The scent of freshly ground coffee fills the air as I step into a quiet corner café in Bath. I spot Gail Weiner immediately, her curly hair catching the soft afternoon sunlight. As I approach, she looks up, her brown eyes crinkling into a warm smile that instantly puts me at ease.
"So lovely to meet you," she greets me, her South African accent adding a musical lilt to her words. I settle into the seat across from her, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside me—I'm about to sit down with the woman whose book has been my constant companion for weeks.
We order our drinks—cappuccino for me, rooibos tea for Gail—and slip into conversation with an ease that surprises me. I mention her accent, and she lets out a soft laugh.
"You noticed," she says, raising an eyebrow behind her black-rimmed glasses, stylish like her outfit. She's as cool as I expected. "I bet you read about my move to the UK in the book, didn't you?"
I nod. "Yes! And it's quite the story. I can imagine it's become a great dinner party tale by now."
Her eyes twinkle at this, and there's that smile again—the kind that makes you feel like you've known her for years.
"Oh, absolutely," she laughs. "February 2020—age 50, and I decide it's the perfect time to move halfway across the world. But not just me, mind you. I brought my 87-year-old mum, 15-year-old son, a cat, and a dog!"
I chuckle. "That sounds... intense."
"Intense is one word for it," she says. "We landed, and then—boom. One month later, the world shuts down. Talk about timing," she adds, shaking her head in disbelief. "But we made it work. That's what ultra-independents do—we adapt."
As she speaks, I'm reminded of why her writing struck such a chord with me. It wasn't just the revolutionary ideas; it was the way she wrote, like she was sitting across from you, sharing stories over a cup of tea. I tell her this, and her eyes soften, her expression warm.
"That's exactly what I hoped for," she says. "I wanted it to feel like a conversation, not a lecture. We're all in this together."
I nod, thinking back to the first time I encountered her work—a 2020 blog post about ultra-independence as a trauma response. It was eye-opening, as it had been for countless other women. I share this with her, explaining how her words revealed a truth many of us hadn't considered: that our self-sufficiency, while admirable, often left us isolated and overwhelmed.
Gail listens intently, her brown eyes reflecting something deeper—empathy, understanding. "That post came from a very personal place," she says softly. "Back in my thirties, I was part of a book club—all high-achieving, fiercely independent women. We'd sip wine and boast about how busy we were, how much we didn't need anyone. 'Needing someone?' That wasn't even in our vocabulary."
She pauses, her gaze distant for a moment. "Then my forties hit, my marriage fell apart, and I realised I hated my corporate job. On paper, everything looked perfect, but I was completely alone. The burnout was real, and I had no idea how to ask for help. Needing support? Unthinkable. It took a decade of healing to realise that I'd built myself an island, wrapped in my independence like armour. It was my way of surviving a world that had felt dangerous."
Her words resonate deeply, and I find myself nodding along, a lump forming in my throat. How many times had I done the same, pushing myself to the brink because I was too proud to ask for help?
"That blog post seems to have been a turning point for you," I say. "How did it evolve into Healing the Ultra-Independent Heart?"
"It was quite a journey," she admits, leaning in slightly. "The response to that post was overwhelming. Women from all walks of life were reaching out, saying, 'This is me!' I realised I wasn't alone in this. That's when I knew I had to dig deeper."
Her coaching work soon followed, connecting her with women from around the world. "I've been so lucky," she continues. "The women I coach have become dear friends, and I learn from them as much as they learn from me. I also realised that not everyone can afford one-on-one coaching, so I wrote the book to reach more women, to share these ideas with as many as possible."
"What I loved most about the book," I say, "was how you didn't demonise independence. You acknowledged its power, but also its limits."
Her eyes shine, her face lighting up with that familiar warmth. "Exactly! That's what I was aiming for—*Healing the Ultra-Independent Heart* isn't about becoming less independent. It's about balance. It's about learning to harness our superpower without burning out."
