“Being unapologetic isn’t about being harsh — it’s about stopping ourselves from saying sorry just for existing.”
I had the pleasure of talking with Annalie Howling. Annalie is a London-based performance coach and trauma specialist whose work spans elite athletes, senior executives, ex-military personnel, and public figures. With more than two decades of experience in corporate leadership and coaching, she has carved out a unique space at the intersection of business, therapy, and personal development. Her forthcoming book, Unapologetic: Unshackle Your Shame, Reclaim Your Power, set for global release in May 2025, reflects a deeply personal and professional journey into the psychology of shame, trauma recovery, and resilience.
Howling’s early life was marked by personal adversity. She has spoken openly in interviews about growing up in a violent and emotionally neglectful household, where she experienced physical abuse and isolation. Despite these circumstances, she describes her grandmother as a nurturing figure who provided a sense of safety and belonging, in contrast to her otherwise painful childhood.
Her professional life began in the property and construction industries, where she achieved significant financial and professional success. She has said that her initial career choices were motivated by a desire to create the kind of safety — particularly financial and emotional — she lacked growing up. The high-pressure environment, however, ultimately led to burnout. This turning point prompted her to reassess her life’s direction and, following a pivotal coaching session offered by a friend, she began to explore a new path.
That shift led her to San Francisco, where she immersed herself in coaching education, completing a wide array of certifications and advanced trainings. Initially working with clients in the construction sector, she began integrating coaching with her understanding of high-stakes, high-performance environments. Over time, her practice expanded to include a broad spectrum of clients — ranging from Olympians and Premier League footballers to Hollywood actors and C-suite executives.
A significant evolution in her work came with the introduction of EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), a trauma-focused therapy originally developed for PTSD. After experiencing its transformative effects firsthand during a difficult period that included the end of her marriage, Howling pursued formal training in EMDR. She has since become the only globally certified EMDR practitioner known to have transitioned from a corporate leadership background, applying the methodology through the lens of organizational and personal performance.
Howling’s approach blends traditional therapeutic frameworks with real-world, executive-level insight. She has worked extensively with FTSE companies, provided coaching for transitioning veterans as part of her role with the charity Hire A Hero UK, and served on multiple corporate boards. Her sessions often focus on helping clients understand and rewrite the internal narratives that govern their personal and professional lives — especially those tied to unresolved trauma or chronic self-doubt.
Shame is a recurring theme in both her coaching work and public commentary. She has framed it as one of the most pervasive yet least understood emotional burdens people carry — describing it as an “I am” belief rather than an “I feel” experience. According to Howling, shame takes root as a deep-seated identity — statements like “I am bad,” or “I am not enough” — that can govern behaviour and limit potential long after formative experiences have passed.
Her forthcoming book, Unapologetic, seeks to address these dynamics in depth. Drawing from her own story, her professional work, and contributions from clients and expert voices, the book presents a call to action for readers to dismantle shame narratives and reclaim agency over their lives. Structured as both memoir and manual, the book includes exercises, interviews, and personal anecdotes aimed at encouraging self-compassion and emotional liberation. She hopes the book will be especially impactful for readers who may not have access to one-on-one therapeutic support, positioning it as an accessible resource for those navigating internalized shame.
While Unapologetic is underpinned by her own experiences, Howling emphasizes that its message is intended to be universal. She has described it as a “movement,” drawing parallels to earlier works focused on female empowerment and trauma recovery, such as Women Who Run with the Wolves and Three Women. Though her practice serves a broad demographic — including male clients and non-binary individuals — her writing and speaking engagements often center on the ways in which women, in particular, are socialized to internalize shame through subtle linguistic cues and cultural expectations.
In public appearances and interviews, Howling frequently critiques the overuse of the words “sorry” and “just” — especially by women — as symptoms of deeper cultural conditioning. She encourages clients to recognize how these linguistic habits reflect a tendency to minimize themselves, often stemming from shame-based narratives.
