There's a moment I'll never forget.

It was the end of November, and something shifted. A realisation crept in — slow and then all at once — that the man I had opened my heart to online didn't exist. Not really. The connection, the plans, the feeling that my life was finally moving forward again — it had all been a carefully constructed illusion. And I had given him money to keep it alive.

I remember sitting with that truth and thinking: how did I do that? How did I make him more important than me?

That question — and the long, painful journey to answer it — is why I do the work I do today.

My story

Six years ago, I found the courage to leave a difficult marriage. I was a single mum of two daughters, rebuilding my life from the ground up — new home, new routines, new sense of who I was becoming. After a while, I felt ready to take the next step. I started online dating with real hope. I felt excited, independent, lit up by the possibility of a new chapter.

What I didn't realise was how vulnerable I still was underneath all of that optimism. On the outside, I had it together. I was showing up for my daughters, managing the house, getting on with my work. But that personal piece — the part of me that longed for real connection — was raw and wide open. And someone saw that, and used it.

Over the course of a few months, through a slow and deliberate pattern of attention, affection and carefully placed requests, I was scammed out of a significant amount of money. When I finally started asking questions, the line went dead. The person vanished. And I was left alone with the wreckage — financially, emotionally, and in terms of how I saw myself.

The shame was immense. I told no one for a long time. I couldn't understand how someone like me — educated, capable, self-aware — could have allowed this to happen. I judged myself harshly, silently, for years.

It took me four years to be able to put words to this story.

The turning point

What eventually changed everything was working with a coach. Not to talk about him, but to talk about me — to understand where I was when it happened, why I had silenced my own instincts, and how I could forgive myself enough to move forward.

That process of self-forgiveness was the hardest thing I have ever done. And it was also the most transformative.

I came to understand that what happened to me wasn't a reflection of my intelligence or my worth. It was a reflection of where I was in my healing — a place of vulnerability I hadn't fully recognised in myself. And the moment I stopped judging myself for that, something shifted. I stopped feeling small, stuck and dark. I started feeling like myself again.

I went on to train as a personal development coach. I have now spent five years helping women move through the things that are keeping them stuck — the judgment, the shame, the loss of trust in themselves — and back into a life they feel genuinely connected to and proud of.

The Self-Leadership Academy is the platform I always wished had existed when I needed it most.

What I believe

I believe that really bad things happen to good people — and that those experiences don't have to define the rest of your life.

I believe that self-judgment is one of the most powerful forces keeping women stuck. And that the moment you move from judgment into curiosity and acceptance, everything starts to shift.

I believe that vulnerability is not weakness. My greatest role model is Brené Brown — the woman who taught me that it's okay to talk about shame, that the thing we most want to hide is often the very thing that sets us free.

And I believe that women, when they come together without judgment, are capable of extraordinary things.

If you recognise yourself in my story

Maybe you've been through something that destabilised you — a betrayal, a scam, a divorce, a loss that left you questioning who you are and whether you can trust yourself again.

Maybe the dust has settled, but you still feel lost. Like the version of you that existed before is gone, and you're not quite sure who you are now.

I want you to know: you are not alone. What happened to you is not a reflection of your worth. And there is a way forward — not around what happened, but through it.

I know, because I've walked that path myself.

I'm Marcelle Jans, founder of the Self-Leadership Academy, personal development coach and trainer, mum of two, and someone who has been exactly where you are.

I'd love to connect.

[Book a free call https://calendly.com/self-leadershipacademy/30-minute-connection-session

Based in the Netherlands, working with women across the world.