we do will be exploratory: following what feels significant, noticing patterns, making connections that haven't been visible before. This kind of work can take time, and that's fine. Some things become clearer gradually rather than being forced.
At other times, particularly when thinking in circles has become its own kind of stuck, I might offer a more direct approach. That might mean asking a question that cuts through a little, pointing to something that keeps being stepped over, or naming something that seems important but hasn't quite been put into words yet. It might also mean suggesting a more active way of working. Here are some examples of what that can look like:
- Sometimes I might invite you to have a conversation: with someone from your life, or with a different part of yourself. Doing this rather than just talking about it can shift something that words alone don't always reach.
- Occasionally we might try something more physical: walking different possible paths forward, pausing at different points to notice what comes up in your thoughts and body. Moving through something literally can sometimes make it easier to feel the difference between options.
- Sometimes it helps to get clearer on what actually matters to you. A simple exercise around your core values can shed unexpected light on a conflict or decision that's felt difficult to resolve.
Whatever approach we use, it will always be offered as a suggestion rather than a direction. What we explore, and how, is always your call.
When thinking isn't enough
Many of the people I work with are good at thinking. Really good, in fact. They've analysed the situation, considered it from every angle, talked it through with people they trust, and probably arrived at a pretty accurate understanding of what's going on. And yet something hasn't shifted.
That's not a failure of intelligence or effort. It's more that some things don't respond to thinking alone. Understanding something in your head and actually feeling it differently are two separate experiences, and the gap between them is often where people get stuck.
Part of what the work does is help bridge that gap: not by abandoning the thinking, which is often genuinely useful, but by bringing other things alongside it. Noticing what's happening in the body. Sitting with something rather than immediately reaching for an explanation. Trying something rather than just considering it. For many people, this opens up a different kind of understanding: one that feels more grounded, more real, and more likely to actually change something.
Working with the body
For some people, difficult past experiences continue to affect them in ways that feel physical as much as emotional: a tightness, a sense of dread, a body that braces or shuts down before the mind has even caught up. When that's relevant, I may suggest a particular kind of work that approaches those experiences gently and gradually.
Rather than diving into a difficult memory directly, we start by finding something that brings a sense of steadiness: a feeling, an image, or simply the sense of being safely grounded in the present. This becomes an anchor. From there, we touch into the difficult material very briefly, just enough to notice what starts to happen, before returning to that steadiness. We move back and forth between the two, carefully and at your pace.
What this does, over time, is gradually teach the nervous system that it can approach difficult territory without being overwhelmed by it. The memory doesn't disappear, but its grip tends to loosen. This draws on my specific training in somatic approaches to trauma.
Trauma and trauma-informed work
Trauma is our nervous system being overwhelmed by one or more events that we perceive as threatening. It leaves an imprint: not always as a clear memory, but as a way of responding to the present as though the past is still happening.
Being trauma-informed doesn't mean every session is about trauma, or that you need to identify as someone who has experienced it. It means working from an understanding that how you respond to things today has been shaped by what you've been through in the past. This could be a specific event or an accumulation of experiences that left their mark.
Responses like anxiety, reactivity and difficulty trusting are ways of coping that, in the past, developed to try and keep you safe. Our bodies and brains are good at that!
These aren't treated as problems to solve. Instead, together, we explore them with curiosity, to understand why they came about and what they were trying to protect. Taking this approach, combined with other techniques, tends to create more lasting change.
It also means the pace matters. Trauma-informed work doesn't push faster than your nervous system can handle.
When the work becomes more practical
Sometimes what someone needs isn't more exploration but a clearer way forward. If you're facing a decision, navigating a significant change, or trying to work out what to do next, we can spend time on that directly: thinking things through, looking at options, or finding concrete ways to move forward.
This is where my background as a qualified coach becomes relevant. Coaching and therapy aren't the same thing, and I don't blur the two, but there are times when being able to draw on both within the same relationship is genuinely useful. Rather than reaching a point in therapy where you feel ready to act and then having to find someone else to help you do that, we can make that shift together, when it feels right, and come back to the deeper work when that's what's needed.
Nothing about this is prescribed or planned in advance. Some people never need this more practical dimension at all. Others find it becomes important at a particular point in the work. Either way, it's there if it's useful.
The approaches I draw on
My training is rooted in the humanistic and relational tradition, and integrative in nature, which means I draw on a range of approaches rather than following a single model. The main ones include Person-Centred therapy, Gestalt, Transactional Analysis, Formative Psychology, and Existential therapy, alongside Somatic therapy for trauma and body-based approaches. In practice, I don't apply these as separate techniques: they inform how I listen, what I notice, and how I respond, with the person in front of me always taking precedence over any particular method.
The practical details
Sessions last 50 minutes and usually take place weekly, though we can talk about what rhythm works best for you.
I work in person at five locations across London and Surrey:
- HOMA Therapy Practice, Islington
- The Practice Rooms, Angel
- The Practice Rooms, Soho
- City of London Therapy Centre, Bunhill
- Wellshare Rooms, Guildford, Surrey
I also offer sessions online via Zoom on Tuesdays.
My fee is £75 per session. I also offer some lower-cost sessions to make therapy available to a wider audience; please get in touch if you'd like to discuss this.
If you'd like to get started, or just want to find out a bit more, the easiest thing is to drop me a message. I offer a free 20-minute introductory call: a chance to ask questions, get a sense of how I work, and see whether working together feels right. No commitment, no obligation.
You can reach me by email at nick@nicholaspage.co.uk, by WhatsApp on 07802 881541, or by selecting Get in Touch below. I aim to respond within 48 hours.
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