Her online following, including more than 300,000 followers on Instagram, reflects her growing influence in both coaching and mental health spaces. She uses these platforms to share short-form insights on topics such as people-pleasing, burnout, boundaries, and emotional expression. She also runs international retreats focused on trauma healing and personal development, where she facilitates in-depth sessions aimed at confronting and reframing deeply held beliefs.
Howling’s work continues to blend therapeutic depth with pragmatic coaching, reflecting a career shaped by both personal hardship and professional reinvention. As she prepares for the release of Unapologetic, she maintains that her mission is to help others feel seen, supported, and ultimately, free from the emotional burdens that have long held them back.
She has expressed interest in future collaborations with figures such as Brené Brown, whose research on vulnerability and shame has had a significant influence on her own thinking. In the meantime, she continues to operate a growing international practice from her base in London, with clients and readers spanning the U.S., U.K., and beyond.
Yitzi: Annalie, it’s a delight and an honor to meet you. Before we dive in deep, our readers would love to learn about your personal origin story. Can you share the story of your childhood and how you grew up?
Annalie: Thank you. I’m so happy to be connected here today. I absolutely can. So, I had quite a violent upbringing. My father was very physically violent, and my mother colluded with him, which left me without a safe person in my home. Both my mother and father would blame me and tell me I was a bad girl, that I had done something wrong — or that just being myself was enough to bring on physical pain. And there was also a lot of emotional pain from being excluded.
Most of my memories in my childhood home are of feeling lonely and being very, very shy — painfully shy. But I was very blessed to have what I believe was my soul family — my grandmother. As my memory goes, I spent most weekends with her, doing things that felt joyful, free, and safe. She made me feel like a very special person, and she was always my favorite person too. So that would be my childhood in a nutshell.
Yitzi: Yes. So, please tell us a little bit about your career and why you chose that path specifically.
Annalie: Sure. I actually started in the world of construction, real estate, and property. I realize now that a lot of that had to do with trying to outrun the trauma of my childhood. I was trying to make myself financially safe, and the career that seemed to fling open its big old doors — or maybe just the side doors — was construction and property.
I was very successful in that industry, but it also led to a big burnout. I was, as I say, trying to outsprint some things I hadn’t yet been able to look at or heal from. I was chasing financial stability to give myself the safe home I never had growing up.
In the aftermath of that burnout, the person who really started me on the road to recovery was a very dear friend of mine, Nikki. She had a coaching business, and she offered me a session. I think she reached out because she knew I needed it. I’m still incredibly grateful. We did some work together, and that led me down the path of wanting to explore this mystical, magical world of coaching. What was this all about?
At the time, it was a pretty untrodden path, especially in the UK. That curiosity took me to San Francisco, where I lived for a while. Being the type A person I am — which is also how the burnout happened — I wanted to know everything about coaching. I signed up for every course I could, trained at the highest level, and went after all the advanced certifications. I actually started coaching within the construction industry, which is a tough world — mentally and physically. So I was giving back to that space and working with people there, which felt really serendipitous.
And since then, my client base has evolved — Olympians, Premier League footballers, Hollywood actors. But at the time, something was still missing. I was dealing with some painful truths I didn’t want to face, especially as my marriage was coming to an end and there were a lot of difficulties there. During that time, I discovered EMDR — eye movement desensitization and reprocessing — a trauma therapy technique. It gave me a deep level of healing, especially around childhood events that still made me feel ashamed.
I wasn’t living my full potential because I was still hiding. Shame had me believing I was still that bad girl from my past. I was trying to keep parts of myself hidden, people-please, and be perfect instead. That led to self-harm and, as I said, a moment where I had to confront a lot of hard truths all at once as my marriage fell apart.
So, I trained in EMDR myself. I felt really drawn to it. Everywhere I went, I was meeting EMDR therapists. I’d be sitting on a plane — “What do you do?” — “I’m an EMDR therapist.” Coffee shops, same thing. It felt like the universe was tapping me on the shoulder. I got the message, and I followed that path.
