From Probation Officer to Hypnotherapist: My Story

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This is the story of how I went from probation officer to hypnotherapist. Don’t expect a straight line, but like for many in the profession, my journey began with my own experience. 

“Where do you want to do your work experience?” the careers adviser asked in 1992. I said the probation office — part social, part law — and, accordingly, I spent a fortnight at the Wolverhampton Probation Office shadowing an officer called Mike. I watched him present to court, heard how relationships sit at the heart of change and was given a thrilling job: filing “dead” case files. I read everything: risk factors, family webs, scribbled margin notes. Inappropriate curiosity for a 14-year-old? Absolutely. But that fortnight set my life course.

At university, I studied Psychology and Criminology and volunteered at the Probation Homeless Unit on Minshull Street, Manchester. There I met the reality behind acronyms: people managing mental ill-health, substance use, domestic abuse and homelessness. The painful truth that someone can be both victim and offender was brought into stark reality, and the desire to do the work only deepened.

My first post was as a PSO on the Derby court team. I quickly understood the court doesn’t pause because you’re new; clarity under pressure is expected. That year taught me how the wider system views probation and why our voice matters, given the high stakes.

I then joined the trainee probation officer programme in South-West London (2000–02), supported by a Practice Development Assessor and a sharp mentor. I learned to slow down my thinking before committing it to OASys and to value skilful conversations as much as any tool. London was rich professionally but thin socially, so I returned to the Midlands, practising in Walsall, Wolverhampton, and Sandwell courts team, before landing in the West Bromwich Public Protection Team.

Under my line manager’s reflective leadership, I learned to arrive with options, not just problems, and to deepen my practices and defensible decisions. Those years gave me colleagues who became lifelong friends and a deep respect for multi-agency work, the kind where objectives are shared, not traded. You can take the woman out of probation, but not probation out of the woman, and I certainly continue to use these skills even now.

From probation officer to hypnotherapist: the turning point

Life pulled me south again, this time as an SPO for substance misuse and PPO in Thames Valley. New patch, no social ties, and another steep curve. I helped build an IOM team and strengthened partnerships with the police and drug services. As the team grew, so did my overwhelm. I gripped tighter, micro-managing to feel in control, which (predictably) had the opposite effect. My confidence dipped. Eventually, I was signed off for around three months with work-related stress.

HSE’s most recent figures show 964,000 UK workers reported work-related stress, depression or anxiety in 2024/25 — my three months off wasn’t an isolated failure; it was a pattern playing out across the workforce, and you read about it in my blog on burnout and public protection. Returning felt both shameful and disorienting; the role had shifted while I was away.

Meanwhile, I was going through fertility treatment. Pregnancy brought joy and new fear, then the unthinkable: my son arrived three months early, just as the service was being carved into two under the ill-fated Transforming Rehabilitation strategy. I’m still not sure which felt more chaotic: neonatal intensive care or the reorganisation. When maternity leave ended, I was torn between a career I loved and a medically complex baby who needed me.  I resigned.

The relief was real; so was the void. I’d fused my identity with my job, and grief came in layers: work I wouldn’t do again, a purpose I thought I’d lost, people I would miss. We moved back to the Midlands, and two years later, our daughter arrived. After her birth, I fell into severe postnatal depression. One day, after an isolating, emotional afternoon, I found myself at the nearest train station and knew something had to change.

CBT didn’t suit me, but hypnotherapy did. Within months, I felt present again, and the freedom it gave me enabled me to realise I was steady enough to retrain. In 2018, I qualified as a solution-focused hypnotherapist. Today, I support high-performing professionals with burnout and high-functioning anxiety. I’ve worked with individuals, small businesses and public sector bodies, including West Midlands Police and the NPCC. I adore the work. I also miss the sense of belonging to probation, and both can be true.

The very nature of probation work is taxing and unlikely to change. It’s essential to do as much as you can to contribute to your own wellbeing. My advice to any trainee or newly qualified officer is to develop and maintain healthy boundaries in the workplace — take your lunch break (put it in the diary), give yourself 10 minutes between appointments (I fully appreciate this may not be feasible every day, but try). One simple, evidence-backed tool worth building into those gaps: a meta-analysis of randomised controlled trials found that breathwork measurably reduces stress — even 90 seconds of slow, controlled breathing between appointments can shift your nervous system out of high alert. Also try to ensure you have strong bonds and connections outside of work to replenish energy, so you can be as effective as possible in the workplace. A career in probation is a wonderful opportunity; it is likely to teach you so much, and like me, you never know where it may springboard you to in later years.

I didn’t leave the greater mission of supporting people to change. I changed my role in it. Probation taught me to be human and boundaried at the same time, to trust that small, steady actions often do more good than grand gestures — persistence and trying to do the right thing pays off. If that’s the only thing you take from this, it’s enough.

If you’re navigating burnout, whether in probation or another high-pressure role, book a free consultation — I understand this from both sides of the desk.

Asha Berzon is a former probation professional and founder of mindAbility. She’s a hypnotherapist, breathwork coach, and CPD-accredited trainer specialising in trauma-aware workplace wellbeing and burnout prevention for public sector teams.

This piece also appears in Probation Quarterly, the Probation Institute’s professional journal, which is published under an open-access licence. 

Last updated: 8 July 2026