From Medical Secretary to Counselling Psychologist: Lessons Learned by Jumping in the Deep End

Hello everyone 

Welcome to the next installment of the Pathways to Psychology blog. Today we hear from Dr. Angelina Archer CPsychol AFBPsS, Counselling Psychologist. Angelina never imagined a career in the psychology field, but her focus to understand and support people paved the way. Here she reflects on the pathway she followed, where reflection and humility shine through.

     Dr. Angelina Archer CPsychol AFBPsS, Counselling Psychologist

From Medical Secretary to Counselling Psychologist: Lessons Learned by Jumping in the Deep End

When I finished my Counselling Psychology doctoral training, I found myself thinking about something a medical secretarial colleague had said right at the beginning, just after I received an acceptance letter from my university: “You’re jumping in the deep end. Are you sure you haven’t lost your marbles?” At the time, I laughed. Many people had questioned whether I was “punching above my weight” by moving from a long career as a medical secretary into Counselling Psychology. Only with hindsight did I fully appreciate the scale of that leap - and how much it would reshape my understanding of learning, leadership and professional identity.

An unconventional route into psychology

On paper, my path into psychology was not very traditional. I spent 18 years working as a freelance medical secretary in the NHS, typing letters and reports for GPs and consultants, which I continued alongside my doctoral training. I was familiar with healthcare systems, medical language and clinical environments, but always from behind the scenes.

I was born in London with heritage from Guyana, a small, diverse country in South America where conversations about mental health are still quite new. Because I visited Guyana often since I was a child, I have always felt deeply connected to both British and Guyanese cultures equally. My grandparents could not read nor write but were rich in wisdom. Their understanding of people was not academic but learned from the school of life and hard knocks. Growing up as a person of mixed ethnic heritage, I took an interest in almost anything, especially science, art, music, history and trivia, and I wanted to observe, question and understand the world, rather than make assumptions, even when I didn’t fit in socially. I was the child who asked “why?” to almost everything from an early age, almost driving my mother insane from the constant questioning! I studied psychology at GCSE level (exams for children age 14-16 in the UK), but I was not sure at the time whether it was something I wanted to pursue as a career. Those early experiences of observing, listening and making meaning were probably quiet foundations for psychology.

I decided to pursue Counselling Psychology after experiencing what I could only describe as a quarter-life existential crisis. Although my work as a medical secretary allowed me to work with patients and clinicians daily in several different specialties, different computer systems and gadgets and ways of working, I felt increasingly invisible as technology started to take over my work, and I eventually felt like I was on the outside looking in. By my mid-20s, I wanted work that felt meaningful, challenging and aligned with my values. Being chosen as one of just 12 trainees from around 350 applicants for the doctorate was an honour as well as terrifying, almost as terrifying as the interview process! Many of my peers had years of psychology experience before starting doctorate studies, but despite transferable skills and prior academic and clinical work from my previous degrees, I constantly felt I had lots of catching up to do.

The myth of the “doctoral image”

Early in training, I believed a Professional Doctorate meant someone with certainty, authority and confidence, which mirrored the doctors I worked with as a medical secretary. Working with vulnerable people made me feel like there was no room for doubt or error. But as my training continued, the more I learned, the less I felt I knew. Imposter syndrome became familiar and persistent, especially in my second year. I kept asking myself:

Was I meant to feel this unsure?

Did this mean I wasn’t good enough?

When would someone realise I didn’t belong here?

My father once warned that aiming high could feel like chasing a carrot on a stick. I wondered if I was aiming for something unattainable at times. Through personal therapy and reflection, I began questioning the “doctoral image” I was striving for and how realistic it was. Slowly, a realisation emerged: the doctors I admired were never superhuman. They were skilled but also fallible, reflective and still learning. No one had expected me to be superhuman either… except myself. Becoming a Counselling Psychologist for me meant embracing uncertainty, mistakes and not knowing as long as I was open to learning from them.

Leadership, conflict and team dynamics

Before training, I had worked in both supportive and deeply toxic teams. As a freelancer, I was free to leave hostile environments. As a trainee psychologist feeling as though everything was at stake, that option wasn’t readily available. I learned quickly that leadership wasn’t about authority or being an expert. It involved:

tolerating discomfort

navigating power and conflict

knowing when to speak and when to step back

Leadership wasn’t about being the most knowledgeable person in the room. At times, I saw peers become unhealthily competitive, mistaking leadership for performance. But in my opinion, “good” psychology doesn’t thrive on hierarchy or comparison. It thrives on dialogue, reflection and difference. True leadership meant repairing ruptures, learning from disagreement and holding complexity, not trying to outperform others.

Learning to look beneath the surface

Perhaps the biggest shift during training was learning how to think critically and to revisit and develop that ability to ask “why?” which I had developed in childhood. As a medical secretary, my role was not to ask questions, but to document observable facts accurately and type letters exactly as dictated on audio by doctors. Occasionally it might have involved questioning a dosage of a medication or an odd choice of word that did not make sense, but otherwise I just worked according to what my doctors and managers expected of me. As a psychologist, my role meant understanding patterns of verbal and non-verbal meaning. Not just what was happening, but why. Not just what was said, but how and when. One quote that stayed with me was written by the psychotherapist Donald Schön:

“The swampy lowlands, where situations are confusing messes incapable of technical solution and usually involve problems of greatest human concern.”

I realised human lives were not neat containers of symptoms or diagnoses, and I began to see every letter I typed differently - each one contained an untold story of a person beneath the surface of physical symptoms, medication and translations of scan and test results. Studying philosophy, epistemology, and critical thinking during my doctorate expanded my understanding of what it meant to know something. More importantly, it helped me shape an identity as a Counselling Psychologist grounded in curiosity, humility and compassion.

What my journey taught me

On reflection, there wasn’t a single achievement or qualification which made me into a psychologist. It was the accumulation of many uncomfortable lessons through my lectures, placements, clinical supervision, personal therapy and many hours of reading and reflection. My journey taught me that:

My previous career did not define my future capability

Every role gave me transferable skills I hadn’t fully recognised

Curiosity mattered more than a perfect CV

Growth required becoming comfortable with discomfort

My voice had value, even when I didn’t feel like an expert

And it was always okay to say, “I don’t know”

As a trainee, you are a work in progress - before, during and after training. Whether you are a trainee or qualified psychologist, you will never know everything, and I feel this keeps the work human. Despite what my father once said, the carrot was never fixed. I could move it, redefine it and decide what it represented. Yes, I jumped into the deep end, but I emerged on the other side slowly, imperfectly and sometimes chaotically. And now, on the other side of that journey, I realise even the smallest task related to my medical secretarial career was quietly preparing me for my career now as a Counselling Psychologist.

Thank you so much for sharing your reflections Angelina. They are truly valuable and inspiring.

Maybe reading about Angelina reminds you of your own journey. Get in touch to add a blog entry.

Kind regards,

The Pathways Team