I left a Six Figure Law Career to Help Women Take Control of Their Money

I can still picture that moment on the tube.

The hum of the train, the glow of my phone screen, and the quiet rush of adrenaline as I pressed “submit” on my application for the financial adviser exams.

It felt impulsive and inevitable at the same time.

I had just come from a Female Invest event, surrounded by more than a hundred women talking about money with excitement and confidence — something I had never seen before.

The air had been alive with laughter, curiosity, and clinking glasses.

Among them was Sofia, a woman in private equity who, despite her impressive background, admitted she too felt uncertain about investing.

We had met in the queue and ended up talking for hours about the things no one had ever taught us — how to actually manage, save, and invest our money.

That conversation stayed with me. It made me realise just how many of us were navigating our finances in the dark.

I realised I was not just taking an exam. I was taking back control of my future.

That decision was the turning point — but the story began long before that.

Where it all began

I came to the UK from Germany at eighteen to study law and later spent six years in shipping litigation — a fast paced, technical, and male dominated world.

From the outside, my career looked polished.

Inside, I was running on empty.

I could draft contracts worth millions but had no idea how to manage my own finances.

That irony gnawed at me.

If someone supposedly financially literate felt this lost, how many others did too?

During the pandemic, that unease grew.

With no commute and endless virtual hearings, my days blurred into nights.

When a surprise bonus landed in my account, I froze. I could interpret shipping regulations but not my own payslip.

It turned out I wasn’t alone.

Many of my colleagues were in the same boat — competent, ambitious professionals who could handle complex legal problems but not their own financial futures.

That realisation fascinated and frustrated me in equal measure.

My first steps into the financial advice world as a client

Determined to change that, I started looking for a financial adviser. But every conversation felt impersonal or sales driven.

Everyone spoke in jargon, and no one was transparent about fees.

I didn’t just want advice — I wanted empathy, and a space where talking about money did not feel shameful.

Then one afternoon, scrolling through Instagram, I stumbled across Female Invest.

The idea of a community of women talking openly about money felt revolutionary.

I signed up for their first London event, where I met Anna, co-founder of Female Invest — not knowing how much it would change everything.

Walking into that room of over a hundred women was electric — the energy was warm, inclusive, and entirely different from any financial event I had ever attended.

It was the first time I experienced conversations about money that felt empowering rather than intimidating.

During one of the sessions, I raised my hand and asked a question about investing that, in any other setting, I would have been too embarrassed to ask.

“How do you know when to sell your investments?”

It felt silly to me at the time, but instead of judgment, I was met with encouragement.

That moment stayed with me.

It reminded me how important it is to have a safe space where we can ask questions freely, no matter how basic they may seem.

From that night on, I attended every Female Invest event I could.

Each one left me more inspired and more certain that I wanted to be part of this change.

Becoming a financial adviser

After signing up for the financial adviser exams, the next few months were some of the hardest of my life.

My enthusiasm for the subject and the sense of purpose of bringing financial clarity to many women’s lives kept me going.

I studied for the Diploma for Financial Advisers whilst still working sixty-hour weeks as a solicitor — on trains, during lunch breaks, and long after midnight.

I could not tell my colleagues, so I juggled both worlds in secret. It was brutal but also exhilarating.

During that time, I decided it was about time I practised what I was preaching and finally took control of my own finances.

I began with my student debt, which had been lingering in the background like an uninvited guest at a dinner party.

I tackled it head on, spreadsheet in hand, until it finally stopped glaring at me every time I logged into my banking app.

Next came the pensions — plural, because apparently I had collected them like souvenir mugs from every job I had ever had.

After gathering them into one manageable pot, I took a deep breath and opened a Stocks and Shares ISA.

Pressing “invest” for the first time felt equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

Since I was on a roll, I went one step further and purchased an investment property, officially crossing into responsible adult territory.

Each of these steps felt like reclaiming a small piece of control — one payment, one decision, one leap of faith at a time.

In the months after qualifying, I began exploring what a career in financial advice could actually look like.

I spoke to different firms, hoping to find a place where I could develop in a way that aligned with my values.

But as the interviews went on, I started to feel uneasy.

I felt something was off.

The culture did not fit.

I still remember one particular meeting vividly. A senior adviser leaned back in his chair, smiling as he explained the next steps.

