INTERVIEW: EMMA WEDGWOOD
FROM ADDICITON TO AESTHETICS
THE INSPIRING JOURNEY OF EMMA WEDGWOOD
Aesthetic nurse prescriber Emma Wedgwood opens up to Kezia Parkins about her journey from addiction to recovery, and how her experiences in intensive care and her own healing led her to a new career helping others rediscover confidence and self-worth
Looking back on her years in addiction, Emma Wedgwood doesn’t shy away from the truth.
“As a daily drinker and user, I was a complete mess. I wasn’t taking care of myself, I was barely eating... It wasn’t until I was in recovery that I realised how ill I looked.”
During the height of her addiction, Wedgwood was working as an ICU nurse within the NHS. Despite her professionalism and being an incredible nurse, she admits she was living a double life.
“I never went to work drunk or high, but it took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that I was showing up unfit for duty. There’s this part of you that says, I’m a health professional, I should know better. But addiction doesn’t discriminate. It took me a long time to accept that.”
Addiction, she says, consumes everything.
“You’re either drinking and taking drugs, or you’re thinking about it, or you’re recovering from it. Within that process, you lose yourself completely – any kind of self-care, any sense of self-worth.”
Her physical health deteriorated rapidly. My skin was terrible, my hair was terrible, I was malnourished and underweight. You don’t notice that you look unwell because your sleep is erratic, your thinking is erratic. You’re soulless. You could look into my eyes and there was no soul there.”
“The long hours, the stress, the culture of ‘work hard, play hard’, it all contributes. We’d work 14-hour shifts and then go out and get hammered. For a long time, it went unnoticed because everyone was doing it.”
“When you’re working in an acute area like intensive care or A&E, you’re seeing trauma after trauma. We didn’t have therapy or support systems then. So we went out drinking instead. A lot of those people I used to drink with, I later found out they were alcoholics too.”
Nursing, she adds, can be both rewarding and punishing.
“It’s not always a kind culture. You went in, did your job, got shouted at. It was very sergeant major-ish. Sometimes nursing is not a kind profession.”
Wedgwood back in her ICU days and at the height of her addiction.
THE ROAD TO RECOVERY
Recovery, Wedgwood says, was not linear. It was slow, painful and humbling.
“That shame will stop you from doing so much. It becomes all-encompassing, and it keeps you underground. That secrecy feeds the addiction. It’s like a perfect marriage.”
But gradually, she began rebuilding herself, one act of self-care at a time.
“Now, even if I have nowhere to go, I do my hair and makeup. Not because I’m vain, but because I need to not be the person I was before, the one who didn’t take care of herself.”
“When I first got sober and went into AA, I realised these people were on my side. They wanted me to get well. It took a while to understand that I might be worth something again.”
It was around three years into her sobriety that she found aesthetics. And with it, a new purpose.
THE CATALYST FOR CHANGE
Wedgwood’s turning point came when her professional life collided with her private struggles.
“I nearly got struck off the register. I had to go through a painful disciplinary process – nine months out of work, regular blood tests, home visits, interim hearings, and a final court hearing. I was terrified and so full of remorse.”
At 36, facing the loss of her nursing license, her home and her marriage, Wedgwood realised something had to change.
“I was getting divorced, I was penniless. I didn’t know what to do or how to survive. All I wanted was not to lose my home and not to lose my job… the two things that still mattered. Some simple maths was going on: if I wanted to keep my job, I had to stop drinking.”
“Emotionally, I was absolutely broken. The consequences had compounded to a point where I finally said, enough. I’m done.” She was given another chance, one she doesn’t take for granted. “Not everyone gets that opportunity. If I’d lost my license at that point, I don’t know where I’d be. I could’ve ended up homeless or dead, or both.”
NURSING, TRAUMA AND ADDICTION
When asked if her work in intensive care contributed to her addiction, Wedgwood looked back to a time when nursing culture was quite different from how it is now.
