Teacher to Celebrant
If you are anything like me (aka doomscrolling at 2am because it is TOO HOT RIGHT NOW) you may have seen the articles and reports:
Everyone, and their Mum, is becoming a celebrant!
Why are Millennial women obsessed with becoming celebrants?
Love cats? Have ADHD? Maybe a bit spiritual? Congratulations, you’ll make a perfect celebrant.
It still makes me smile that celebrants — a job I didn’t even know existed until October 2025 — seem to be everywhere now. We’re popping up at wedding fayres, filling social feeds, and even leading ceremonies at festivals like Download and Glastonbury. Bridebook called celebrants the fastest‑growing wedding trend of 2024; apparently everybody (and their mums) wants one. For the first time in my life, I’m officially cool.
I don’t know if you’ve ever had that moment where the algorithm just… hits. I couldn’t tell you what I’d been watching or liking or saving, but suddenly my feed was full of celebrants. The Academy of Modern Celebrants. My beloved Match and Dispatch — who I eventually trained with, and genuinely the best decision I’ve ever made. Local celebrants with their gorgeous ceremonies and outrageous fashion. Every day, another glimpse into this world I didn’t know existed.
What was this job? And how did I get in?
For 19 years I worked in education as an English teacher, mostly with KS4 students preparing for their GCSEs. Like all jobs, it had its hard days, but I loved the spark of exploring new worlds with young people — challenging their thinking and letting them challenge mine. English had always been my favourite subject. I was that child who read constantly, even when I wasn’t supposed to. The biggest trouble I ever got into was when my Maths teacher caught me (again) reading under the desk. She lost her temper spectacularly, sat me right at the front, and rang my parents.
Didn’t stop me reading though.
Over time that love of stories and how they work, how they move us, how they shape us, grew into a career. Teaching felt like the right place for it. But nineteen years is a long time to do anything, even something you love. And teaching is part of an institution that needs deep reform, for young people, for parents, and for teachers. So I spent two years quietly looking for something else, something that would light me up again. Nothing did. I just felt increasingly frustrated that I wasn’t living a life that fit me anymore.
And then: boom. Celebrancy. The idea of telling people’s stories — their love stories, their life stories, their goodbye stories — lit a fire in me so bright I couldn’t ignore it.
This year I trained with the award‑winning Kate and Kate Celebrants, had my first short story published with April Showers Publishing, and began reaching out to my community to help them tell their stories.
I bring two decades of writing, performing, and public speaking to your ceremony. If I can get a rowdy, belligerent, grumpy Year 10 group of boys to perform Shakespeare on a rainy Friday afternoon, there is nothing about your ceremony I cannot handle.
I’ve sat with children and parents for years, I’ve laughed with them, cried with them, had difficult conversations and bizarre ones. I’ve dealt with tragedy and joy on a daily basis. There is nothing about your story, your situation, or your person that will throw me. It is my honour and privilege to write and deliver your ceremony in whatever way suits it best. There is no right or wrong way — only yours. My job is to bring that to life.
I’ll write the script, but you have complete control over the content. If something doesn’t feel quite right, or you change your mind, that’s absolutely fine. We work on it until it feels like you. Your life. Your stories. Your way.
So please get in touch. You deserve someone passionate and dedicated to good storytelling to tell the best one: yours.
Be well!