"It's quite a radical idea in today's 'girlboss' culture," I muse.
"Isn't it just?" she says with a wry smile. "We're so busy leaning in that we've forgotten how to lean on others. In the book, I challenge women to do the scariest thing—ask for help."
I laugh, remembering how confronting that part of the book was. "I can almost hear the collective gasp from your readers."
Gail laughs too, the sound rich and infectious. "Oh, absolutely. But there's a shift happening. Ten years ago, we were deep in hustle culture—neon signs at WeWork telling us to 'hustle harder.' Now, we're being reminded it's okay to slow down, that rest is important. The world's changing, and it's about time." She leans back, her expression thoughtful. "Imagine a world where we can be both powerful and supported. That's not weakness—that's wholeness."
"What's been the biggest surprise for your readers?" I ask, curious.
"The boundaries chapter always shocks them," she says with a knowing smile. "Ultra-independents often have the worst boundaries. We think we can handle everything, so we overextend. We're like emotional ATMs—always giving, never saying no."
I wince. "That hits close to home."
"I thought it might," she says, her voice full of empathy. "And relationships? That's a whole other minefield. Do you know how hard it is to fall in love when you've convinced yourself you don't need anyone?"
I laugh, shaking my head. "Trust me, I know."
"It's like trying to swim while refusing to get wet," she says with a laugh. "But that's where the magic happens—in vulnerability, in letting go."
As our conversation deepens, I bring up another part of the book that struck me. "You talk about balancing masculine and feminine energy. That was one of my favourite chapters. Could you elaborate?"
"Of course," she says. "Ultra-independents are often in survival mode, which is very masculine energy—focused on doing, controlling. Feminine energy, on the other hand, is about flow, about being. It's about finding that balance, bringing both into our lives."
I nod. "That exercise about letting go of the 'bad boy' in the romantic relationships chapter really hit home for me."
Gail laughs, a soft, knowing laugh. "Oh, us ultra-independents! We always think we can 'fix' the bad relationship partner, don't we? We like being the strong one in relationships, but it just leaves us more alone."
As our time together draws to a close, I feel like I've witnessed something special—an intimate glimpse into a quiet revolution. Gail Weiner isn't just writing books or coaching clients; she's challenging the very foundations of how we define strength.
"So, what's next on your mission?" I ask, already eager for more of her wisdom.
"I'm working on a companion workbook. Reading about these ideas is one thing, but I want women to live them. The exercises will make you laugh, cry, and probably want to throw the book across the room at least once."
I grin. "Sounds cathartic."
"Oh, it is," she says, smiling warmly. "But that's the point. True independence isn't about going it alone—it's about knowing when to stand strong and when to reach out. And trust me, learning to reach out? That's where the real adventure begins."
As I prepare to leave, Gail strikes up a conversation with some women at the next table. They've overheard our discussion and begin asking her about ultra-independence, and she's off, passionately explaining how it's shaped by childhood experiences. "As adults, we break glass ceilings at work," she says, "but still come home to cook, care for the kids, and look after our partners. It's all too much." She leans in, speaking animatedly about balance. The women listen intently, the conversation flowing naturally. Gail pauses to hug me goodbye and sign my copy of her book, telling me to keep in touch—she loves hearing from her readers. Then she's back to the table, where the women have pulled up a chair for her to sit.
As I step out into the streets of Bath, everything seems different. In the sea of people around me, I wonder how many are silently struggling, drowning in their own competence. Thanks to Gail, a lifeline is out there. The question is, are we brave enough to take it?
I clutch my signed copy of Healing the Ultra-Independent Heart a little closer, realising it's more than just a book—it's a guide to a treasure I hadn't even known I was searching for. And maybe, just maybe, it's time to begin my own journey in letting go.
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Healing The Ultra-Independent Heart by Gail Weiner is available on Amazon worldwide in both Ebook and Paperback. - https://a.co/d/aee2YEe
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