That training became the final and most beautiful piece of the puzzle for me — understanding why I responded or didn’t respond to things the way I did. Trauma responses like fawning, freezing — those started to make sense. I had taken on a lot of shame for not advocating for myself, but learning about the polyvagal system and how the nervous system works — something I’d already explored through functional medicine and working with athletes — helped everything click into place.
Doing that work transformed my sense of self. I was finally able to let go of the shame I’d carried. I realized I was never a bad girl — I was a sad girl. And that belief about myself was no longer true.
I also love that EMDR can be done without medication. For people who’ve struggled with addiction or other challenges, this approach is accessible and effective. It became a core part of my practice — along with coaching and my lived experience, from childhood to burnout and beyond. And that’s how all of it came together for me and ultimately became the foundation for my book.
Yitzi: Unbelievable. So yes, tell us about your book — why we have to read it, and who could benefit most from reading it.
Annalie: Oh, thank you so much. I’m really excited about this book. It’s called Unapologetic: Unshackle Your Shame, Reclaim Your Power. And I truly believe that’s exactly what happens when you remove shame. If you can get hold of it — I describe shame like a nasty weed in a garden. You can keep cutting it off at the top, maybe even dig a little and pull some out, but you really have to go all the way down to the root. Shame takes such deep roots in your system.
But when you finally bring it into the light — when you stop fearing it and stop piling more dirt on top hoping it’ll go away — you create space inside yourself. And that space naturally fills with self-compassion, which is something I couldn’t even begin to cultivate for myself before.
The book is a collection of my own stories, told in much more detail, along with stories from other women, my clients, and a few men as well. There are also expert interviews from people in all kinds of fields — fields where, traditionally, women have been told to carry shame in one form or another. And sometimes we don’t even notice it. It might be hidden in language or deeply woven into the culture. But at its core, it tells us to dim ourselves, to turn our light down, to not be too bold or too much. Because if we are, we might be rejected, excluded, or shamed further.
This book, to me, is bigger than just my story. It’s more important than me. I wanted to create something that removes the privilege barrier around getting help with shame — because it really is everywhere. I know that working with someone like me or with other professionals can be expensive, especially in the U.S., where healthcare isn’t free. I do a lot of work in the States, and I understand that challenge. So I wanted to offer a resource that anyone can access — something that could make people feel less alone.
Because shame thrives when we believe we’re the only one. It’s what keeps us from asking for help or connecting with others. It makes us hold back, even just a little bit, from truly living.
One of the things I’ve included in the book is my therapist’s notes from our first meeting. I waived my own right to anonymity from when I was self-harming and asked her to include those early files. I wanted people to see that if you’re on the edge of asking for help — worried what someone might think — there really is life on the other side of shame. And there’s nothing to fear. Most people genuinely want to help us become our best selves and live to our fullest potential.
Personally, I’m turning 44 in two months, and I feel like I’ve lived two completely different lives. One was filled with shame — I was full of it, hiding parts of myself, which led to burnout and so many other things. And now, I live a shameless life. I feel completely free, without those limitations. It feels like I’ve been given a brand new beginning. And I want other people to know that kind of freedom is possible for them too.
Yitzi: Amazing. So the name Unapologetic is a very catchy name, but I’m assuming you don’t mean you’re unapologetic about everything.
Annalie: No, it’s really about not saying sorry for being yourself. It is a bold statement — I agree — and I like that. There’s a bit of sass in me. I’ve got a nine-year-old daughter, and I want her to feel encouraged to be authentically herself.
That said, I’m also a very soft-hearted person. I’m deeply focused on nurture, care, and the true nature and essence of humanity. Being unapologetic isn’t about being harsh or dismissive — it’s about stopping ourselves from saying sorry just for existing, for taking up space, or for making someone uncomfortable simply by being who we are.
That’s where we start to diminish ourselves. And while I do love being a carer and a nurturer — it’s a beautiful, giving role — it can’t be out of balance. If I’m only serving others to hide myself or to avoid being seen, that’s shame at play again.
