I was born and raised in Tottenham in north London, the youngest of four children to Caribbean parents. My mum was from Montserrat and raised us on a council estate with very little materially, but with an abundance of love. Those early years were full of community. We played outside until someone’s name was called for dinner. Everyone knew everyone. It was not wealthy, but it was happy.

Things shifted in my teenage years. I was growing up in the 1980s in Tottenham and beginning to understand that I was gay. It was not an easy time or place to be different. I learned quickly how to navigate the world by building connections. I became the person people felt safe with. I made friends across every group. I listened. I supported. I created bridges where there were divides. I did not have the language for it then, but I was already doing what I now recognise as people development.

When I was sixteen, my mum passed away. That was the pivotal moment of my life. Suddenly I was on my own. I was working on a Youth Training Scheme with Haringey Council, and I decided that I would not become another statistic. I worked relentlessly and within a year became the youngest housing manager in the borough, managing the very estate I had grown up on.

Over the next three decades, one thread remained constant. Whatever job I did, I gravitated towards helping people grow. I worked in housing, then in the corporate sector, then in learning and development consultancy. I built programmes, coached leaders and became a senior organisational development specialist. I completed two master’s degrees and became a Chartered Fellow of the CIPD. On paper, I had accomplished everything, but something was still missing.

Even at my most senior level, I found myself wrapping my passion for people inside corporate objectives. I was developing leaders to drive performance and increase revenue. I did it well, but it did not feel aligned with my deepest values. I have been a practising SGI Nichiren Buddhist for over twenty years, and during the pandemic I entered what I can only describe as an existential reckoning. Aged fifty, I asked myself, what is the real work I want to do in the next chapter of my life? How do I want to create value in society?

The answer was simple and clear. I want to sit with people and help them overcome their suffering. That realisation brought me back to something I had been doing since my twenties. When I came out aged twenty-seven, during the aftermath of the AIDS crisis, I became involved in leading a charity to support Black gay men who were navigating stigma, secrecy and trauma. I helped build community interventions, facilitated workshops and supported men struggling with the intersectionality of racial and sexual identity and mental health. It was instinctive work, rooted in lived experience and a desire to create safety for others. I saw how powerful it was when someone felt truly heard.

I knew that I wanted to transition from organisational psychology back to personal psychology. I completed a postgraduate foundation in counselling and began volunteering as a telephone counsellor for South East London Mind’s mental health crisis line. The more I did, the more certain I became that I made the right choice.

Finding the right university was crucial. I needed a place aligned with my values around social justice, lived experience and accessibility. From the moment I attended the open evening at the University of East London, I knew this was where I belonged. The ethos was clear. Counselling here is rooted in human connection, diversity and community impact. The curriculum is geared towards addressing the importance of race, class and sexuality in therapy.

UEL stood out not only for its philosophy, but also for its commitment to widening participation. As someone retraining later in life, I was not eligible for a postgraduate loan. Many institutions simply closed the door. UEL did the opposite. The scholarship process recognised individual circumstances rather than rigid categories. Receiving the scholarship removed a significant financial barrier and allowed me to begin this next chapter with focus and confidence.

I am now training to become a psychotherapist. I will be starting my clinical placement as a Counsellor in SE London Mind’s African, African-Caribbean Counselling Service in a few weeks. By the time I qualify, I will be sixty. I see that not as a limitation, but as strength. I bring a lifetime of lived experience, professional expertise, commitment to social justice and personal resilience into the therapy room. I understand what it means to rebuild, to reinvent and to question everything you thought defined you.

Gary Taylor

MA Integrative Counselling and Psychotherapy