Ana I never set out to create *Rebellious Joy Counselling*. I never imagined that the moments that shattered me would also be the ones to shape me. But life has a way of unraveling us before weaving us into something new. And this is my story of unraveling—of breaking, of surrendering, and of finally finding my way back to joy.
It started with love—the kind of love that asks everything of you. My elderly parents needed me, and I gave them all that I had. At the same time, my son was stepping into high school, and I was completing my university degree. Life was full, demanding, and stretching me in every direction. And then, the world changed. COVID happened.
Suddenly, life became heavier. My father fell critically ill with sepsis—twice. My mother’s health declined rapidly. And before I could catch my breath, I found myself walking them through their end-of-life journey in the most isolating of times. There were no soft goodbyes, no gentle transitions. My mother passed first. My father followed in 2022. I grieved them both while trying to hold everything else together—my new job, my family, myself.
And then, I had to say goodbye again. Selling my childhood home, sifting through their belongings—each object a piece of a life now gone. I held their memories in my hands, unsure of what to keep and what to let go. It felt like I was unraveling, piece by piece. And just when I thought there could be no more weight to bear, my husband underwent three major surgeries. My body and mind screamed for rest, but life kept demanding more.
We moved to a new home, and for a brief moment, I tried to breathe. I took a trip, hoping to feel something again. But when I returned, my body collapsed in exhaustion. I became sick—so sick that for six months, I was forced to stop. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t know if I would recover. The strength I had always trusted in myself felt unreachable. The fighter in me had no fight left.
So, I did the only thing I could—I sat in stillness. I spent hours on my swing chair, staring at the sky, searching for answers in the clouds. My son left for university, and the house felt too quiet, too empty. I had spent so many years caring for others. And now, I had no idea who I was without that role. What was left of me? Where did I go from here?
And then, one day, I stood up. I walked. Slowly at first, then a little further each time. I listened—to my body, to my heart, to the whispers that I had long ignored. I started to care for myself in ways that once felt impossible. It wasn’t easy. It felt unnatural. I had always been the caregiver, not the care receiver. But in that space of surrender, I learned something powerful: healing isn’t about going back to who we were. It’s about becoming who we were always meant to be.
Little by little, I started listening to myself again. I leaned into the things that brought me back to life—small joys, quiet moments, the rebellious act of choosing myself when the world demanded otherwise. And through that, was the moment I knew my purpose. That was when *Rebellious Joy Counselling* was born.
Because I know what it feels like to be lost in transition. To give so much of yourself that you no longer recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror. To wonder if joy is even possible after so much loss. It took hitting that wall—hitting it—for me to see I needed a change. I couldn’t keep living on autopilot, pretending I had it all together.
And now, I help midlife women—caregivers, women in transition, women who have held everything together—find their way back. To themselves. To life. To joy. Not the kind of joy that asks you to ignore your pain. The kind that sits beside it, honors it, and still chooses to move forward.
At Rebellious Joy Counselling, I offer a space where you can breathe, where you can be honest about what’s hard, and where we can find the sparks of joy that keep you going. I’ve been the caregiver, the overachiever, the one who didn’t know how to say no. I’ve felt the weight of expectations and the ache of burnout. And I’ve come out the other side—not perfect, but stronger and ready to walk with you through whatever you’re facing.
I’m not here to tell you I’ve figured it all out. I’m still on this journey, just like you. But what I’ve learned—from midlife reckonings, from sickness and loss, from carrying too much for too long—is that joy isn’t something you wait for. It’s something you fight for, something you create, even in the messiest seasons. That’s what I want to help you do.
So, if you’re ready to rebel against the chaos and reclaim your joy, I’m here. Let’s figure it out together. Because reclaiming joy is not just a choice—it is an act of courage. Of rebellion. Of coming home to yourself. And I am here to walk this path with you.
With love and a little rebellion,
Ana
