The other path I might have taken, and why I don’t regret the one I did
Whilst I’m taking some time away from regular writing, the news this week caught my attention. A-level results are out tomorrow, and much is being said about university admissions, including that many young people today aren’t used to phoning admissions tutors. They prefer email or online forms, and some are being coached in how to have a phone conversation.
It got me thinking about my own life, fifty years ago. In August 1975, if I’d stayed on at school, I might have been waiting for A-level results. But I wasn’t. By then, I’d already been working for over two years.
Back then, university was not the automatic next step, especially for working-class families. Very few young people went, and even fewer from my background. You left school, you got a job, and you earned your own way. That was my reality.
I sometimes imagine the life I didn’t live.
If I’d gone to university, perhaps I’d have stepped into a high-flying profession, met a partner in the same world, travelled for work, and built an international career. In that version of events, I might be one of those people who sees dual-career partnerships as the norm.
But instead, my path began earlier. While my hypothetical university self was still in lecture halls, I was navigating workplaces, learning how to earn a living, and carving out a place in the world. I wasn’t “preparing” for work, I was already working.
Looking at the way careers are discussed today, so much of the advice assumes a particular starting point: a university education, professional parents, financial buffers. The idea that you might be financially independent at 18, and already gaining years of experience before your peers graduate, is rarely in the picture. And yet, that’s the story for many of us.
Starting early had its own advantages. By the time others were entering the workplace, I’d already faced career decisions, handled responsibility, and learned to adapt. Alongside office work I moved to London, at 16, to become a hotel housekeeper, responsible for eight room maids, the linen room, and the store room. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was grounding. It gave me a resilience I’m not sure I’d have developed if life had been more cushioned. 18 months of living alone and only staying in one night – that’s a different type of education as I was heavily involved in the London pub rock scene.
There were also opportunities along the way. Working for The Post Office (later Royal Mail) from age 20, I had an employer who invested in their people. They funded my first degree, a two-year counselling qualification, an MSc in occupational psychology, and an MBA, all alongside regular promotions. Combining study with full-time work was demanding, but it never occurred to me that I might fail and it certainly demonstrated resilience.
Fifty years on, I’ve built a career that’s mine, in my voice, on my terms. Not the product of a single, linear track, but shaped by detours, re-routes, and constant learning. I can imagine the parallel universe where I was part of a high-achieving dual-career couple, but the truth is, my own path has given me depth, adaptability, and lived experience that no textbook or boardroom could match.
As this years’ school-leavers look ahead, I hope they see that there is no one right way to build a life. Whether their next step is into university halls or a first job, the journey will be shaped by their choices and circumstances. Fifty years ago, I took one path. It wasn’t second-best. It was simply mine.
And now, 52 years on from my first job, I’m relishing this time out to consider my future. Not to retire, but to review and create a life that suits me, my interests, my dreams. I plan for a satisfying next stage where I continue to develop, grow, and share what wisdom I can with the world.
