About Jac Cunningham
For a long time, I was the calm one.
The one who could hold things together.
The one who could read the room, soften the edges, translate between worlds.
The one who kept going, even when something inside me was quietly disappearing.
At home, I lived between intensity and tenderness —
explosions and affection, love and volatility —
and I learned how to stay steady no matter what was happening around me.
I became very good at managing energy that wasn’t mine.
Until one day, I couldn’t do it anymore.
There came a moment where leaving felt easier than staying.
Not because I didn’t love my family —
but because I had lost touch with myself.
Instead of walking out, I walked away temporarily.
I booked myself into a retreat with no plan except to stop thinking.
I let go of my mind’s grip.
I stopped fixing.
I started doing the things that brought me back into my body, my rhythm, my own aliveness.
That was the turning point.
Not because everything changed overnight —
but because I did.
What I came to understand
I saw clearly that most people aren’t broken.
They’re exhausted from living out of alignment with their own energy.
I had spent years watching people — clients, loved ones, myself —
try harder, follow strategies, push through discomfort, and call it growth.
What I saw instead was this:
When you stop forcing, clarity returns.
When you stop performing, direction emerges.
When you stop being told what to do, you remember how to listen.
How I work now
I don’t tell people what to do.
I don’t give formulas to follow or identities to adopt.
I work with timing, readiness, and self-trust.
I use Human Design as a language — not a system —
to help people recognise what’s already true about them,
so decisions come from alignment rather than pressure.
Clients find me when they’re done overriding themselves.
Who this work is for
I’m not here for everyone.
I work with thoughtful, intuitive women who feel a quiet pull toward something more honest —
in life, in work, or in identity.
They’re not looking for motivation.
They’re looking for relief.
They don’t want to be told who to become.
They want permission to return to who they already are.
An Invitation
If you’re in a season where pushing no longer works —
and listening feels both unfamiliar and necessary —
you’re welcome here.
There’s no urgency.
No fixing.
Just space, clarity, and a different way forward.