Royal Letters, Certificates, and the Real Work That Matters

Written from my kitchen table on a very Autumnal day, with a Kensington Palace letter on one side, a Foundation Diploma Certificate on the other, and a dog at my feet who thinks I'm making an unnecessary fuss about some pieces of paper when there are clearly more important things in life...like treats.

This morning I sat watching a therapy dog, tail wagging like she owns the place (which, let's be honest, she does), lying calmly next to a child who's just had a rough morning. The room is quieter, the breathing a little slower, and somewhere in the back of my brain I'm thinking, this is why we do this work.

Also thinking: why did I forget to bring more treats?

Some days, the work can feel thankless. You might leave feeling like you've achieved roughly the same impact as a chocolate teapot. Other days, it's like shouting encouragement into the void while someone (or something) else gets all the credit for just...showing up. And yet, apparently, all those moments of wondering "am I actually making a difference?" do build something bigger.

When Kensington Palace Writes To You

This week, the universe decided to throw me a couple of curveballs in the form of actual recognition.

First, my lovely postman (who usually brings me bills and the occasional Amazon regret purchase) delivered an envelope with Kensington Palace stamped on it. The actual palace. Where actual royalty lives.

I stood on my doorstep staring at it, genuinely convinced someone was having a laugh at my expense (hello, anxiety driven paranoia!). I mean who writes to random people with therapy dogs?

Apparently, The Princess of Wales's office does.

Inside was a personal letter thanking me for my work with the All Is Well Approach and confirming that my details had been passed to the Royal Foundation's Centre for Early Childhood. 

Read that again: The All Is Well Approach - our work with children and young people, a therapy dog, and creating safer spaces - has been acknowledged by the future Queen of England's team and forwarded to one of the most influential early childhood organisations in the country.

The letter acknowledged the emotional roots of our work, describing the approach as “so inspirational” for drawing on personal experiences of childhood loss. That one sentence alone felt like a quiet exhale - a reminder that lived experience matters.

I'm not going to lie - I basically cried happy tears on the doorstep. The postman looked mildly concerned.

You pour your heart into work that matters - advocating for children, championing trauma informed approaches, shouting about the magic of Animal Assisted Intervention - but most days, you wonder if anyone notices. Then, suddenly, Kensington Palace does.

It's the kind of validation that makes every late night, every difficult conversation, every moment of self-doubt feel worth it.

And Then Delivery Number Two Arrived…

Just when I thought my week couldn't get any more surreal, my Foundation Diploma in Therapeutic Safety in Trauma Certificate arrived. Completed back before the summer holiday, but the official paperwork took it's time to get here (as all the best things do).

Months of pretending to be a functioning adult with a study schedule, rather than a caffeine fuelled gremlin clutching highlighters and hope. Turns out, according to a very official piece of paper, I actually do know what I'm doing. Who knew?

Two pieces of recognition in one week. Both completely different.

Both equally meaningful in their own ways.

Why Celebrating Actually Matters (Even When It Feels Awkward)

Celebrating milestones, whether a royal letter or a hard earned certificate, isn’t just ego-stroking (though that’s nice and I’m properly chuffed!). It’s proof that the invisible work, the days of herding cats in a hurricane, add up to something real. Those moments when you wonder if anyone notices? Advocating for children, managing a team, running a business, or just trying to keep your household from descending into chaos. The work you do when nobody's watching, when there's no applause…they’re building foundations, even when you can’t see it.

And sometimes (not always, but sometimes) that work gets recognised in ways you never expected.

When Validation Meets Mission

There’s something powerful about external recognition. Not because the certificate or the letter makes the work more valuable, but because it amplifies your voice and mission in ways you couldn’t do alone.

That royal letter isn’t just nice for me and Lola personally (though it really, REALLY is). It’s a spotlight on trauma informed practice, on the importance of therapeutic interventions for children, on the incredible magic of animal assisted intervention, on creating genuinely safe spaces in schools and communities. It’s validation that this work (helping children and young people feel safe enough to learn, grow, and just be themselves) matters at the highest levels.

The Foundation Diploma? That’s proof I’ve invested in deepening my knowledge and understanding, that I’m committed to evidence based practice, that this isn’t just about showing up with a cute dog and hoping for the best.

We all have our own version of this; Maybe it’s a thank you note from someone you helped months ago. A smile from a child who had all but given up. Recognition from someone whose opinion really matters to you. Realising you’ve created something meaningful, honest, and ethical that makes a genuine difference.

These moments aren’t the point of the work, but they’re fuel to keep going, and proof that showing up consistently creates impact.

Not a photo op, not a social media post, not a performance, but honest impact.

For me, the real recognition is the child’s breakthrough moment. It’s realising I handled something today that would have floored me a month ago. It’s knowing the quiet, everyday work matters…even when you’re winging it.

Especially when you’re winging it.

Lola, by the way, remains completely unimpressed by these human achievements. She got belly rubs and treats, which in her world is basically the same as a royal commendation. Sometimes I think she's got the right idea about priorities.

Here's to the Wobbles and the Wins

So here’s to milestones, big and small. To the days when you feel like a fraud and the days when Kensington Palace writes to you proving you’re not. To the people (and dogs) who make us look more competent than we might feel. And to anyone quietly doing important work while wondering if it matters.

Keep showing up. Because sometimes, someone really is paying attention - even from a palace.

And even when they’re not? You’re still making a difference. You’re the person someone remembers twenty years from now. The one who said the right thing at the right moment. The one who showed up when it counted.

Those small, invisible moments are changing someone’s world - even if you never know it.

Your impact matters more than you realise.

If your school or organisation in Warrington, Widnes, Liverpool, or beyond would like to explore trauma informed practice, therapy dog interventions, or creating calmer spaces with significantly less existential crisis, get in touch here.