So Unapologetic is really about taking a stand against the narrative of shame. It’s not about never apologizing — it’s about being unapologetic in the face of shame. And I’ll always be a fan of staying soft-hearted. I actually believe that being soft-hearted is a superpower. I really stand by that.
Yitzi: That’s great. You’re making a profound point, and I’d love to unpack it a little more. You’re saying that when people say “sorry,” sometimes they’re actually apologizing for their own shame. Can you give a real-life scenario of how that plays out? Because it’s so true — some people are always apologizing, even when it’s not their fault. And what you’re pointing to is that it comes from a deeper place, a sense of being “less than.”
Annalie: Absolutely. The most common example is when someone starts to cry. If you or I were to burst into tears right now, the first thing we’d probably say is, “Sorry.” “Oh, sorry for becoming emotional.” That’s what most people do — even in sessions with me.
And I’m sure you’ve experienced it too — people apologizing the moment they start to get upset. It’s like their emotions are seen as messy, or too much, or somehow not welcome. As if showing real emotion is an inconvenience or a burden.
And I always say to a client — or a friend — when that happens: “It’s an honor to witness your full self and your emotion.” That “sorry” that slips out with the very first tear? That’s shame. That’s someone apologizing for something that’s entirely natural.
It happens with joy too, but most often with sadness or vulnerability. We’ve learned to excuse even our most basic stress responses. I tell my daughter, “It’s a really smart thing that your body cries. It’s your body letting go of stress — let’s not store it.”
So to me, that’s one of the clearest examples of how shame shows up — when we feel the need to apologize just for having human emotions. And unfortunately, we see that way too often.
Yitzi: So it’s interesting — you’re saying that when we apologize for being emotional, it comes from shame. I would’ve thought maybe it comes from not wanting to make the other person feel bad or emotional.
Annalie: Yeah, absolutely. And I definitely think there’s some kindness in that too. But still, it suggests we don’t feel our emotions are valid, or we think our emotions are too much. Like, “I don’t want to push my emotions onto you,” or, “I don’t want to take up your time.” Or even, “I don’t want to appear emotional.”
I mean, especially in British culture, there’s still this legacy of a stiff upper lip — “Keep calm and carry on.” Those are two very post-war sayings that are still pretty ingrained in the culture. That whole idea of “boys don’t cry,” and so on. It’s changing, but it’s definitely still there.
I see it all the time during my retreats, especially when we’re doing trauma work. The moment a tear starts to roll, people immediately apologize for their emotions. So I do think it’s shifting, but there’s still a long way to go.
Another example is in emails. People write, “Oh sorry, can I just…” or “Sorry, do you mind if…” or “Sorry, can I just — sorry…” It happens all the time. It’s almost like we add “sorry” or “just” as default words, apologizing for simply taking up space — barely any space at all.
Yitzi: That’s very profound. So you’re saying we should try to eliminate the word “just”?
Annalie: “Just,” yeah. I read an article a while back — I think it was on Medium — and it really schooled me. It said women in particular use the word “just” in emails, and men usually don’t. Like, “Just a quick question,” or “Just following up.” It’s this subtle, apologetic way of asking for something.
Yitzi: Beautiful. What kind of social impact do you hope to make with this book?
Annalie: Oh, I love that question. Thank you so much. I genuinely hope this becomes a movement. I hope women, girl dads, men who are allies and advocates for women — I hope everyone reads it, shares it, and pays it forward. I hope it sparks a movement that gives people information and helps them feel less alone.
This book is actually a tough read. It’s not light or easy. There are some very raw, real stories in there, and I was really insistent on including them because that’s life. I want people to read these stories and go, “Oh my goodness, that’s me.” Maybe it’s not their exact story, but they’ll recognize the feeling — the limiting belief they’ve lived with.
And when you see someone else put it into words, you realize you’re not alone. That’s when shame starts to lose its grip. Shame only wins when you’re isolated — when you think you’re the only one.
