Does our career define who we are?

It’s a question I’ve been thinking about recently, especially with A Level and GCSE results looming.

Over the years, I’ve had many careers — nanny, chef, in-flight chef, marketer, fundraiser — and each one has shaped the person I am today. But none has been quite as fulfilling as my work now, as a Counsellor. People often ask me, “Why counselling, and why now?” So here’s my answer.

Where it began

Helping people has always been part of me. My sister was diagnosed with leukaemia when I was just four years old, and my parents became heavily involved in raising money for the Children’s Hospital in Sydney. As a family, we organised and supported fundraising events, and through that I began volunteering with the Starlight Foundation.

Every week, I would spend time with children in hospital, offering them a distraction from the challenges they were facing. That experience shaped me deeply — helping others wasn’t just something I did, it became part of who I am.

I suppose it’s in my DNA. Giving fills me up, and I’m at peace with that. It probably explains why my love languages are strongest in both gift-giving and words of affirmation!

A dream delayed

A few years ago, someone asked me what I’d do if I wasn’t a chef. Without hesitation, I said, “I’d be a child psychologist.” It had always been a dream, but one I assumed circumstances had closed off.

Then in 2014, I had a lightbulb moment. My children were a little older, and I realised perhaps it wasn’t too late after all. I began training as a Counsellor — and I haven’t looked back.

My focus today

When I first set out, my plan was to work with children. For the past five years, I’ve been part of a girls’ grammar school, supporting young people through the challenges of teenage life. It’s a role I continue to love and one that still forms part of my private practice.

But as I trained and worked on placements, my interests grew. I became fascinated by relationships — how they evolve, how people connect, and how they sometimes struggle. I also developed a strong interest in neurodiversity.

Today, alongside my school role, I spend the rest of my time working from my tranquil garden hut in Tring, Hertfordshire, where I see both couples and adults. It’s a space where people can feel safe, heard, and supported.

The privilege of the work

I know now that I can’t wave a magic wand (though I’d love to!) and make everything better. My role isn’t about “fixing” people — it’s about walking alongside them as they discover their own path forward.

And being trusted to share in that journey is, without question, one of the greatest privileges of my life.