A Professional?

In an ideal world, I would have achieved my general registration in May 2023. I would have enjoyed the benefits of labelling myself as a psychologist, rather than providing a tedious and oft-misunderstood explanation that, as a provisional, I’m simply a ‘P Plater’ driving and navigating the same roads. I would have enjoyed the benefits of a salary increase. And I would have savoured simply being able to exist and work rather than fussing over the requirements of an internship you’re expected to manage in addition to doing the actual job. Alas, I did not do this. Life, it turns out, advances in zigzags, and the journey is rarely linear. Since March 2023, this thank-you post has gone through nine iterations. I would reach for this document during particularly low moments to edit and re-edit my words as a source of motivation to persevere. Now, I can finally whip out my old graduation cap and a bottle of bubbles to celebrate the official milestone. After completing supervised practice, I am so excited and relieved to announce that, on my 26th birthday, I achieved full registration as a Psychologist.

As I launch into gushy thank-yous, I’ll also provide some context as to why this is perhaps the most anticlimactic yet emotionally overwhelming achievement of my life.

As a sweet, little, ignorant, and naive 17-year-old applying for university, I was faced with the decision to pursue a Bachelor of Arts or a Bachelor of Psychological Science. These options emerged as the two obvious contenders following the submission of one of my favourite essay assessments: The Great Disillusion: The Fate of the American Dream: A Marxist and Psychoanalytic Approach to The Great Gatsby. This essay appeared to me as the marriage between two of my greatest academic interests, and so I wondered whether to pursue a degree in psychology or the arts (specifically literature). My father, being the logical, conservative, and risk-averse gentleman that he is (bless him), suggested the psychology degree as it’s in pursuit of a “real profession”. At this stage, my sweet, little, ignorant, and naive self did not realise that a four-year honours degree does not a psychologist make. After three years of study spent in sporadic existential crisis, one year in full-blown existential crisis, and a year completing honours relatively unscathed, I was faced with another significant career decision: which postgraduate pathway to pursue. Sweet, little, ignorant, and naive me decided to apply at one university for a Doctorate in Clinical Neuropsychology (because it sounded smart and impressive, and I thought I’d rather like to stay at UQ). I was wholly unaware of how competitive these programmes were and was relying on the fact that I achieved excellent grades, had youth work experience, and honestly had never faced significant academic setbacks in my life. What a wake-up call, devastation, and ultimate blessing it was when I was not offered one of the 25 places in this course.

When I received this news, I was living a relatively happy life, nannying full-time and Zumba instructing, yet being haunted by a suffocating fear of the future. What was I to do with my life? How do I become a financially independent, real adult with decent career prospects? There’s surprisingly little that you can do with a Bachelor of Psychological Science, despite how compelling that qualification may sound. Whilst visiting my parents in the barren wastelands of North Queensland, I was informed by one of their acquaintances of a registration pathway called the 4+2 Psychology Internship. I considered this and began to pursue this pathway by applying for jobs in Brisbane. Here commenced the fun game of securing a job to gain work experience but requiring work experience to secure a job. Thankfully, my housemate at the time overheard that her school’s counselling service needed to expand their team to meet demands, and she gave my name to the school psychologist. So, for where it all began, I want to thank Antonia (AKA Narn). Without your finger on the pulse, I don’t know where I would have ended up! To my supervisor Jaclyn, and the Ipswich Girls’ and Junior Grammar School, I will be eternally grateful for the supportive supervisor and environment in which I got my start. To Chanel, thank you for being a listening ear and invaluable support whilst I worked in Queensland. Thank you to my Brisbane family, Adam and Hanlie (also Seb and the chickens), for all the conversation, encouragement, and amazing food. To Katie, Chase, Sophie, Arabella, and Hunter, I consider you an adopted family, and you all mean so much to me. Some of my fondest memories are looking after and playing with Hunter and Arabella – they are such lights in my life when work can be quite dark.

