I didn’t come to funeral celebrancy through a career plan. I came to it through experience — my own, and other people’s.

In 2009, I delivered the eulogy at my mother’s funeral. She had died after a long illness, and I wanted to be able to celebrate the woman she was — for the ceremony to feel joyful as well as sad, and to say something true about who she was and what she meant to the people who loved her.

In the years that followed, I was asked to speak at funerals for close friends. Each time, I found myself doing the same thing — listening carefully, gathering the details that made that person themselves, and shaping something that felt honest and real.

What I noticed, every time, was the difference it made. A ceremony that reflects a life truthfully and with care can help people to grieve, to remember, and to feel that the person they loved has been properly seen and honoured.

That is what drew me to humanist celebrancy. Not just the absence of religion, but the presence of something real — a ceremony shaped entirely around the person who has died, without a fixed script or borrowed words.

Through this, I became involved with Humanists UK, the organisation that trains and supports humanist celebrants, and whose values closely reflect my own approach.

I now also serve as a Trustee and Director of Humanists UK, which gives me a close connection to the standards, values and good practice that underpin humanist ceremonies.

I have experienced this from both sides. I understand what it feels like to want to get it right for someone you love, and to carry that responsibility. That understanding shapes how I work with every family I support.