

From nurse to garden designer | How to turn your passion into a career
After a decade on the NHS frontline, Laura Ridgway-Grace found herself burned out and seeking solace in her garden. She reflects on leaving nursing to retrain in horticulture – and how designing restorative green spaces allowed her care for others, and herself, to take root in a different way.
It was the height of summer, and life was slowly easing after the second wave of the pandemic. Only then could I admit I was burned out – physically yes, but far more profoundly mentally. The NHS was being stretched beyond anything I had ever witnessed, capacity pushed to its limits, life-saving equipment scarce and specialist skills redirected wherever they were needed most. As a cardiac specialist nurse, I was redeployed repeatedly, stepping into areas under immense pressure and bringing my expertise to support teams who were equally exhausted.
Burned out and seeking solace
During the most incredibly difficult period in my nursing career, I found myself instinctively turning to the natural world, seeking a moment of calm. The garden became a place where my mind could soften, a place to breathe, to reflect and to process the morbidity I was facing day after day. Ten years into nursing, the emotional weight was overwhelming, and my own wellbeing had quietly slipped down my list of priorities. What I didn’t realise then was that those moments of stillness outdoors – sowing seeds, tending to my plants and reconnecting with nature – had already begun to plant something deeper within me.
Discovering horticulture
Like many others, I did not think of horticulture as a career. Curious and searching for a new outlet, I enrolled on a weekend horticulture course with the Royal Horticultural Society. I am thankful that the course allowed me to study alongside full-time nursing. Until then, everything that had thrived in my garden was a result of trial and error. I wanted to understand why certain plant combinations worked together and how soil types affected the way plants were able to not simply survive but thrive.
The course helped my knowledge sharpen and helped me connect the dots between theory and practice. The more time I spent immersed in nature, the more I became aware of how generations of intervention have impacted wildlife and the wider environment. It was during this period that I realised my pull towards horticulture was not about abandoning care, it was about allowing it to evolve. I wasn’t stepping away from a caring profession but shifting the focus of what and who I cared for.
From nurse to garden designer
Today, I design and develop spaces that reconnect people with the natural world. Something I first experienced myself when I discovered how deeply healing nature can be, both physically and emotionally. That realisation became the heart of my decision to pursue my horticulture and take the leap of faith into a new career. Soon after completing my course with The Royal Horticultural Society, I went on to study Garden Design at the The English Gardening School, followed by an organic gardening course.
Four years later, I run a thriving business centred around education, consultancy and designing spaces that are rooted in sustainability and connecting people with nature. Although I no longer practice as a nurse, my passion for the impact that gardens have on our mental health and wellbeing remains at the core of everything I do.
Of course, starting a new career brought imposter syndrome along for the ride. However, as time went on, my confidence grew. My courses gave me the validation I needed, not just in my knowledge but in my ability to build a future. At the start of my journey, I made a decision to document everything I was learning. I was genuinely amazed by how many people online were reaching out, showing interest in what I was pursuing. It quickly became clear that so many others were considering pursuing a second career but didn’t quite know how to begin.
I wanted to share the highs and the lows, to show just how challenging, yet utterly transformative, it can be to leave a stable career and step into the unknown. My hope was that by documenting the realities, I could reassure others standing where I once stood.
Lessons learned
It is easy to sit back now and reflect on how far I have come, but of course there were moments of doubt. Following your passion can be messy, disorganised and full of moments where you question everything, including yourself. Handing in my notice, donning my nursing uniform for the last time, and facing the uncertainty of new income were all challenges I had to navigate. Nursing offered stability. Horticulture, at the beginning, did not. I had to learn to trust the journey, believing that the skills I was building would eventually support me.
The whole experience was humbling. I had gone from being highly specialised and educating in cardiology to starting again from the ground up. I had to accept that I didn’t need to stay in a career simply because it made sense or I was good at it. Rebuilding myself in a new profession that aligned with my creativity, was essential for my mental wellbeing. Gardening gave me back my sense of self, for that I am grateful every single day.
So, is following your passion all it is made out to be? In my case yes, absolutely. Passion gives you your sense of purpose in life. For a long time, medicine and healing others defined me, but passion shows you where your energy naturally wants to flow. It was passion that gave me the strength to tolerate the identity shift, the financial wobbles and everything in between.
Yes, pursue your wildest dreams, but remember that passion does not remove the discomfort. It simply becomes the reason you keep going. If I can reassure you of anything, it is that it will all be worth it. Sharing my journey, wildly helped me feel connected, it helped me vocalise daily why I was doing it and helped me to continue on my journey.
If I compare my life now to when I was a nurse, the contrast is striking. Back then my life was dictated by shift patterns, constant pressures and emergencies. Today, my worked is still rooted in care, but it’s gentler. I move at a pace that honours my wellbeing. I create spaces that heal rather than environments filled with chaos and urgency. I help people reconnect that something that restores them, naturally. My sense of purpose remains, but the way I live has transformed entirely. I can honestly say I am much happier, I feel lighter and more aligned. I wake up excited about my projects rather than drained. Happiness is different for everyone. For me, it's fresh air, muddy hands and a life rooted in the rhythms of nature.






















