Gestalt Psychotherapy and systemic coaching
Hi, my name is Ana Jankulovska, and I am a UK-based Gestalt Psychotherapist and systemic coach. In my practice, I focus on the field of relational trauma and maximizing potential through healing.
My clients navigate complex life changes in partnerships, family life, and the workplace. I also work with expats adapting to new cultures and leaders navigating the complex inner world of competing needs and desires.
My work centres on exploring how early relational dynamics in our primary family shape our perception and relationships in adulthood. By learning and healing from these early experiences, we can create richer, more fulfilling life experiences now.
More about me
I was born and raised in Macedonia, which has given me the opportunity to blend the best of British values with Macedonian culture. I graduated as a Gestalt Psychotherapist in 2018 and am accredited by the EAGT (European Association for Gestalt Therapy). Currently, I am studying for an MSc in Gestalt Psychotherapy at Metanoia University London, leading to UKCP accreditation (expected in 2026).
I have navigated complex life changes myself, including career transitions, moving to a new country, partnerships, motherhood, and family life, all while working through personal relational trauma. This is why I feel committed to working with my clients with dedication, compassion, and ethical presence, offering a space for healing and exploration that fosters profound transformation.
How we can work together
I offer one-on-one sessions both online and in person. I have office space in Kensington London and Milton Keynes. You can contact me at [email protected], share your contact details, and I will get back to you within 2-3 days with any information you need about the process.
Out of a personal and deeply exploratory period a book was born.
Parts of my book Heal and Lead
Resistances to change
To navigate the process of change truly requires us to tune in and stay present to our
experience without judgment. Imagine if you could suspend all personal judgment, be kind to
yourself, and observe and welcome all aspects of your internal world.
You will notice many different forces pulling you in various directions. There are the winds of
hope and faith in what is about to emerge, the excitement of newness, the sadness of letting
go of your old self or a situation, the longing for what was, the fear of the unknown, doubt,
guilt for cutting others' expectations, and even shame as we experiment with new behaviors.
By entering the process of becoming, I’m no longer what I was. What I was, even though
eager to let it go, was a place from which I lived my life. It is familiar and known, and it is not
easy to let go, but it is outgrown, no longer comfortable, and the urge to move cannot be
undone. I’m no longer there, nor am I in the new, but in a space between—the liminal space
of making.
I like to use the term "cooking" to describe this liminal space. It is like a kitchen where I cook.
I cook all sorts of things: I'm cooking my future, spiced by emotions, adding bits of the past,
and using the helping hand of those around me. Cooking is the metaphor I like to use for the
transformative process of my body and mind adapting to the new persona I’m about to
become. Sometimes it takes years, sometimes just a few days, but for sure, life's biggest
transformations do take time.
When cooking, we negotiate with ourselves around the life situation and change we are
headed toward. Should I? Could I? Can I? Am I allowed? Is this normal? Do I want this? I
don't think this is necessary.. and other thoughts. One major theme often comes up in the
form of: the situation is not right, management is not allowing me, they... them... that is
preventing me...
We project our power onto circumstances and people and form a process of resistance to
change. Resistance to change encompasses all the “excuses” of why we should not
embrace change or fully step into our new persona. Some resistances are clear to us and
we are aware of them, while others are more subtle and we truly believe them, making them
unconscious resistances.
Make no mistake—all resistances are valid. They keep us safe and carry a message or a
story. We stay with resistance, acknowledge it, and hear the message it brings. Only then
can we disarm it and transform it into support. Only then can we truly take responsibility for
our actions and drive our inner change.
The best way to capture resistance is to notice and name it. A good place to start is the
emotional field. We capture the “difficult emotions,” and they become our gateway to our
resistance
Default Position from Early Childhood: The Main Wound
We all have our default position—make no mistake, it exists within each of us. It’s like a whisper that constantly touches our being, no matter how far we’ve come in our adult lives. In adulthood, we take on many roles: parent, employee, partner, friend, colleague. Each of these roles requires an internal persona to guide how we show up and interact with the world. The quality of this persona depends on our ability to be aware of what is needed both for ourselves and others, and to mobilize our energy accordingly. Through these roles, we connect with others and form relationships, giving and taking, nurturing ourselves and others, and together creating value that surpasses individual contributions.
The process of relating has its own quality, yet we are rarely taught how to relate to one another beyond our own instincts, job descriptions, or work expectations. Naturally, we default to our habitual position when relating to others, influenced by the system dynamics we function in and, particularly, by how the other person is engaging. If the environment or situation evokes uncertainty and fear, reminding us (often unconsciously) of past experiences, we activate internal defenses, and we feel, think, relate, and act from the default position of our main wound.
If we can recognize this regression and bring it into our consciousness, we can activate inner self-support by asking ourselves: Who am I at this moment? What does this emotion represent? What story is unfolding for me? And reaffirm: I am an adult, and I have choices and abilities.
The Immigrant Wound
To leave home is a broad statement. The word "home" is loaded with meaning when considered in this context. When we ask people where home is, we receive a variety of cognitive responses. Yet, to truly express what home is can be challenging because home is more than a physical place; it's a feeling.
I propose interpreting home as a feeling of belonging—a deep sense of certainty, like knowing a secret that no one else knows, a sense of entitlement and pride, comfort, grace, and a carefree innocence.
Think about when you felt these feelings. Did you experience some or all of them at once?
We were able to be loud, protected, and innocent not just by the containment of a house, but by the loving presence of our mothers when we were young children. These first feelings of home are connected to our initial home—the womb of our mother. There is no place on earth more safe and secure than our first place in physical form. The moment we are born, we encounter the harsh reality of the outside world. We sense discomfort and uncertainty as we take our early steps into this new world. While we still have the loving presence of our mothers, we become aware of the ever-changing environment around us....Our birth country is where we first encounter ourselves, projecting our feelings onto the environment, including the people and surroundings. It’s the ground we first fell on while chasing each other as children, the same ground that caught us during our falls. It’s the predictable sky, the early mornings, the sunrises, the rains, and the sun that shaped our joy and play. We all share the same laughter, tears, and stories within our motherland.
The motherland provided us with joy and a sense of belonging without us having to earn it. We were part of her, her children, and she facilitated our lives beyond our parents, offering us a space to explore and experience life independently. We spoke the same mother tongue, and expressing our needs felt effortless. We were seen and heard just as we were.
However, as we grow, we begin to experience the polarity within this sense of belonging. We may notice the flaws of our motherland—the unfair treatment at school, the first realizations of our parents' weaknesses, or the mistreatment from those around us. The place that once felt most safe may now seem disappointing, and we face the painful realization that our cherished motherland is not as perfect as we once believed. We learn to love and feel secure in our motherland while also grappling with the pain of its betrayals....