From Hospitality to Healing – How the Pandemic Pushed Me Into My Purpose
- Sep 16, 2025
- 5 min read
Written by Lorraine Kenlock, Holistic Psychotherapist
Lorraine Kenlock is a Turks & Caicos-based psychotherapist specializing in trauma, ADHD, and mind-body nutrition. With advanced training in EMDR and somatic therapies, she helps clients across the Caribbean heal through culturally-attuned online and in-person sessions."
There are moments in life that divide your story into two parts, before and after. One of those defining moments came for me during the pandemic, a global event that brought the hospitality industry to a standstill and forced me to reckon with an identity I had carried for years. I had lived multiple professional lives, as a chef, a luxury villa manager, a tourism board executive, and quietly, a student of healing.
But when the world paused, it also whispered. And in the silence, I heard a truth I had buried under titles and to-do lists, you’re allowed to pivot. What came next wasn’t just reinvention. It was a homecoming.
This is the story of leaving the hospitality industry, not because I failed but because I evolved, and how I chose to walk fully into my purpose as a psychotherapist and wellness entrepreneur.
The rise of Chef Lorraine
Before I was known as a therapist, I was known as Chef Lorraine, a name that carried weight in the kitchens and dining rooms of some of the Caribbean’s most refined spaces. My journey into food was more than passion, it was a legacy. I cooked with intention, with love, and with an intuitive awareness that food heals.
Being a chef was an identity I wore proudly. It was creative and expressive but also demanding. I wasn’t just designing meals, I was designing experiences, memories, and rituals. My Caribbean roots infused every dish, and my desire to nurture people shaped every plate. The kitchen was both my sanctuary and my battleground.
And yet, even at the height of my culinary career, I sensed something more profound stirring. I loved the nourishment of food, but I also wanted to nourish in other ways. The emotional weight I held in conversations, the quiet intuition that someone needed more than a meal, pointed toward a future I couldn’t yet name.
Letting go of “Chef Lorraine” wasn’t a rejection. It was a conscious release, a choice to expand rather than remain defined by a single expression of care.
From kitchen to leadership: Managing luxury villas
After transitioning out of the kitchen, I stepped into a new chapter of hospitality leadership, managing luxury villas. This wasn’t just a job, it was an immersive experience in top-tier guest service, operational management, and community building.
I brought my culinary detail and warmth into a broader role, overseeing property care, managing client expectations, staffing, event coordination, and ensuring every stay was both luxurious and deeply personal. Managing luxury villas refined my leadership skills and deepened my appreciation for the emotional labour that often underpins hospitality.
My work extended beyond the property itself. I also took on a role as a Board Director with the Turks & Caicos Hotel and Tourism Association, where I worked alongside other leaders to elevate tourism standards across the region, advocate for local staff development, and contribute to national-level strategies for sustainable tourism growth.
I was proud of the work. I believed in the vision. But I was also tired emotionally, physically, and spiritually. The pace was relentless. The performance was unending. And behind the success, I felt a tug, is this still where I belong?
The pandemic shift
When the pandemic hit, everything changed. Bookings stopped. Borders closed. Luxury became irrelevant. For the first time in years, there were no guests to welcome, no schedules to keep, no industry events to attend.
At first, I tried to stay in control, strategising, planning, waiting for the return. But eventually, the quiet got louder, and with that, the quiet brought clarity.
I realised I wasn’t just grieving the loss of work, I was confronting the misalignment I had long ignored. I had built a respected identity in hospitality. But somewhere along the way, I had silenced other parts of myself, parts that wanted to slow down, to go deeper, to hold space in a different way.
The calling that never left
Throughout my hospitality journey, I had quietly nurtured my curiosity about the mind, the body, and the process of healing. I had studied trauma. I had trained in somatic therapies. I had explored nutritional psychology, attachment theory, and ancestral healing. I had already begun practising, seeing a handful of clients in my spare time.
But I had never let that work take centre stage until now.
With the world on pause, I had space to choose. And I decided on myself.
From luxury service to nervous system healing
What I quickly discovered is that I hadn’t truly left hospitality, I had transformed it.
I still create experiences, but now they are experiences of deep nervous system repair. I still anticipate needs, but now I do it through somatic attunement. I still design spaces, but instead of five-star villas, I curate trauma-informed environments that restore safety and belonging.
My clients, many of whom are leaders, caregivers, or burned-out professionals, come to me not for check-ins, but for check-ins with themselves. And I meet them not with scripts or protocols, but with presence.
I bring everything I learned from hospitality into the healing space, the ability to read a room, the capacity to regulate under pressure, and the skill of creating a sanctuary under stress.
But now, I do it in the service of wholeness, not performance.
The integration of my identities
I am no longer just Chef Lorraine. I’m not the villa manager. I’m not the face of a tourism board. I’m a somatic psychotherapist, a trauma-informed coach, and a wellness entrepreneur, but all those past roles live in me.
I now teach clients how to use food not just for pleasure, but for nervous system support. I curate retreats that blend Ayurvedic nutrition, EMDR-informed therapy, bodywork, and Caribbean warmth. I light candles and brew teas not out of habit, but as part of nervous system co-regulation. I speak on leadership panels not just about business, but about burnout, compassion fatigue, and sustainable success.
My entire life’s work has integrated into one ecosystem, healing through hospitality, and hospitality through healing.
Letting go of who I was, welcoming who I am
Was it hard to walk away? Absolutely.
There were days when I mourned the structure, the recognition, the familiarity. I missed my staff. I missed being "known." I even missed the chaos sometimes. But every time a client told me they slept through the night for the first time in months, every time someone wept safely in my office, every time I guided a retreat guest back to joy, I knew I had chosen right.
Leaving hospitality wasn’t a failure. It was a fulfilment of a deeper calling.
To those being forced to pivot
If you’re reading this and wondering whether you, too, can let go of a title you’ve outgrown, let me say this.
You are allowed to change. You are allowed to evolve. The things you’ve built aren’t wasted, they become ingredients in a new recipe for your life. Being forced out isn’t the end. Sometimes, it’s the start of the most honest chapter of your life.
Redefining legacy
Today, I lead a practice grounded in evidence-based psychotherapy, trauma integration, and somatic restoration. But my legacy also includes meals served with love, villas prepared with intention, and tourism policies shaped by care.
I bring it all with me. And I wouldn’t trade this chapter for any title I left behind.
Read more from Lorraine Kenlock
Lorraine Kenlock, Holistic Psychotherapist
Lorraine Kenlock is a psychotherapist specializing in trauma, ADHD, and the mind-body connection, with a unique focus on Caribbean mental health. Blending EMDR, nutritional psychology, and culturally attuned therapy, she helps clients heal from chronic pain, grief, and shame—both in Turks & Caicos and online. Her groundbreaking work bridges island traditions with modern neuroscience, offering a fresh perspective on resilience.
