A note from Nici · May 2026
The thing I haven't said out loud yet
I had this idea for six months.
I thought about it. I tweaked it. I wrote landing page copy in my head while walking the dogs. I rewrote it. I parked it. I picked it back up. I told three people about it and watched their faces for a flicker of yes.
And I kept getting stuck on the same thing.
What if no one turns up?
That's the sentence that ran underneath everything. Not "is this a good idea." Not "can I do this." Just — what if I open the door and the room is empty.
I'm 47. I've been ADHD since forever, dyslexic since forever, dyscalculic and auditory-processing-different and cognitively-saturated-by-Tuesday since forever. I've run businesses. I've stood on stages. I've delivered the thing. And still, this one small idea — a room. Ninety minutes. Ten women. One question each — sat in a drawer for half a year because I couldn't get past what if no one turns up.
That's the loop.
What the loop actually is
The loop isn't laziness. (I don't use that word. Permanently struck out of the brand.)
The loop is what happens when your brain is brilliant at generating and unsupported at finishing. When you can see seventeen versions of a thing before breakfast and none of them feel quite right. When the cost of pressing send is louder than the cost of not.
The loop is what happens when you're solo. When there's no one across the kitchen table going that's enough, just send it. When the only voice in the room is the one telling you it's not ready.
I have built a whole career on understanding this in other people — kids in classrooms, EHCPs, accessibility, belonging. I can spot a shut-down child from across a room. I can write the report that gets her the support. I can tell a head teacher to rethink the end-of-day staff meeting.
And I still couldn't shake my own loop on my own.
That's the bit that finally landed for me.
What I realised, on a morning walk
I was talking out loud to my phone — voice note, dogs ahead, the usual — and I said this:
I'm not the facilitator who has all the knowledge. I'm the brilliant person who brings everyone together. That inspires people. That finds people to solve problems we all have so we can move forward. That opens the conversation so it's authentic and rich.
And then I said:
There's just nothing out there for us.
And I cried a bit, because it was true. There are plenty of mastermind groups. Plenty of business coaches. Plenty of women's networks where the energy is hustle and the pace is exhausting and the what if no one turns up never gets named because everyone's pretending they don't have a loop.
There isn't a room — small, slow, neurodivergent by design, brilliant by default — where you bring the thing that's stuck and we shrink it together until you can move it by one step.
So I'm building one.
What Loop Breakers is, in one breath
Ninety minutes. Ten people max. Online. £10. You bring one thing you've been circling. We work it down together until there's one obvious next step. You leave with that one step.
Not five. Not a plan. One.
That's the whole format. There's a Wednesday Guest Stage too — bigger, up to forty, a guest practitioner, talk and held Q&A. First one is Nicki Hambleton on sketch-noting, 20 May.
But the heart of it is the small Tuesday room. First one is 5 May 2026.
"But I don't know what my loop is"
Good. You don't need to know.
Some people walk in with a clean sentence — I've been trying to launch this thing for two years. Some people walk in going I just feel stuck and I can't tell you why. Both are welcome. Both are normal.
If you can't name your loop, that is your loop. The not-being-able-to-see-it is the thing.
You bring the foggy version. We find the edges of it together. You leave with one small thing to do next — even if "the next thing" is just get clearer on what the loop actually is.
That's a perfectly good outcome.
If even thinking about a Tuesday session feels like too much right now — book a free 25-minute call and we'll just talk. No agenda. Tell me who you are, what you're juggling, what's looping. I'll listen properly before I say anything useful.
What I want to say to you, specifically
If you've got a thing you've been circling — six months, a year, longer — I want you in the room.
If you're the woman who has rewritten her landing page eleven times and still can't ship it, I want you in the room.
If your brain has too many tabs open and not enough finishers, I want you in the room.
If you've quietly shelved something brilliant because there was no one across the table going just send it — that thing is the thing you bring.
You don't need another idea. You don't need more information. You don't need a course.
You need:
- a smaller step
- a bit of structure
- people in the room with you when you finally go for it
That's it. That's the whole thing.
Let's build this together
I'm not pretending I've got this figured out. I'm building Loop Breakers in public — pricing, format, cadence, who hosts the Guest Stages, what the community space looks like — and I'd rather build it with the people who'll use it than for a hypothetical version of them I've made up in my head.
If you come to the first one and something's wrong, tell me. If the £10 is the difference between coming and not, the £5 access seat is there with no application and no questions — just reply and ask. If you've got an idea for a Guest Stage, tell me that too.
This is the room I needed and couldn't find. I'm making it. I'd love it if you came.
Book a Tuesday Loop Breakers seat →
With love and not even a little bit of pressure,
Nici
Founder · Unbarrier
ADHD · dyslexic · dyscalculic · auditory processing different · still here, still building
#unbarrier