Please note: This story reflects the personal experience and perspective of its contributor. Academic careers vary widely, and others may experience different challenges and opportunities. 

Career Story 

I began my career training and working as a Solicitor in a Magic Circle law firm in London. During my training, I took a secondment that helped me realise that what I most enjoyed was legal research. I could see that as I became more senior in practice, I would do less of the work I loved because I would simply become too expensive for clients to use for detailed research. My role would have been to check what others had done.

I tested the waters by teaching for the Open University while still in practice. I realised I loved both teaching and the sense that I was making a positive, direct difference to students. So I took what felt like a bold step and applied for a funded PhD. Many colleagues were bewildered that I would leave a lucrative and promising legal career to become a student again. But I wanted a career that felt intrinsically satisfying.

My PhD was hard going. In my third year, I became pregnant, as planned. Balancing severe morning sickness, a newborn baby, writing up a thesis and starting a junior academic role was extremely demanding. Looking back, I do not quite know how I coped. It was probably a bit like being the frog in gradually heated water. I would not recommend juggling all of that at once, but it was just about manageable at the time.

Later, due to blocks in career progression in one institution, I moved. I wanted more time for research and writing rather than primarily covering teaching and administration. I have now been at the same institution for twelve years, starting as a Lecturer and progressing to Professor. It has been a long journey, and I am still working out how best to balance the different demands on my time.

I have pivoted in my research interests several times. That has expanded the depth and breadth of my work and opened up interdisciplinary collaborations that have made my intellectual life richer and more interesting. There is a toll, however, in getting up to speed quickly in new areas and in helping others see how apparently different strands fit together.

Looking back, I would tell myself that “good enough” really is good enough. I do not need to be perfect in all parts of my job or life for things to work. That has been a hard-won lesson.

I would also remember the colleague who told me that I would never regret spending months with my dying father during research leave rather than working. I faced criticism for not producing outputs during that time. Their wisdom helped me to reorient myself around what really matters. Yes, my track record suffered temporarily. I would not trade that time with my Dad for anything. Family, health and being a whole person are more important than any lines on a CV.

There are career traps. Like many competent people, I was repeatedly given urgent administrative roles that were time-consuming but invisible on a CV. I should have focused far more on writing and research earlier on. Teaching, pastoral work and administration are important, but they are not rewarded in the same way as outputs and grants.

I also learned that just because you complete a PhD does not mean you automatically know how to write. Many academics, including very senior ones, struggle with writing, imposter syndrome and blocks. It is better to talk about this openly and learn strategies than to sit in silence feeling inadequate.

Balancing academia and family life is possible, but it requires thought. Autonomy and flexibility are real advantages if you use them deliberately. I took Wednesday afternoons off when my child was in nursery so we could spend time together. I have tried to be present for concerts, exams and important moments. It means catching up at other times, but that flexibility matters.

Where I have had the most meaningful impact is in students’ lives. Nothing – not an article, a book or a grant – compares to helping students discover their passion, see themselves differently and believe in themselves. Supporting students through dark times has been the most significant impact of my academic career.

Over time, I have tried to set firmer boundaries. I no longer start the day with email because it derails thinking and writing. I am learning to say no more thoughtfully. I deprioritise meetings where I am not actively involved. I want to get in, make decisions and move on.

Networks matter enormously. But ask whether they enrich your research life or drain it. Supportive networks, built through real conversations and shared intellectual excitement, can be transformative. I still remember sitting next to someone at a conference dinner in the Netherlands and ending up co-editing a book together.

Have faith in yourself. Be strategic. Notice who genuinely supports others. Build friendships outside academia. And if being in academia makes you consistently unhappy, it may be time to do something else.

Reflections I would offer now 

• Choose intrinsic satisfaction over external status.
• “Good enough” really is good enough. Perfectionism is costly, especially if you have the “gift” or “curse” of competence and keep being asked to pick up everything.
• Family, health and being a whole person matter more than lines on a CV.
• Be alert to “career traps”. Urgent, patchwork administrative roles can consume enormous time without advancing your progression. Protect space for writing and research.
• Writing is a skill that requires development at every career stage. Talk about it openly.
• Teaching and supporting students can be the most meaningful impact of all.
• Set firm boundaries: protect writing time, limit email, and deprioritise meetings where you are not actively involved.
• Say no thoughtfully. Ask yourself how you will feel about a commitment in a month’s time before agreeing.
• If being in academia makes you consistently unhappy, it may be time to do something else.