#6: Discipline, doubt, and a degree
What I've learned from four and a half years of studying psychology
At 16:31 today I hit submit on the final piece of assessed work for my psychology degree with the Open University.
I started this degree in February 2021, back when we were in the throes of lockdown and the bleak greyness of winter in the UK. Well, what else was I going to do?
I hoped this day would come but I couldn’t dream what it would be like. You see, I come from a background where education was valued less than work. Neither of my parents (nor grandparents) had been to university; we were very much ‘working class’. I’d had a few false starts with university — the lack of financial and familial support meant I dropped out early on. As I approached 40 it was a decades-old regret that I couldn’t let go of.
It’s definitely harder doing a degree later in your career than when you’ve just left school. Over the time that I have studied, I’ve experienced many life changes:
Moved house twice (including buying one!)
Changed jobs three times
Burnt out
Started a business
Finished a coaching diploma
Lost a close family member
Entered peri-menopause
When I look back, I realise — it’s been a LOT.
My degree has been the one constant that I could keep coming back to as a source of comfort (and at times, stress). And now it too has come to an end I’m left with a gaping hole in my life — and about 30 hours a week. Whatever will I do with myself?
I’m feeling so many emotions: sadness, loss, fear — but also immense pride in having stuck with it.
So what did I learn from this?
That I can do anything I put my mind to.
I’ve spent years now building my self-belief, piece by piece. Every week of studying new material, every assignment submitted and graded, every feedback I’ve reviewed, every tutorial — they’ve all layered on top of one another, and over time have shown me I am capable of so much more than I thought I was.
My inner critic was telling me ‘you’re not clever enough to get a degree’. I know where that voice came from, and I was determined to prove him wrong. I’ve changed my views on intelligence, not least because studying psychology has taught me it’s a rather slippery concept to start with anyway! I now believe that it’s less about innate characteristics and natural ability, and everything to do with intention and discipline.
A common topic clients come to me for help with is finding motivation to make changes in their lives, and then sustain them. From personal experience (as well as the empirical evidence!) I say that motivation is great for getting started — but it won’t keep us going. There were too many moments to count when I wanted to just jack it all in. Sacrifices were made at weekends and holidays — books taken to exotic places so I could continue to keep up with the workload (the pages in one of my textbooks are all crinkly after it got doused with beer in Tenerife, I was pretty mad!) No, what keeps us showing up is having the discipline, the routine, the habit. A regular time to study that you stick to. Strict compartmentalisation of life-study-work, with strong boundaries to avoid context switching and compromising what is important to me.
Dangerous was the thought ‘I can just do this other thing, it will only take an hour’. It never did take just one hour because it broke concentration. The context-switching tax or opportunity cost of doing something else was always greater than my optimistic estimates. I got really good at estimating how long a task would take me so I knew that I would jeopardise my goals if I skipped putting the study reps in. A little bit of trial and error really hammered that lesson home for me in years 1 and 2.
I had my moments of doubt that I could do it, too. This was usually when I stepped back and looked at the enormity of what I was trying to achieve — I found it overwhelming in the early years. So instead I kept my head down, focusing on just the next step. I didn’t need to think about what I would be doing five years down the line, I only needed to concentrate on the next assignment. And then the next one. And then the one after that.
The first four academic years I did each module separately, but in the last one I did two modules together to get it done in half the time. That meant there were pinch points throughout the year: February was particularly bad with three assignments due within a four week period. I had to plan my study down to the day, and sometimes the two hour blocks, so I could balance the competing workloads without burning out my brain. It was gruelling, but I managed.
At the end, I have to ask myself: knowing what I know now, would I do it again?
I would. I was very naive about the commitment when I started it, and learned the hard way what personal and professional sacrifices I would have to make to keep going. But I think it was necessary to have that naivety when I started — I see too many people get put off thinking things will be hard, that they talk themselves out of even trying. The fear of the pain is always worse than actually going through it — and the inner critic is really just scared and trying to protect you from harm. You have to learn to shush it, because mostly I have loved my degree with every fibre of my being — and I would have missed out on this joy.
This degree has taught me more than psychology. It taught me how to keep going — with discipline, through doubt. It’s opening doors to new and exciting opportunities in my career and perspectives in my relationships. The biggest shift isn’t what I’ve learned — it’s who I’ve become in the process.
And that feels like just the beginning.