“Initially, I felt so much shame around the fact that I was a nurse and an addict. I thought that shouldn’t happen to me. But, nurses are just a cross-section of society, the same as doctors are. There are fat nurses, alcoholic nurses. We’re not immune.”
FROM ICU TO AESTHETICS
“I was having my own anti-wrinkle injections done, with a dermatologist. He kept asking if I’d ever thought about going into aesthetics. I used to joke it was beneath me. I was an intensive care nurse, I saved lives!”
Eventually, he invited her to attend Aesthetic Medicine Live. “I went along, and I was like, ‘Oh my God, these people are happy! They’ve got nice handbags! I was struck by the glamour at first,’” she laughs. “But then I got really interested in what they were doing.”
Her initial curiosity soon became respect.
“I thought naively and snobbishly that it was just a bit of Botox, but I realised there was so much more to it.”
Determined to make the switch, Wedgwood took a job in a GP surgery to gain her prescribers licence.
“It was a bit of a chicken-and-egg situation, you couldn’t get a job without being a prescriber, and you couldn’t become a prescriber without the job. There weren’t the networks or support we have now. But I knew I wanted to be fully autonomous”.
A friend eventually convinced her to apply for a position at Sk:n, which led to her first role as an aesthetics nurse.
For a while, she was juggling ICU and aesthetics before finally making the leap that marked a new chapter, driven not by survival but by purpose.
“I started to make decisions that were good for me. I began to think, actually, I can do this. I had a bit of self-esteem again and thought, I’m going to go for the job I actually want.”
In 2021, she founded Emma Wedgwood Aesthetics, allowing her to blend her passion for patients and ICU instincts, with the aesthetic artistry she had gained over the past eight years. Emma Wedgwood Aesthetics now operates out of two locations, one in Mayfair and the other in Kingston.
EWA: RESTORE, RECLAIM & RENEW
In 2024, Wedgwood launched her pro bono project, EWA: Restore, Reclaim & Renew, to support women recovering from addiction.
“About a year ago, I had a client who was clearly struggling with addiction and it got me thinking about how hard it was to get back to life while in recovery. I had a lot of people who helped me along the way so I wanted to give back
Now Wedgwood dedicates around a day a month to treating women in recovery who are rebuilding their lives and plans to continue to grow this commitment.
The initiative offers complimentary consultations and treatments, including skin health advice, regenerative therapies, injectables, and lifestyle guidance.
“It’s not about vanity, it’s about confidence. We’re giving these women a springboard, helping them start to feel good about themselves again, or get back into work.”
RECOGNISING ADDICTION AND CREATING SAFE SPACES
Wedgwood’s openness about her past helps her spot addiction in others and create safe spaces for conversation.
“There’s a phrase: you spot it if you’ve got it. I see it straight away in patients and sometimes colleagues. The perpetual lateness, the lack of stability. Those little signs.”
“It’s tough because people carry a lot of shame. I’m always happy to share my story, and it’s had a good effect. People have gone on to seek help, whether through meetings or rehab.”
Some in the sector may worry that vulnerability could damage their reputation, but Wedgwood disagrees with this.
“People think being open might put a black mark on their name or that people may worry you will relapse. After 12 years of sobriety, I don’t feel that way. For me, vulnerability and openness are strengths, not weaknesses. And people respond to that.”
A MESSAGE OF HOPE
Today, Wedgwood’s work in aesthetics is deeply intertwined with her belief in healing, both inside and out.
“People think aesthetics is superficial, but it’s not. The little treatments – your skin, your hair, your clothes – they feed into your inner belief in yourself. They help you start to feel worthy again.”
Her message is simple but powerful: recovery and beauty are both acts of self-respect.
“When I first got sober, I didn’t think I was worth anything. But now I know everyone deserves to feel good about themselves.
If I can help someone else see that they’re worthy too, that’s everything.”
Emma Wedgwood’s story is one of resilience, compassion and renewal. A powerful reminder that addiction does not discriminate and that healing the mind and body can transform not only how we look, but how we live.