We’ve upgraded almost everything in modern life. Our phones. Our homes. Our fitness. Our productivity. Our skincare. Our sleep. But when it comes to our minds – the place where everything actually happens – we’re still operating in crisis mode.
Mental health support is something most of us only reach for when things have already gone wrong. When we’re burnt out, breaking down, overwhelmed, or stuck. It’s reactive, medicalised, and often inaccessible.
If you follow us, you’ll know at Self Space we believe there’s another way.
We call it mental maintenance, and at its heart is a simple belief: we’ve been fed a quiet lie.
That if we’re not doing well, if we’re struggling, anxious, low, overwhelmed, lost, disconnected, then something MUST be wrong with us.
In every other area of life, we understand maintenance.
We maintain our homes.
We service our cars.
We clean our fridges.
We manage our money.
We go to the gym for our bodies.
We update our systems.
We work at our relationships.
But when it comes to our mental health, we’ve been taught that struggling means failure. Weakness. Deficiency. Breakdown. That belief is not only wrong – it’s harmful, stigmatising and keeps us stuck. Because being human is not a permanent state of being okay. Sometimes we feel good. Sometimes we feel steady. Sometimes we feel grounded. And sometimes we feel like shit. That isn’t pathology, it’s humanity.
Mental maintenance is about changing the culture from:
“If I’m not okay, something is wrong with me”
to:
“If I’m not okay, I’m human – and I need support, tools, space and care.”
It’s about proactively caring for our emotional and psychological wellbeing – not because something is broken, but because we are human, and why should this be something we consider not necessary to maintain.
Mental maintenance isn’t therapy instead of crisis support.
It’s every care before crisis support.
It’s about building:
– Emotional resilience
– Psychological buoyancy
– Self-awareness
– Perspective
– Rituals and routines
– Regulation tools
– Support systems
So that when life hits rough – and it will, for everyone – we’re not starting from zero.
Mental maintenance is the daily, human practices that help us stay well before a crisis and keep us steady when the shit hits the fan.
Because it always does. That’s not pessimism. That’s realism. And the most compassionate thing we can do as a culture is stop pretending otherwise.
We’ve been building Self Space with this in mind, normalising being human, engaging with high-quality support and spreading the word that it is how we maintain that matters. Making therapy more casual, more everyday (still at times hard work), but something we can all benefit from.
In order to keep building and growing, we are crowdfunding.
I believe so much in our mission and ethos. So why does asking for money feel so fucking uncomfortable. Here’s the part I’ve been sitting with lately.
Even after years of building Self Space. Even after seeing thousands of people supported. Even after watching mental maintenance genuinely change how people relate to themselves – I still feel a bit funny asking people to pay for it.
We’re currently crowdfunding.
We are! And as the founder, that responsibility sits firmly on my shoulders. I know and am proud that we’re building something that aims to revolutionise the mental health space – by bringing mental maintenance into everyday life, everyday culture, everyday practice.
Not crisis-only care.
Not pathology-first models.
Not waiting until people are broken.
But proactive, preventative, human-centred mental wellbeing support – designed to reduce mental health conditions and support wellbeing across the board.
This isn’t about replacing institutional capital. It’s about alignment, signalling, and keeping ownership, accountability and values close as we scale. The people who believe in this mission should help shape it.
We already know it works. We’ve built real traction, clinically and commercially:
– 130,000+ one-to-one therapy sessions delivered (30,000 in 2025)
– 4.96 / 5 average therapist rating
– Strong conversion from free intros into paid therapy
– 250+ workplace clients with 117% net retention
– 45% revenue growth YoY in workplace
– 26% average annual growth
We know how we’re gonna use the cash, and it’s good, needed, will expand our reach, support more people.
Scale access & utilisation (26.7%) → more capacity, higher utilisation, better margins
– Technology (20%) → smarter matching, journeys and clinical outcomes
– Brand & growth engine (20%) → repeatable acquisition across B2C + B2B
– Working capital (26.7%) → resilience and 18+ months runway
– Community & impact (6.7%) → therapist commons, programming, Pay It Forward
And still I’m having a little inner crisis about asking for money, even though I’m sure it’ll pay back in spirit, purpose and mind for joining us.
You are our people.
You are our community.
You are our crowd.
And yet, I’m deeply out of my comfort zone.
I’m hyper-independent. Built, in many ways, from a fear of asking. From a fear of not being heard. From a fear of needing. Because there wasn’t much room for that when I was growing up. It was mostly survival mode and feelings don’t matter. We get on with it, fit in, tough it out. So I stopped asking. In fact, I stopped noticing what I actually needed until much later.
But to counter that, I’ve run Self Space with humility at its heart. I don’t often call in favours. I don’t lean heavily on networks. I do what I say I will. I like to do things myself – sometimes to my detriment. I make it work.
So this moment feels vulnerable.
Not because I don’t believe in what we’re building.
Not because I don’t believe in the mission.
Not because I don’t believe in the impact.
But because asking for money feels personal. Exposing. Tender.
And maybe – in a strange way – this is exactly what mental maintenance teaches us.
That independence isn’t always strength.
That self-sufficiency isn’t always safe.
That coping alone isn’t always resilience.
Sometimes resilience looks like asking.
Sometimes strength is needed.
Sometimes leadership looks like vulnerability.
I’m learning to reframe asking for financial support not as charging for care, but as valuing it properly.
Because when we pay for something, we:
– Prioritise it
– Commit to it
– Protect time for it
– Take it seriously
And mental maintenance deserves that level of respect.
This crowdfunding isn’t just about capital.
It’s about belief.
It’s about shared vision.
It’s about collective responsibility.
It’s about building a future where mental maintenance isn’t niche, it’s normal.
It’s about creating something sustainable, so the people delivering care don’t burn out in the process. Because care should last. Not collapse under the weight of goodwill.
And before I finish, here’s a personal note and a gentle ask.
If, like me, you struggle to ask for your needs to be met – whether emotionally, practically, or financially – this is your reminder that you’re not alone. And that asking is not a weakness. It’s honesty. If this mission resonates, if you believe in a world where we normalise mental maintenance, where emotional wellbeing becomes everyday practice, where care is put ya hand in ya pocket yeah!
I need you. We need you. Let’s do it together.
You can find out more about our crowdfunding campaign HERE.
Risk warning: Don’t invest unless you’re prepared to lose all the money you invest. This is a high risk investment and you are unlikely to be protected if something goes wrong. Take 2 mins to learn more: https://europe.republic.com/pages/risk-warnings