So my big hope is that even just by handing someone the book, recommending it, or giving it as a gift, you’re saying, “Hey, I really connected with this — and maybe you will too.” That opens the door for conversations. And that’s how we start helping each other.
Shame is so hard to describe because it’s not just a thought — it’s a felt sense. It’s an “I am” kind of thing. It’s deep and gut-level, sometimes even nauseating. And because of that, we don’t want to share it. But it lives in us all the time if it’s not addressed.
I want people to feel what I feel now — free from shame. Because I see it every day with my clients: that one thing they’ve never told anyone. And they look at me, wondering if I’ll judge them, if I’ll add to their shame. I won’t. But I also want people to know that most others won’t either. Most people really do want to help, support, and see us thrive.
So that’s what I hope this book creates — real conversations. At my retreats, when I speak openly about my own experiences with shame and share personal stories, it invites people to go deep. Those are the moments when real, soul-level connections are made. That’s when true friendships are born.
And people leave lighter, more connected. That’s my wish — for anyone who feels it’s too late, or that they can’t do this, or that they’re deeply alone — I hope those pages give them courage.
Yitzi: Do you think we should try to eliminate shame entirely, or is there maybe a place for it? Is shame inherently a bad emotion, like jealousy or having a temper?
Annalie: Yeah, honestly, I would prefer if people didn’t have shame. But there are a couple of moments in the book where I think we have to be pragmatic about where it might’ve served us.
For me, I had a very successful life when I was trying to outrun my trauma. Shame was pushing me to do certain things, which led to experiences, friendships, connections, and successes. One of the women in the book — an incredibly successful entrepreneur who sold her business — talks about this too. She said her deep sense of unworthiness, rooted in childhood trauma, was what drove her to succeed.
And she asked, “Would I have been this successful without it?” Possibly not. And she’s an amazing boss. She’s nurtured teams, created opportunities, and supported others in ways she didn’t experience herself growing up.
So I’d frame it this way: I’m not grateful for the shame or for what happened, and I wouldn’t choose it — but I do see how it shaped me and made me better at what I do. It was part of my path.
Still, I’d always prefer that people get to experience life on the other side of shame. If I could wave a magic wand and have someone’s shame lift as they turn the pages of this book, that would be the most meaningful thing I could do. I really believe it’s possible. Maybe not entirely, but it can give people a real push in the right direction.
And part of that shift comes with self-compassion — being able to say, “That was me doing the best I could.” For me, that looked like pushing so hard my body eventually burned out. For someone else, it might be building a company, creating jobs, supporting people, even while hiding parts of themselves.
So on the other side of shame, I think there’s this beautiful possibility of self-compassion. And that’s something I deeply wish for people too.
Yitzi: Beautiful. You also said something really profound. You’re an expert in this, so I’m sure it’s a term of art you use a lot — but I’d love for you to explain more. You said that shame is an “I am” term. What does that mean? What’s wrong with an “I am” statement? Should it be “I feel” instead? Can you unpack that a bit more?
Annalie: Sure. So in my case, for example, growing up with violence in my childhood, I was told I was a bad girl — that I had made my father hurt me, just by being who I was. And I internalized that. I thought, “I am bad.”
That’s what I mean when I say shame is an “I am” statement. It becomes a deep, limiting belief. I hear it all the time in my office with clients: “I am bad.” “I am unworthy.” “I am not enough.” “I am disgusting.” “I am stupid.” “I am weak.” “I am wrong.” “I am helpless.” “I am hopeless.”
These kinds of shame statements don’t just live in our thoughts — they become the lens through which we see the world. So if I believed, as I did, “I am bad,” then I chose relationships based on that belief. I hid parts of myself because I thought I didn’t deserve to be seen. I self-sabotaged because if something felt good, I assumed something must be wrong. I didn’t feel worthy of nice things.
That’s how shame operates — it sits in your body, it becomes your reality, and it steers your choices.
Now, the “I am” frame can be powerful in a good way, too. I had a client just this week whose shame statement from childhood abuse was, “I am stupid and wrong.” After we worked on it — processing that belief and reworking the story — she said, “I was never stupid and wrong. I am heroic.”
