Why I Took the Chance to Become a Celebrant — And Why I Love It More Every Day

lunaandlightceremo
Nov 27, 2025
4 min read

When people ask how I became a funeral celebrant, I often smile before I answer. The story isn’t simply about changing careers. It’s about discovering a calling I didn’t know I had, taking a leap of faith, and finding the privilege of standing beside families during some of the most tender moments of their lives.

A Career Built Around People

Before becoming a celebrant, my entire working life revolved around care, safeguarding, communication, and supporting people through difficult times. I spent years in children’s services, the police, and later education—three very different worlds, but all centred around human connection.

In children’s services and education, I learned how to hold space for families, listen without judgement, and guide people with patience and understanding. I saw the strength of children, the resilience of parents, and the healing power of simply being heard.

Working in the police added new depth to those skills. It taught me calm under pressure, clarity in crisis, and how to be present and professional even in moments filled with grief or fear.

I didn’t know it at the time, but every one of those roles was preparing me quietly, steadily, compassionately for the work I do now.

The Moment Everything Changed

Despite all my experience, I eventually reached a point where the pressure and emotional load became overwhelming. I found myself dragging my feet each morning, exhausted before the day even began.

Then, last year, my sister was diagnosed with cancer.

Everything shifted.

Life suddenly felt fragile, precious, and sharply in focus. I realised how short it really is—far too short to spend day after day in work that left me depleted.

What struck me hardest was the example I was setting for my boys. Was I showing them the kind of life I wanted for them?

A life where you push through misery, stress, and exhaustion because you think you have no other choice?

The answer was no.

And that clarity changed everything.

Taking the Chance

Becoming a celebrant wasn’t a sudden decision. It was a gentle, persistent calling that grew louder with time.

As I began learning about celebrancy, something clicked. Celebrants create personalised ceremonies that honour life, love, and loss in deeply meaningful ways. It felt like the natural extension of everything I’d done before—but with a new, profound purpose.

Leaving a familiar career path was frightening. But the desire to do work that nourished my soul and allowed me to support others in a deeply personal way was stronger than the fear.

So I stepped forward.

I trained, learned, observed, wrote, and eventually stood before my first family, heart full and hands steady.

And I knew: this is where I’m meant to be.

Why I Love Being a Celebrant

Every day in this work feels like a privilege. Here are just a few of the reasons why:

Connection with families-I meet people in vulnerable, tender moments. Helping them express what matters most—and hearing the stories that made their loved one who they were is an honour I never take for granted.
Creating meaningful ceremonies- No two ceremonies are the same. Each one is crafted from scratch, shaped by memories, stories, rituals, and moments that reflect a unique and irreplaceable life.
Supporting healing- Funerals and memorials are not only goodbyes—they are spaces for healing, reflection, and togetherness. Being part of that process is deeply fulfilling.
Using my skills in new and powerful ways- Everything I learned throughout my career—care, communication, resilience, presence—now comes together in a way that serves families at their most important moments.

How I Prepare for Each Ceremony

Preparation is at the heart of what I do.

Listening deeply : I take time to truly understand the person being honoured—their character, their loves, their quirks, their legacy.
Writing personally: Every ceremony is written from scratch, weaving together stories, poems, music, readings, and rituals that resonate.
Practising and refining: I rehearse the ceremony to ensure it flows beautifully and feels natural.
Being present on the day: On the day itself, I bring calm, clarity, and compassion—guiding the ceremony with warmth and respect.

Lessons Learned Along the Way

This journey continues to teach me:

Every story matters — no life is too small or too ordinary to be celebrated.
Flexibility is essential — grief looks different for every family, and honouring that is important.
Self-care is vital—to support others, I must also support myself.

A Message for Anyone Considering Change

If you feel stuck or unfulfilled, I hope my story reminds you that change is possible. Meaningful work exists—you may just need to look at your skills in a new light.

Think about what brings you purpose. What fills your heart? What kind of work would make you proud?

Sometimes, taking a chance on yourself opens doors you never knew were waiting.

Choosing Celebrancy transformed my life

It brought my skills, my values, and my heart together in a way that feels deeply right.

