Counselling Isn’t a Career Shift — It’s a Homecoming

For a long time, I believed my career path looked confusing on paper. A BA in Psychology, followed by years in corporate roles, and then becoming an author—it didn’t seem to add up. But now, as I begin pursuing a diploma in counselling, it feels less like a shift and more like a return. I’m circling back to psychology.

What some might see as a detour feels, to me, like a homecoming. Was this my core interest all along, or was writing my true home? I’m still not entirely sure—and maybe I don’t need to be.

I chose psychology for my undergraduate degree because I was drawn to the idea of a medical career, inspired by my mother’s path. I didn’t have a clearly charted roadmap back then. What I did have was curiosity—about people, emotions, behaviour, and the invisible forces that shape our choices. Psychology gave me a language for what I had always sensed: that stories, struggles, and inner worlds truly matter.

Life led me into counselling rooms and clinical settings in unexpected ways along my journey. I’m deeply grateful for that, because without those experiences, I may never have developed such a strong interest in the field.

Writing, on the other hand, was my backbone for survival. As a shy and introverted child, it became the way I made my voice heard. What began as poetry soon spilt into other forms of writing. Every story or essay I wrote was an exercise in empathy—learning to sit with complexity, contradiction, and emotional depth. At the time, I didn’t realise these were skills shaping the path ahead of me.

Teaching, too—whether at universities or in the NGO I work with now—was psychology in action. Students don’t just bring questions into the classroom; they bring fear, self-doubt, ambition, and deeply personal stories. Standing in front of them hasn’t always been easy, but I’ve learned how vital it is to listen with emotional safety, to show up with encouragement, and to simply be present.

Even corporate spaces were no exception. While productivity and performance metrics were central, they were also spaces filled with burnout, stress, interpersonal challenges, emotional suppression, and quiet struggles. Mental health didn’t stay outside office doors—it lived within them. I observed this closely.

No matter the role I found myself in—author, teacher, corporate professional—the same thread ran through it all. Understanding people: clients, students, colleagues. Understanding inner struggles and trying to find meaning or solutions. I’ve always been drawn to deeper conversations, often listening more than speaking. I noticed patterns in behaviour, learned how to hold space, and slowly realised that I never truly left psychology behind. It had always been sitting with me.

Now, choosing to pursue a diploma in counselling doesn’t feel like abandoning my previous paths. Writing taught me empathy. Teaching taught me patience. Corporate life taught me awareness and stress management. I hope to bring all of this into counselling—to help others sit with their emotions and engage more honestly with themselves.

In many ways, this feels like returning to a place I’ve known before—warm, familiar, grounding. Through this winding map of careers, counselling isn’t just another interest. It’s a way back to myself.