From Coach To CEO: My Journey to Boxing For Better

I never set out to start a boxing organisation. In truth, I just wanted to make a difference — in real, tangible ways. Not by solving global problems, but by showing up for the issues I could see right in front of me: youth violence, mental health, isolation, apathy. The things that take root in communities when people don’t feel seen, supported or inspired.

Growing up, I had what felt like a loving, stable upbringing. My mum and dad separated when I was five, but both remained very present in my life. My mum, though, battled depression throughout her life and was later diagnosed with breast cancer at just 39, when I was only 13. Her strength through that journey shaped me deeply, though it would take years — and her passing in 2021 — to fully understand the impact it had.

There were other defining moments, too. Like when a PE teacher told me I wasn’t good enough to study PE. I did it anyway — GCSE, A Level, then a degree — and consistently ranked among the top in my class. I was even awarded a scholarship at university in recognition for outstanding contribution to the wider community in relation to my course. One of the most pivotal experiences I had was the summer I spent in America at Kamp Kiwanis, working with underprivileged and special needs children and adults. It was a lesson in humility and humanity, and it lit a spark in me: inclusion matters. Everyone deserves the chance to thrive.

Fast forward to 2020 — the world was in lockdown, and I was running outdoor bootcamps in a park in Leigh. I noticed a group of young lads hanging around: swearing, fighting, getting into trouble. PCSOs came regularly, but the kids just ran rings around them. Week after week, they stayed. So I started speaking to them. They began helping me carry equipment from my car. I let them hit the pads before and after sessions. And over time, something shifted — they were respectful, even helpful. One day, an off-duty police officer who attended my sessions pulled me aside and said, “They don’t respond to the uniform, but they respond to you.” That stuck with me.

Around the same time, tragedy struck close to home. A young person I’d once taught had a sibling implicated in a local murder. It shook me to my core. It reminded me that when we don’t reach young people early, the consequences can be devastating — for them, for their families, for entire communities.

It all came to a head in 2021. The same year I lost my mum to cancer, I founded Boxing For Better. Our first session was held in Higher Folds — a free-to-attend boxing class that remains free to this day, on that very first day 32 children turned up. It wasn’t about creating champions in the ring. It was about creating champions in life. About offering a space where people — especially those who’ve been overlooked — could feel seen, supported and part of something positive.

Since then, Boxing For Better has grown beyond anything I imagined. We now run free programmes five days a week, supporting children, young offenders, men battling mental health, children with SEND, adults on probation, people living with disabilities, SEMH pupils, families and schools across the North West.

I was honoured to be one of 500 people across the UK recognised with a Coronation Champion Award from the King and Queen — but truthfully, the real reward is in seeing lives change. It’s in watching a young lad who used to run from the police become a leader in the gym. It’s in hearing a man say the boxing sessions are what get him through the week.

Boxing For Better was never just about boxing. It’s about connection, purpose, and believing that everyone — no matter their past, their postcode, or their circumstances — has the potential to grow.

And I’ll keep fighting for that