Career who?
on skipping university, taking risks and finally stumbling upon my passion
It started with a fiery disagreement I had with my teacher in sixth form, because I refused to waste my time writing a personal statement for the university application I wasn’t going to submit. I didn’t know what I wanted to do in the future, or study next year, so what was the point? I wanted to spend that time drinking & texting boys studying for the exams I was doing then. That was a rogue decision, when all everyone else cared about was going to university, but it was also the right one. In another life, I’d now be 33 with a degree in something I’m still not interested in and drowning in student loan debt. No thanks.
Fast forward to my late twenties and still: why didn’t I know what I wanted to do? Why couldn’t I find an industry I wanted to get my claws into? Convinced (after a few misogynistic, toxic office environments after sixth form) I never wanted to work for anyone, I started a cleaning business at 21, and it saw me through my twenties. Now, I am really proud of that. It paid rent, it paid for trips and adventures all over Europe, it paid for countless cocktails on dance floors that seemed like the most important nights in the world, and in the latter half of my twenties, it built up a small savings account. I was a proud business owner, but I was itching for more, and this just wasn’t cutting it.
This is a lesson in your life doing a 180 on a random Tuesday. I went to therapy and discovered life coaching off the back of a big-break-up-and-moving-home-to-parents-situation (this trauma needed a professional, and thank fuck it did).
Life coaching: I knew from the first book I read, was me. This was in my veins. I loved this new world inside and out (apart from the term life coach). So if my life hadn’t hit a downward spiral, I wouldn’t have found this love of my life.
It took me 2 years to take action on this new dream, up to my ears in self-doubt, wondering how I would eventually try to run two businesses once I finally qualified. I was also trying to keep up with everyone around me and, so naturally, wanted to buy a house. Being single and self-employed made this exceedingly difficult.
Once again, I dropped the thing I ‘should’ be doing and made the bold decision (and spent a chunk of my savings) to study instead. I was again, on the receiving end of confused faces and unsure head shakes from the people around me (I was used to this by now) but I’ve never been one for doing the ‘right’ things. I much prefer to trust that it all works out and not dwell on the “but the best investment you will ever make is a house.” I’m not here to invest, I’m here to live.
As I get settled into my thirties, I’ve just realised: I’m a risk-taker. I love that for me. I had no idea. I’d always rather take the risk than feel trapped. I value freedom over conforming to our society’s timeline and made-up rules.
Success is a spectrum. Back in the heady days of my early twenties, success equalled money; no one could tell me any different. Now, success looks like sipping my coffee slowly in the morning without having to rush to an office where I make money for someone else. It’s waking up every morning and feeling buzzed that this is my life. It’s being able to say yes to whatever I want. It’s designing my life and my timeline for me. It’s helping other women trust themselves so that they can go out into the world and choose themselves, rather than fucking around worrying what other people think of them.
I’m off to put those success goals into action. Here’s to choosing the wrong path that’s all mine.