On A-level results day, Emily Allen explains why university might not always be the best route to get ready for the world of work.
Digging my nails into my palms, I got up from my desk and stumbled down the corridor.
Once I reached the privacy of the office loos, I finally let the tears stream down my cheeks.
Sadly, this had become a common occurrence. Two, maybe three times a day, I’d find myself crying in a toilet cubicle, or sometimes silently at my desk.
This particular upset was all because of an email my boss had sent. It read: ‘This isn’t the standard we expect – start it again.’
On the surface, that might seem like a perfectly reasonable request between a manager and junior staff member. But all it did was reinforce how inadequate, useless, and wholly unprepared I felt for the world of work.
Just a few months before, I’d left university feeling full of success and eager for the future.
Now, with hindsight, I wish I’d never bothered with higher education at all and had instead taken a completely different path.
When I was in sixth form, university was seen as the only route to success.
No one ever talked about exploring other direct-to-workplace avenues – such as an internship – and in truth I never considered any alternative.
Going to university, studying a subject I was passionate about, and seeing which exciting career path that would eventually take me down was the dream to me. So I put my all into achieving it.
I worked evenings and weekends to ensure I got the grades I needed, and when I received an offer to study English at my first-choice university, I cried with happiness.
My time there was everything I’d dreamed of. I loved the newfound freedom, the friendships with people from around the world, and studying a subject I loved at an advanced level. Above all, I enjoyed being at a prestigious institution having truly earned my place there.
But while it was fun spending three years in a haze of writing essays and drinking on the quadrangle lawn with friends, the only time anyone started to ask me what I wanted to do after university was as I approached my final year.
No obvious career path had presented itself to me in all this time and, in truth, I still had no idea what I wanted to do.
Desperate, I sought help from the careers centre at my university.
‘What are you good at?’ they asked. Writing was the only truthful answer. I was dismissed with a handful of leaflets on postgrad law conversion courses.
Not convinced a career in law was for me, I spent the whole summer after I graduated applying for jobs for everything and anything, yet each description was peppered with buzzwords and language that were totally foreign to me though.
They all wanted ‘a motivated self-starter’, someone who was ‘able to spin multiple plates’ or could ‘report and analyse engagement effectively’.
All I could do was reason that I might learn to be all those things and more. I just needed to get my foot in the door.
However, rejection email after rejection email soon filled my inbox and I became increasingly disheartened.
The only comfort was knowing that my friends were having similar experiences, with some even attending multiple interviews in one day!
I reassured myself that the rejections didn’t matter – so long as I got one graduate job, everything else would fall into place.
Finally, four months after graduating, I got my first job working in PR.
I was so excited for my first day. I made sure to dress the part and was eager to learn.
But the change from the supportive academic environment to the relentless fast pace of the corporate world – where my skill set was totally impractical – was a difficult one to process.
Could I write an analytical essay comparing 18th century authors? Without a doubt. As for compiling a client report, writing a press release, or even scheduling an Outlook meeting, I had no clue.
Where I was used to having ample time to research and prepare work, I struggled with the new, seemingly impossible maxim of ‘we need this right away, and we need it to be perfect’. Simply trying your best didn’t count any more.
I realised then that university hadn’t prepared me for the workplace at all.
My repeated failure to achieve the job’s expectations only left me feeling more and more isolated from colleagues and too nervous to speak up in meetings for fear I would be wrong.
Far from wanting to explore new challenges, I saw every opportunity as potential failures to avoid at all costs.
As the days and weeks passed, I’d find myself breaking out in a sweat as I reached the office, my heart rate increasing, terrified of what that day was going to bring. My anxiety affected my ability to concentrate, and errors started creeping into my work, which only made matters worse.
Stuck in a vicious circle, the voice in my head roared louder every day: ‘You are a failure. You are useless. Everything you do is wrong.’
My friends and family noticed that I’d become more withdrawn, more anxious and skittish – very different from my usual sociable self. I started to dread work, terrified about what problems that day would bring. I felt trapped from the moment I started until 5:30pm.
It was during a work-from-home day, while still living with my parents, that my mum found me in tears in the study; until then, I’d been keeping up pretenses. She turned my laptop off, took me downstairs and we had a discussion, which resulted in her suggesting a counsellor.
At my family’s suggestion, 10 months into my job, I started seeing a counsellor who specialised in career coaching.
Under her guidance, I began to learn how to successfully navigate the office environment, and most importantly to adapt the skills I had to the workplace. We worked on both ‘soft’ and ‘hard’ skills, from priority and diary planning to better manage workflows, to delivering presentations to senior colleagues.
The therapist also suggested I build on my love of writing and pitch feature ideas (again and again, following many rejections!) until my first published piece helped build up my portfolio.
I left my job just after a year, in 2021. It took me time to learn to see my ‘failure’ as a learning experience, and to be able to work up the confidence to hand in my notice with pride.
It took a long while, but my confidence did return. I tried my hand at several different jobs, including working as a GCSE/A-level tutor and a volunteer copywriter for a charity – and that was how I found my niche.
I currently work as a copywriter and do freelance writing on the side; I still remember the warm, happy pride of seeing my first successful copy published. I feel emotionally ‘at home’ in my new role, and definitely no more daily tears, thank goodness!
If I could give any 18-year-old, including my bookish, younger self one piece of advice, it would be to consider all avenues.
More Trending
I’d say that, despite dreams of quadrangles and reading Austen all day, perhaps learning the ropes and gaining workplace experience would be better.
If I’d had that advice back then maybe it wouldn’t have been such a long and bumpy route on the road to career fulfilment.
Now, navigating the workplace environment has become second nature. And while there are still days when I feel a flare of imposter syndrome, I am proud of the path I’ve carved for myself every single day.
This piece was originally published on August 15, 2024.
Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk.
Share your views in the comments below.
MORE: I’m a university student — this is what I wish I’d known about money as a fresher
MORE: 9 celebrities who turned out well despite flunking A-levels
MORE: The highest-paying jobs in the UK that don’t require a university degree
