How I Knew It Was Time For Me To Blog
I was sitting in a café in Kent, lockdown had just started lifting, my business was really beginning to blossom, high on too much caffeine and desperate to tell someone my latest realisation.
You see, I am an ex-chartered surveyor. I worked in commercial property for 15 years having fallen into it by accident following a dire attempt to become an English teacher in SE London.
I have always come at things from an alternative route, rarely on purpose but almost always to good end.
Finishing school was a disaster after an injury made me miss all of the last two years and completing my GCSE’s in 3 months in a hospital school in Kent. Goodbye 9 A-Cs. Next my college was closed down halfway through my A-levels. I got into Uni after asking the Head of English if I could bend his ear and try and impress him – thankfully I did. Being a literature geek paid off.
When teaching didn’t work out, I ended up on the reception desk of a property company in the City of London, frustrated. I got stuck in; I was friendly. I smiled too much, talked too much and got too involved. It worked! I steadily progressed, was put through a Master’s degree (hello distinction – see, told you I was clever), the APC (route to become a chartered surveyor) and wound up in Asset Management. No grad route, no rotation, no fellow APC students to lean on. Just me and my excellent APC supervisor figuring it all out on our own. Boom.
I followed this path for a while. Swapped jobs, met new people, progressed further and built my CV, but something didn’t feel right. I was still frustrated.
I looked at my fellow surveyors and I always felt like an outsider – I wasn’t like any of them, either in terms of background or outlook. I got on well with people and I was sufficient at my job, but I never felt like I belonged. It never felt like it came easy. And I certainly never really had that buzz of ‘loving my job’.
I found myself getting more and more involved in the extra curricula; mental health first aider, wellbeing driver, intern programmes… you name it, if people were at the centre of it, I was involved in it. I started to excel in these areas and became known for them, much to the frustration of a manager who felt I was taking my eye off of my core job, quite possibly fairly.
And that’s when it hit. I needed to work with people. I needed to provide service. I needed to make people realise their potential, be content, find themselves. And yes, that sounds like total tosh and a lot of people say it, but I didn’t just want it, I needed it.
That was all I needed. I researched jobs, I spoke to people, I started a journey of understanding who I was and what I needed to be happy. I trained up, I handed in my notice and here I am, a mix of MRICS and Confidence & Resilience Coach.
The fallout, be it bad or good, is that I am now addicted to improving my life, finding myself and sharing my journey.
Every time I learn something new about myself I need to share it. It’s my digital attempt to reach back and pull up someone else behind me.
And so here I am. Sitting in my favourite coffee shop, creating a blog, knowing it’s all been done before and not caring one iota. Because at the end of the day I want to share my journey, not because I am altruistic, but because I need to for me.
When things occur to me, impress me or anger me, I will share them. Like journaling, but with spellcheck.
And if any of that interests you, all the better.
