A space to
return to
yourself.

I grew up in South East London in the 1980s, born into love and already reaching for my voice. I was the little girl singing in her bedroom, playing teacher and tenderly caring for her dolls and teddies. Singing was never simply something I did. It was how I met myself.

Alongside that joy ran another, quieter thread. I was an active child living with an illness nobody could explain, and I spent parts of my early life moving in and out of hospital. I did not yet know that I had been born with a genetic condition affecting my connective tissue. I only knew that my body seemed to ask different things of me — and that my voice remained somewhere I could return.

I sang throughout childhood and my teenage years, but I did not yet feel safe enough within myself to follow the path my soul longed for. In my twenties, possibility appeared: I was placed in a manufactured pop group, with management and the promise of a record deal. For a moment, the dream felt close enough to touch. When the band dissolved, it ended painfully, and the path I had imagined seemed to disappear with it.

“My singing voice brings me into alignment with my soul. When I trust enough to step aside, my intuition is free to flow.”— Victoria Rebecca

The path within

Yet my voice never left me. It simply began leading me somewhere deeper.

I turned inward and followed a spiritual path that took me to France to study Sivananda yoga and meditation. There, listening began to mean something more than hearing sound. It became a way of meeting the body, the inner world and the quieter wisdom beneath words.

Over the years, I moved through every level of Reiki to become a Reiki Master. After making New Zealand my home in 2012, I continued into Theta practice and somatic energy therapy. Each path added another thread to the work that was gradually taking shape within me — body, energy, intuition, voice and presence.

Teaching the whole voice

My devotion to voice also led me to train as a vocal technician with Justin Stoney and, from there, to open a vocal academy for children. Teaching gradually carried me beyond conventional technique.

I began creating a somatic-based curriculum in which breath, body, sensation and self-expression belonged alongside the notes. I saw how naturally this approach supported the neurodivergent children I taught, offering them space to meet their voices without asking them to fit themselves into a single mould.

Motherhood & the body

Motherhood brought another part of my own story into the light. When I began recognising my unexplained symptoms in my two beautiful children, a lifelong pattern finally had a name: Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, or EDS.

This connective-tissue condition affects the body in many different ways and has, at times, profoundly limited my life. Difficulties with my neck and spine can also affect the very instrument that has carried me through it all.

I do not share this because illness is the centre of who I am. It is one landscape within a much larger life — one of the many landscapes my voice and I have travelled through together.

“Some seasons have held more singing than others, but my voice and I have never been far from one another.”— Victoria Rebecca

And now, in this season, my voice is asking to be heard.

What I offer today is not separate from the life I have lived. It is the meeting place of everything I have gathered: music and motherhood, illness and intuition, training and tenderness, body and spirit. When I sing, I am not trying to become someone else. I am allowing more of who I am to move through.