Most importantly, it allows me to stand with families in moments that matter—honouring lives with dignity, tenderness, and love.

And I can’t imagine doing anything else.

A Career Built Around People

Before becoming a celebrant, my entire working life revolved around care, safeguarding, communication, and supporting people through difficult times. I spent years in children’s services, the police, and later education—three very different worlds, but all centred around human connection.

In children’s services and education, I learned how to hold space for families, listen without judgement, and guide people with patience and understanding. I saw the strength of children, the resilience of parents, and the healing power of simply being heard.

Working in the police added new depth to those skills. It taught me calm under pressure, clarity in crisis, and how to be present and professional even in moments filled with grief or fear.

I didn’t know it at the time, but every one of those roles was preparing me quietly, steadily, compassionately for the work I do now.

The Moment Everything Changed

Despite all my experience, I eventually reached a point where the pressure and emotional load became overwhelming. I found myself dragging my feet each morning, exhausted before the day even began.

Then, last year, my sister was diagnosed with cancer.

Everything shifted.

Life suddenly felt fragile, precious, and sharply in focus. I realised how short it really is—far too short to spend day after day in work that left me depleted.

What struck me hardest was the example I was setting for my boys. Was I showing them the kind of life I wanted for them?

A life where you push through misery, stress, and exhaustion because you think you have no other choice?

The answer was no.

And that clarity changed everything.

Taking the Chance

Becoming a celebrant wasn’t a sudden decision. It was a gentle, persistent calling that grew louder with time.

As I began learning about celebrancy, something clicked. Celebrants create personalised ceremonies that honour life, love, and loss in deeply meaningful ways. It felt like the natural extension of everything I’d done before—but with a new, profound purpose.

Leaving a familiar career path was frightening. But the desire to do work that nourished my soul and allowed me to support others in a deeply personal way was stronger than the fear.

So I stepped forward.

I trained, learned, observed, wrote, and eventually stood before my first family, heart full and hands steady.

And I knew: this is where I’m meant to be.

Why I Love Being a Celebrant

Every day in this work feels like a privilege. Here are just a few of the reasons why:

Connection with families-I meet people in vulnerable, tender moments. Helping them express what matters most—and hearing the stories that made their loved one who they were is an honour I never take for granted.

Creating meaningful ceremonies- No two ceremonies are the same. Each one is crafted from scratch, shaped by memories, stories, rituals, and moments that reflect a unique and irreplaceable life.

Supporting healing- Funerals and memorials are not only goodbyes—they are spaces for healing, reflection, and togetherness. Being part of that process is deeply fulfilling.

Using my skills in new and powerful ways- Everything I learned throughout my career—care, communication, resilience, presence—now comes together in a way that serves families at their most important moments.

How I Prepare for Each Ceremony

Preparation is at the heart of what I do.

Listening deeply : I take time to truly understand the person being honoured—their character, their loves, their quirks, their legacy.

Writing personally: Every ceremony is written from scratch, weaving together stories, poems, music, readings, and rituals that resonate.

Practising and refining: I rehearse the ceremony to ensure it flows beautifully and feels natural.

Being present on the day: On the day itself, I bring calm, clarity, and compassion—guiding the ceremony with warmth and respect.

Lessons Learned Along the Way

This journey continues to teach me:

Every story matters — no life is too small or too ordinary to be celebrated.

Flexibility is essential — grief looks different for every family, and honouring that is important.

Self-care is vital—to support others, I must also support myself.

A Message for Anyone Considering Change

If you feel stuck or unfulfilled, I hope my story reminds you that change is possible. Meaningful work exists—you may just need to look at your skills in a new light.

Think about what brings you purpose. What fills your heart? What kind of work would make you proud?

Sometimes, taking a chance on yourself opens doors you never knew were waiting.

Choosing Celebrancy transformed my life

It brought my skills, my values, and my heart together in a way that feels deeply right.

Most importantly, it allows me to stand with families in moments that matter—honouring lives with dignity, tenderness, and love.

And I can’t imagine doing anything else.

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