About Ann Marie Mackey Well-Being

"For as long as I can remember, I've been drawn to adventure, nature, movement — and fiercely staying true to myself. 

I grew up in the rugged beauty of St. John’s, Newfoundland — where open skies, wind-swept trails and rocky shorelines shaped my love of nature.  It's where I learned to meet life’s challenges head-on. 

Most of my childhood was spent outdoors: hiking, swimming, biking, skiing, building snow forts and climbing trees with my dad, who passed down his deep love of the land. Those wild landscapes became my first teachers — helping me build resilience, find calm and feel at home in my body. They also laid the foundation for a way of living and healing I’d return to again and again. 

From Corporate Success to Personal Rupture 

After graduating with honours in Computer Studies, I moved to Alberta as a young single mom. Over the next 25 years, I built a successful corporate career across multiple provinces and industries — including IT, energy, transportation and education. I led complex projects and drove high-performance outcomes in male-dominated fields, fueled by excellence, grit and vision. 

And then, my life shattered. 

On December 1, 2009, my beautiful 18-year-old son died suddenly — his life cut short by a preventable tragedy. 

As I sat with the police after receiving the news, everything inside me broke. 

But in the midst of that unimaginable darkness, I heard his voice — clear, calm and certain:

“Mom, you are free.”

In that moment, I knew — his life would not be wasted and his death would not take me down. I was given a purpose:

I would Rock My Life.

I would heal, live and help others do the same.

From that moment on, I made a vow. 

In honour of my son — and the love that still lives — I chose to live.
I chose to heal. 

And I’ve been walking that path ever since.

There is no roadmap for that kind of grief.

It cracked me open — revealing not only unbearable pain but also decades of stored stress, survival patterns and unhealed wounds. 

My old ways of coping no longer worked.

No matter how broken I felt, I was determined to rebuild — fully, fiercely, and free.

I’ve lived, lost and risen — more than once.

While losing my son was the most devastating chapter of my life, it wasn’t the only one. 

Like so many of us — okay, maybe more than most — I’ve faced many of life’s messiest and 

most humbling moments. 

For me, it started at my very beginning — adopted as a baby and already searching for safety and belonging. That quiet search shaped much of my early life, showing up in school struggles, identity questions and a longing to feel at home in the world. 

Over the years, I became a teenage mom, endured relationship breakdowns, lost pregnancies, faced serious health issues, job upheaval and more than twenty moves — all while navigating the ongoing question of who I was becoming. 

For years, I searched for love, safety and belonging in all the outward places — trying to prove I was okay, even when I wasn’t. At the heart of it, I was trying to prove I was worthy. 

Life is messy. And success, on its own, isn’t enough.

These experiences didn’t just shape me. They stripped me bare and helped me rise with more compassion, grit and truth than I ever thought possible.

I’ve come to believe that everything I’ve lived through was part of the school of life — preparing me to sit firmly and compassionately with others in their own moments of change, heartbreak and reinvention.  

I’ve lived it. I can hold it. And I’ll walk with you through it. 

What began as a desperate search for relief from my grief became a calling.

I was open to help from anywhere and everywhere — and I dove into everything from mind-body practices to trauma-informed therapies. I did the deep work: receiving therapy, healing old wounds and learning how to live in a new way.

Along the way, I learned what many of us eventually do — that talk therapy alone isn’t always enough. The body keeps the score, and true healing requires more than just understanding our pain. It requires feeling it, releasing it and learning how to come home to ourselves again.

I trained extensively in somatic therapy, nervous system regulation, grief-informed practices, yoga, breathwork, flexibility, EMDR and more. At the same time, I stayed grounded in what I knew — continuing to lead in the corporate world and founding QI Consulting Ltd. in 2012, my project management and quality systems firm. Through that work, I brought strategic leadership to organizations across multiple industries.

During this time, I drew deeply on both personal and professional experience — merging the structured mindset of leadership with the transformational power of embodied healing. And over time, I became a registered naturopath.

What I discovered is this: Healing isn’t about fixing what’s wrong. It’s about returning to what’s real.

I now work with executives, high performers and purpose-led people who are quietly carrying too much — and are ready to stop pretending they’re fine. Many are navigating burnout, loss, big transitions or that deep, nagging sense that something needs to change.

Through my unique approach — blending science, spirit and strategy — I help my clients reset their nervous systems, release the emotional and mental weight they’ve been carrying and reconnect with their true selves.

Whether I’m leading group programs, working privately 1:1 or guiding executives through my signature Executive Thrive Method™, the goal is the same:

To help you feel strong, clear and grounded in a life that actually feels like yours.

I don’t believe you’re broken.
I believe you’re becoming.

And I believe we can heal — not by bypassing what’s hard, but by turning toward it with courage, compassion, and the right support.

If you’re tired of carrying it all alone — I’d be honoured to walk with you.

Because healing isn’t about becoming someone new.

It’s about returning to what’s real — and remembering that you were always enough. 

With peace, love and gratitude,

Ann Marie"

P.S.  Don’t hide your scars — wear them like the truth you’ve earned. Every part of your story belongs to your becoming.