So yes, the “I am” can shift. It can become something incredibly positive. But when it’s driven by shame, it’s deeply negative — and it’s usually something you feel physically, not just think.
I’ll give you an example. I’m a single mom. Let’s say this morning was hectic and I didn’t feel like I did my best. I might say, “Ugh, I feel bad about that. I wasn’t at my best.” That’s guilt.
But if I said, “I am a bad mother,” even just saying those words out loud right now makes me feel sick. I know I’m not a bad mother, but that statement triggers this awful, gut-level reaction. That’s shame.
A lot of people are living with that kind of “I am” statement running quietly in the background. They might not even realize how much it’s influencing their decisions — the challenges they take on or avoid, the relationships they choose, even their ability to be present and enjoy life. Shame robs us of that.
But if we can transform that shame and replace it with self-compassion, everything changes. That’s my favorite part of this work. I’ve had clients who’ve carried shame for years after the death of a parent, saying, “I am weak.” And then, after doing this work, they finally say, “There was nothing I could’ve done.”
That moment of release — it’s incredible. It’s the biggest privilege of my life, doing this work.
Yitzi: You have an extremely ambitious goal, which is to help us eliminate the sense of shame. Now, alongside shame, we also have regrets and feelings of guilt. So you’re telling humanity we have to let go of regrets, let go of guilt, let go of shame. That’s very ambitious and it’s very wonderful, but people are going to ask you, “How? I’m constantly repeating this in my mind. How do I let go of regrets? I did this, and I regret it.” How do we let go of shame, regret, and guilt?
Annalie: So, they’re actually slightly different. Shame is, like I say, an inherent, felt sense we have within us. Regret and guilt are actually forms of anxiety. “Coulda, woulda, shoulda” is how I frame guilt — past-focused, regret-type thoughts. And then there’s another form of anxiety we’re more familiar with, which is catastrophizing about the future: “What will happen if…? How will I control this? What will I do?”
But both forms of anxiety have something in common — they rob you of your presence. They make it impossible to stay in the moment.
Now, shame is a little different. I always say to my clients, if you look ahead toward a big, beautiful goal — I’m probably not the best example, because I’m always like, “Yeah, let’s go!” — but if you’re imagining something amazing for your future and you’re feeling excited, shame is the thing that drops into that picture and dirties it. It’s like, “Oh, but you can’t do that. What if people find out about this thing from your past? What if they realize how bad or weak you are?” That’s when shame rears its ugly head.
A beautiful exercise for people is this: most people have a pretty good sense of where they feel shame. I have a lot of clients, especially men, who felt deep shame from being made to read out loud at the front of a classroom. Often they hadn’t been diagnosed with dyslexia or any kind of neurodivergence. I work with a lot of men around that, where they were made to feel stupid or ashamed. And it follows them — into their careers, their confidence, their ability to use their voice.
So I always say, replay that situation in your mind. Think of a niece, a nephew, a friend’s child — or, if you can connect to your own inner child, think of yourself at that age. Put that child into the scene. Then ask yourself: do they deserve to be shamed in front of a classroom? Do they deserve to be attacked in a space where they should have felt safe? Do they deserve to be made to feel stupid, or blamed for something way beyond their years?
It’s a powerful exercise. We find it so hard to give compassion to ourselves — if it were easy, we’d all be shame-free. But when we imagine someone else we care about, especially a child, it’s suddenly obvious that it wouldn’t be okay. I keep a picture of my daughter in my office from when she was about six. Six or seven is a common age when people come to me with incidents from that time. And I’ll say, “If you can’t connect to your own inner child, look at her. Could she have done anything to deserve that?” Even if she used cuss words or acted out — was there anything she could have done to deserve that experience?
You can see the shift happen. It’s so much easier to give compassion to someone else. That’s one way you can begin to extend it to yourself.