Now, apparently, I can’t just live and let live. So, on a whim, I decided to move to Melbourne. I had secured a job, but sweet, little, ignorant, and naive me did not do my due diligence and moved interstate without a signed employment contract (foreshadowing of what was to come). I rented a two-bedroom unit close to my place of work and braced for this new chapter of my life. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very romantic and was, in fact, quite traumatic. As much as my supervisors have oversight of my work as a provisionally registered psychologist, generally there is no in-depth look-in at the work psychologists do. The current system and confidential nature of our job don’t really allow for this. AHPRA manages our registration but otherwise, psychologists are trusted and expected to uphold the principles and ethics of our industry. Not all psychologists do. After a mere four weeks in the job I moved to Melbourne for, my colleague and I resigned due to the fraudulent and unethical behaviour of our employer. Thus commenced one of the most difficult years of my life. In a frantic bid to make money so that I could continue to pay my rent, I jumped onto a Facebook page and started nannying again. Shortly after, I secured two part-time jobs as a provisional psychologist. Still, the uphill battle continued. Paying rent continued to be challenging as I fought for fair and consistent pay. Enter: the random housemate I had to find online so that I could make ends meet. I no longer had to manage the fraudulent and unethical behaviour that I was initially confronted with in Melbourne, but organisations, it turns out, are fallible and imperfect. Pleading for and seeking out consistent and adequate supervision and management so that I could service my clients well and develop professionally became a tiring norm.

In these conditions, I had approximately zero desire to go out and interact with new people and places. Making friends as an adult in a new city and new state is incredibly difficult, even more so when you’re an introvert going through a tough time. Though I blame my first employment for pushing me into the pit, I will be forever grateful for falling in with Liz so that we could attempt to crawl out together. I couldn’t have gotten through this time without you, my colleague, my friend, my confidante, and my cheerleader. You helped me survive that first year in Melbourne and all the subsequent years after that. Thank you also to Matt and Erin (AKA Sweetie and Guppie) and Zoe for the numerous laughs, dumplings, and chats. I love you so much (and tolerate the fish I’m forced to feed while you’re away)! To my Melbourne family: Tannie Surette, Richard, Adam, Kels, Ruben, Eli, little Link, and now Millie: family dinners were welcome reprieves when the weeks were heavy. Thank you to everyone at the Brisbane Gateway Counselling and Wholeness Centre who inspired and empowered me even after my move. Special thanks to Pete, who reminded me (at a time when I was ready to quit and become a career nanny) to choose to stand in the chaos rather than get swept away by it. Your words meant, and continue to mean, more to me than you may know.

I turned a new page in Melbourne in 2023. I moved into a shared house in an inner-city suburb and commenced a new job that combines so much of what I love in life and work. Thank you to my work bestie, Molly, with whom I multitask to get my daily steps in while we rant and generally waffle. You keep me sane and make me feel so loved! Thank you to the rest of my (not so new) work family who have made me feel so at home. You’re too numerous to name, but I value you all dearly. I am thrilled to be counselling a limited number of international students each day so as not to churn through them like a factory line. The scope of the role allows me to support clients one-on-one as well as complete administration and project work to develop and advocate for wellbeing initiatives, policies, and procedures. I love learning about our students’ cultures and being surrounded by incredible academics and professionals whose brains I can pick over coffee. I love working on a campus with blooming roses and lavender and heritage-listed old buildings. I love being challenged by the staff book club to read literary and intellectually stimulating novels. And I love pushing romantasy propaganda with the student book club I created. Thank you to my housemate, Maddy, for starting this new chapter with me in 2023. Thank you for always being a sounding board and for your incredible hugs. To Kelly-Grace for the impromptu calls and debriefs on the complex, nuanced, and rewarding world of counselling immigrants. To Suze, Darcy, Ally, Michael, Ryan, Alex, Nick, Vanessa, Emily, Amy, Jess, and all my friends who haven’t been named, thank you. It may seem insignificant, but the dinners, coffee dates, phone calls, TikToks, Wednesday Waffles, and book clubs mean the world to me.

Thank you to my supervisors over the years: Barry, Lisa, Lucille, Kate, and Pete, and all my managers and colleagues who shaped this journey. Special thanks to my supervisor, Margaret, for your assistance on my case reports, the final requirement for my registration. Those close to me will know that these pesky four reports had me in a literal chokehold (this particular wound is still tender and may be discussed at a later date). All I’ll say is, who could have predicted that writing 10K words would be my personal Everest?! Margaret, I couldn’t have climbed it without you.

Finally, baie dankie to my family for absolutely everything! Apparently, I have my Ouma (and Mum) to thank for the bleeding heart I inherited, which landed me in this industry. Thank you to my sister, Elné, and brother-in-law, Matt, for the phone calls that never failed to lift my spirits and for being my number one fans on Instagram.

Call me a crazy cat lady, but I have to mention my little fur baby, Luna. You’ve only been here for the end, but I just love you so much! You are a joy to come home to.

And finally, thank you to Mamma and Pappa for always encouraging me, believing in me, and supporting me. You’ve been there for my successes and failures, my wins and losses, my happy recounts and despairing sobs. I love you so much, and you play such a huge role in this success.

Here’s to 2025, where I am happily content as a school psychologist and the proud business owner of my very own private practice, Cor Studio Wellness.