I’m an osteopath in Stroud, and I explain things for a living.
Meet Kerri Holden
I’m an osteopath in Stroud, and I explain things for a living.
Not as bedside manner. As the actual work. When you don’t know what something means, your brain fills the gap with the worst thing it can think of — that’s what brains do. Explaining, properly, is how something else goes in the gap instead.
I work mostly with people who’ve had pain for a while — the ones who’ve been round several practitioners without getting a straight answer, and the ones who just waited three months and now want somebody’s opinion. Both are the right reason to come.
Never “pain-free.” Always understanding, function, confidence and hope. Not sure what to book, Book a free Start Here conversation →
Why I started arbour clinic
I kept seeing people living with long-term pain, uncertainty and a fear of moving, without the understanding or the support they needed. I don’t think good healthcare is a diagnosis and a technique. It starts with your story, and with what actually matters to you.
Healthcare, not wealthcare.
That’s not a slogan I sat down and wrote. It’s just the shortest way I’ve found to say what I mean: the plan is built around you, not around what’s easiest for me to sell you.
How I got here
I didn’t start out training to be an osteopath.
I did a film degree first — which is why I’ve spent my whole career being the arty one in the science room, and the sensible one in the arts room. I’ve made my peace with it.
After that, eight years in HR. I studied sciences part-time with the Open University all the way through it — human biology, investigative biology, maths for science. Distinction in every one of them.
Then I trained as an osteopath, part-time, while I was still working part-time in HR — including being promoted to HR Specialist partway through, running projects at work alongside the training. Five years of travelling to London for it, weekly by the final two. In my penultimate year, that meant the 3:30am coach every other Monday, and the 5am coach on the Saturdays in between. I graduated with Distinction, won the L.M. Naidoo Prize for practical osteopathic skills, and got the top OSCE grade of my entire cohort.
I tell people this because it matters, not because I’m fishing for a compliment. A decade-long, expensive, deliberately-chosen career change — training on 3:30am coaches while still holding down, and getting promoted in, a part-time job — isn’t something anyone does by accident. If you’ve ever worried that a practitioner is just going through the motions — I did this on purpose, late, and the long way round.
It’s ok to be on a different path. There’s hope for a better future. I know that because I’ve lived it once already, before I ever said it to a patient.
How I think
In my second year of osteopathy training, I watched a talk by a pain scientist called Lorimer Moseley. It completely changed how I thought about pain. A proper lightbulb moment.
There’s a reason this brand is orange, too — it’s not just a colour choice. Bright, warm and a little playful: the colour of hope rather than caution. It’s also tied to that lightbulb moment, and to everything I’ve read and learned from pain researchers since. Colour with a reason behind it.
I don’t want to be too precious about any one school of thought, though. Disciplines like this can get a bit siloed, or a bit groupie about their own research. And pain science, like every field, doesn’t have everything figured out. I’d rather stay curious about it than treat any one framework as gospel. That’s really the same thing I ask of a treatment plan. Adapt it to what’s actually in front of you, not what the textbook says should be there.
My philosophy is simple: understand the person, explain the problem, build the right plan together. You’re the expert on you. I’m the expert on pain. We work it out together, and you always know why we’re doing something.
I’m dyslexic myself, and it’s not incidental to how I work.
A lot of old-school academic ways of reading and writing are genuinely inefficient for complex, interconnected thinking — which is exactly what clinical reasoning is. Where dyslexia can be a real strength for something like this is that ability to think in a more connected, less linear way. I used to think I was procrastinating whenever I danced instead of studying. Turns out that was just how I actually learn.
It’s part of why I care so much about explaining things properly rather than handing someone a leaflet. It’s also part of why appointments with me are paced the way they are — whether or not you’re dyslexic yourself.
The credentials bit
(Since you’re going to want them.)
I graduated from the University College of Osteopathy with Distinction. I won the L.M. Naidoo Prize for Practical Osteopathic Skills, and the student-voted Olwen Starr Award for Teaching Excellence.
As part of that training, I completed over 1,000 hours of clinical supervision. That included a placement in Melbourne, Australia, at Victoria University. That’s where a lot of my practical pain science knowledge, and my use of movement coaching, properly took root.
I got the top OSCE grade of my year — an A+ across every station — and then went on to lead the redesign of the university’s own practical skills examinations. At the time, staff said they couldn’t remember anyone else ever managing A+ across every station. I topped the exam, then rebuilt it.
I went on to teach osteopaths and healthcare professionals for years afterwards. Four of those years were at the University College of Osteopathy. Then two and a half lecturing in Healthcare Science at the University of Gloucestershire. There, I was also Module Leader for Clinical and Professional Practice and for Specialist Clinical Practice, on their Advanced Clinical Practice pathways.
I’m a member of the International Association for the Study of Pain. Alongside clinic, I work as a research assistant at HSU on RECODE-DCM, a national research project. My part is building training to help osteopaths recognise a serious spinal cord condition earlier — so people get to the right specialist sooner.
I also spent over two years as Head of Clinical Education at Gloucestershire Hospitals NHS Foundation Trust. I led training strategy and delivery across the whole Trust.
I’m registered with the General Osteopathic Council — the legal requirement to practise as an osteopath in the UK. I’m also a member of the Institute of Osteopathy. Arbour Clinic is recognised by most major health insurers, so it’s worth checking with yours if you’re planning to claim.
Outside the clinic
Dancing, cooking, cats, and a pond fill my spare time. Also cinema, embroidery and sewing. When I get the chance, with mixed results — snowboarding.
Keep in touch
Still deciding? You’re welcome to stay in touch for when you’re ready. The Dandelion Seed is my monthly newsletter — one honest, practical idea about pain, written by me, no sales and no fluff.
Frequently asked questions
Yes, for now. Every appointment — osteopathy, 1:1 Pilates, or a class — is with me directly. If that ever changes as the clinic grows, you’ll always know exactly who you’re booking with.
Yes. I’m registered with the General Osteopathic Council, which is the legal requirement to practise as an osteopath in the UK. I’m also a member of the Institute of Osteopathy. Arbour Clinic is recognised by most major health insurers too.
That’s my specialism, not a filter on who walks through the door. A lot of what I see is much simpler than that — a tweaked back, a strained shoulder, a niggle from sport. I’m just as glad to help with it.
Many of the people I see are neurodivergent, and it shapes how I run appointments. Things like how much I explain, how I handle sensory input, how appointments are paced, and how much of the plan I put in writing rather than just saying out loud. Mention it when you book if that’s relevant to you.
Yes. I’m a fully certified clinical Pilates instructor as well as an osteopath. More about 1:1 Pilates Coaching →
Book a free 20-minute Start Here conversation — no obligation, just tell me what’s going on. I’ll tell you honestly whether osteopathy, 1:1 Pilates, a class, or something else entirely is the better starting point.