So that’s the difference between guilt and shame, and that’s also an exercise to help you figure out what you’re feeling. If it’s regret — something in the past — that’s usually guilt. If it’s more of a deep, ongoing feeling like, “This is something about me I can’t move past,” that’s more likely to be shame. And by placing a child or someone you care about in that past situation, and really imagining it, you can start to cultivate the kind of compassion for yourself that you naturally feel for others.
Yitzi: I have so many more questions, but I want to respect your time. Okay, this is our signature question. You’ve been blessed with a lot of success, and you must have learned an enormous amount from your experiences. So let’s focus specifically on your career in helping people let go of shame. Can you share five things you’ve learned now that you wish you knew when you first started this work?
Annalie: Yeah. First, I think “should” should be a swear word. We “should” all over ourselves way too much. That’s one thing I’ve learned. “Should” is very different from “want.” When people have too many shoulds in their life, it’s usually for other people — not something they truly want for themselves. So if you’re feeling overwhelmed, check in on your shoulds.
Second, taking care of yourself isn’t selfish. It’s actually the opposite. We often get the pyramid wrong. A helpful way to think about it is: if you’re being selfish, you’re doing something for your benefit that knowingly harms someone else. Self-care, on the other hand, is when you prioritize your own need for nurturing so that you’re better able to care for those you love. We don’t give ourselves enough permission for that.
Third, if you’re not in the present — if you’re “could-ing,” “would-ing,” “should-ing,” or catastrophizing — there’s likely anxiety there. That’s important to notice, because it gives you the chance to take steps to bring yourself back into the present moment.
Fourth, if you think you might be experiencing shame, the cure is available to everyone, and that’s self-compassion.
And finally, the thing you’re most afraid of — the thing that’s holding you back — is probably your superpower. Find the courage to share it, even if that just means saying it out loud to yourself first, or to a trusted friend. The potential that opens up when you let that go is truly profound.
Yitzi: Here’s our final question, the one we call our matchmaker question. And honestly, it works a lot of the time. We’re very lucky that some prominent leaders read this column. This is your chance to possibly connect with them. Is there someone in the world — maybe in the US or UK — you’d like to have lunch with, collaborate with, or grab a coffee with? We can tag them on social media and maybe help make that happen.
Annalie: That’s so kind. My big soul says: anyone who needs me the most. I’d happily put that out there — if anyone needs me, like a Mary Poppins to come in, I’m here. But I would love to meet Brené Brown. I see her as a deeply respected figure in the field of shame. It’s something I really hope we get to do at some point.
Yitzi: Amazing. We’ll try our best to get her attention. And even if she doesn’t respond right away, this will be out there permanently — on Internet Ink. — and who knows, it might trickle down.
Annalie: Beautiful.
Yitzi: So Annalie, how can our readers purchase your book? How can they connect with you, engage your services, or support you in any way?
Annalie: Thank you. The book is set for global release on May 13th. It’s available on Amazon, in the States, at Barnes & Noble and Target. In the UK, it’s on Amazon and at Waterstones. It’s also out in Australia, Canada — it’s everywhere. Let’s get it everywhere!
It’s a beautiful book, and I really recommend getting the hard copy because there’s a manifesto inside where you sign away your last “sorry” — and it’s to yourself. It’s about giving yourself the gift of self-compassion, making peace with a moment where you might have self-betrayed or struggled. It’s really special.
Instagram is a great place to find me: @AnnalieHowling — along with 306,000 other like-minded souls. It’s a really kind, supportive community. Everyone’s there to lift each other up. I’m also on YouTube at Annalie Howling. Not brilliant on TikTok — I think I might be a bit too old for it! — but I do have a presence there as well.
Yitzi: Beautiful. Annalie, it’s really an honor to meet you. I wish you continued success and blessings in your important work. And I hope we can do this again next year.
Annalie: I would really, really enjoy and value that. Thank you so much. This has been magical.
Yitzi: My pleasure, Annalie. I’m excited to share this with our readers.
Annalie Howling on Healing Shame, EMDR, and the Power of Saying ‘Sorry’ Less was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.