“During your training, you would spend a few months driving around with one of our advisers, sitting in on client visits, seeing how it all works,” he said.

Then he added, almost proudly, “Once you are ready, you will need to build your own client base. The best place to start is usually your local golf club. You will meet the right kind of people there.”

The best place to start is usually your local golf club. You'll meet the right kind of people there

I nodded politely, but inside my mind was racing.

‍The right kind of people? I thought.

What about everyone else? What about the women who never get invited to the golf club?

That moment was my wake up call.

Starting my own financial advisory firm

That evening, I told a friend about it over dinner.

She burst out laughing: “You? At a golf club? With business cards?”

Neither could I.

That moment of laughter cut through my frustration — and made it clear the traditional advice model did not fit who I was or who I wanted to serve.

I wanted something modern and inclusive.

I wanted to have real conversations, be transparent about fees, and create an environment where people — especially women — felt comfortable asking questions.

I wanted to replace the transactional nature of financial advice with empathy, education, and trust.

That realisation was liberating.

After weeks of long walks, endless spreadsheets, and a growing sense that I had to do this my own way, I made the decision.

I would start my own firm — one that reflected the kind of adviser I wanted to be.

That was how Personal Finance Movement was born: not from a grand plan, but from a quiet conviction that the industry could, and should, do better.

Leaving law behind

When I finally handed in my notice, I had a sense of terror and excitement.

I was leaving behind a stable, high-paying career with great benefits to start over in an industry where I had no network and very few female role models.

But I knew that if I did not take that leap, I would always wonder “what if.”

Those early months were humbling, to put it mildly.

My sleek “home office” was really the corner of my living room, complete with a perpetually dying houseplant and a dog I was looking after for a friend — who insisted on sitting on the endless stack of paperwork for my FCA application at the most inconvenient moments.

I learned quickly that running a business meant wearing every hat imaginable — adviser, marketer, accountant, administrator, and occasional IT support when the printer refused to cooperate.

Some days I felt unstoppable; others I celebrated simply by remembering to eat lunch before 3pm.

Yet every time I sat down with a client and watched the tension leave their shoulders as things started to make sense, I was reminded why I had taken this leap.

In those moments, the chaos faded, and I knew I had made the right choice.

Alongside building my business, I began working with Female Invest.

I started helping to answer community questions and share practical guidance — the same kind of support I once needed myself.

That felt like a full-circle moment, and I decided that I wanted to help effect change within the advice industry by helping other women enter it too.

I hired my first full-time team member: Anna, a recent graduate who could not find a foot in the industry.

When I learned that only 16% of UK financial advisers are women, it reaffirmed my mission.

Representation matters.

If women do not see someone like them doing the job, they may never imagine themselves there.

What happened next was entirely unexpected.

Only 16% of UK financial advisors are women

A few months later, I received a message whilst on holiday in Cornwall — I had been shortlisted for the FT Adviser Award for Championing Women’s Equality.

On a whim, I decided that I wanted to experience the event and took a last-minute sleeper train to London.

It was amazing — a room full of diverse advisers seeking to make a difference.

When my name was called as one of the winners, I was stunned.

Walking to the stage, all I could think was: “Don’t trip in your heels.”

Beneath the nerves was pride. Change, I realised, really does start with one decision.

Of course, there were also a number of challenges as my business started to grow.

The regulatory landscape made providing advice expensive, often excluding the very people who needed it most.

I wanted a way to reach them.

So in March 2025, I made a radical decision to launch a second venture — Financial Freedom Coach — offering accessible 1:1 financial coaching on budgeting, saving, and investing basics with no minimum asset level.

Today, my two ventures complement each other: one offers regulated advice, the other empowers people to manage their money independently.

Together, they form the foundation of a movement that aims to make finance feel approachable, transparent, and genuinely human.

Looking back, leaving law to start again was the hardest and best decision I have ever made.

I traded certainty for purpose, and whilst it was risky, it has been deeply meaningful to me.

Takeaways

If there is one thing I would want you to take away, it is this: change is uncomfortable, but it is also where growth begins.

Whether you are considering a career change, a new business, or simply taking control of your finances, remember that the fear you feel is often a sign that you are moving towards something important.

So if you are standing at your own crossroads, wondering whether to take that leap, my advice is to prepare as best you can, believe in your purpose, and trust that the courage to start over might just lead you to something extraordinary.