My Diplomas Sat in a Drawer, but Psychology Never Did- Tilda's journey to Educational & Counselling Psychology
Hi everyone and welcome to the next instalment of the Pathways to Psychology blog. Today we hear from Tilda Salanki, Director and Counselling & Educational Psychologist. Tilda reminds us of noticing what is here with us. Sometimes our skills and qualities shine their brightest without us even realising. Happy reading!
Tilda Salanki
Director
Educational & Counselling Psychologist
My Diplomas Sat in a Drawer, but Psychology Never Did
If you had asked me ten years ago where life would take me, becoming both an Educational Psychologist and a Counselling Psychologist in the UK would never have crossed my mind.
In fact, I never planned to become a psychologist at all. As a teenager, I was studying Environmental Protection in high school and imagined a future connected to science and nature. Psychology was not even on my radar until my first Psychology lesson in Year 10.
I cannot remember what topic my teacher introduced that day, but I remember exactly how she made us feel. She encouraged us to think, challenge ideas, disagree respectfully and stay curious. She listened to us and somehow managed to engage an entire classroom without ever raising her voice. For the first time, I genuinely looked forward to a lesson. We were not memorising information. We were trying to understand people.
And I loved it.
Years later, while studying Psychology in Romania, I experienced something similar when teaching psychology sessions to future teachers. Students were curious, engaged and eager to discuss ideas. They understood concepts because they experienced them rather than memorised them. Looking back, I think that was when I discovered my calling, even though I did not have the words for it at the time.
Life, however, had other plans.
My husband and I moved to the UK hoping for a better life. Like many people who relocate, my priority was not building a career in my field. It was finding stability, earning a living and adapting to a completely new environment.
My psychology diplomas stayed untranslated and stored away in a drawer in Romania.
For years, I thought psychology belonged to another chapter of my life.Then I became pregnant.
Having already experienced a previous pregnancy loss, I spent the first trimester feeling anxious. When we finally reached twelve weeks, I allowed myself to believe that perhaps everything would be okay. At twenty weeks, contractions started. For two months, I remained in hospital hoping that our daughter could be saved. Deborah was born sleeping at twenty-two weeks.
Until that point, grief had existed for me mainly in textbooks. Suddenly, I was living it. I found myself revisiting everything I had learned about loss, automatic thoughts and coping. Psychology did not remove my pain, nor should it have. But it helped me understand that guilt often accompanies grief, that our minds desperately search for explanations and that acceptance does not mean forgetting.
Psychology stopped being simply a subject I had studied. It became something that helped me survive.
A month later, I returned to work because my husband had suffered a serious accident and financially we had no other option. Over the following years, I found myself leading teams, supporting colleagues through uncertainty and discovering that what I loved most about leadership was not performance or targets, but mentoring people, helping them grow in confidence and supporting them through periods of change.
During the pandemic, I also lost my mother. She was in Romania and I was in the UK. Travel restrictions meant I could not travel home to say goodbye. Losing my mother affected me in ways I had not anticipated. For a long time, I felt as though someone had picked me up, spun me around and then left me standing still, unable to recognise where I was supposed to go next.
I completely lost my sense of direction.
I remember praying constantly, asking God for a path, a light or simply a sign that would help me understand what I was supposed to do with my life. At that point, I was no longer asking for certainty.
I was asking for meaning.
Looking back now, I wonder if that was the moment I truly started searching for psychology again.
Not because I wanted another qualification. Not because I wanted a title. But because I was trying to understand myself, my losses and the person I was becoming.
Later, I joined an organisation supporting migrants and displaced families. Working with people who had left behind their homes, communities and familiar routines taught me that everyone carries invisible stories. Some people needed emotional support. Others needed practical help. Many simply needed someone willing to listen. It was also where I first encountered trauma-informed practice and realised how much I enjoyed creating safe spaces for people to talk about difficult experiences.
For the first time in seven years, I also experienced unemployment.
It was frightening and made me realise how closely we can tie our identity to our work. Around that time, a friend from my Master's programme encouraged me to explore Educational Psychology in the UK.
Initially, I struggled to understand the role because it looked very different from what school psychologists do in Romania. Still, I became curious. Eventually, I obtained recognition as both an Educational Psychologist and a Counselling Psychologist. The journey was far from straightforward.
I experienced rejection, self-doubt and moments when I questioned whether I truly belonged in the profession. Thankfully, someone eventually looked beyond what I lacked and recognised what I could bring.
Looking back, I have realised that psychology never really stayed in a drawer.
Only my diplomas did.
Psychology was there when I grieved. It was there when I supported teams through uncertainty. It was there when I sat with migrants trying to rebuild their lives. It was there when I encouraged people who had lost confidence in themselves. It was there in conversations with friends, family members and colleagues.
Over time, I realised that what fascinates me most is understanding people. Why do we think the way we do? How do losses change us? How do relationships influence the way we see ourselves? Why do two people experience similar events and come away carrying very different stories?
Educational Psychology helps me understand children, families and systems. Counselling Psychology reminds me that behind every behaviour there is a story waiting to be understood. I also hope that one day I will be able to support mothers who have experienced pregnancy loss, stillbirth or infant loss. Not because I can remove their pain. But because I understand how lonely that journey can feel.
More recently, I met 2 other Educational Psychologists from Romania who are also practising in the UK. Each of us arrived here through a different journey and one of them suggested creating a peer support group. For the first time in a long time, I felt that I belonged to a community of professionals who understood both worlds I have spent years trying to reconcile. Today we are 5 of us and we would like to meet others.
If my story has taught me anything, it is that life experience is not something we leave behind when we retrain or change direction. We do not really start again. Our experiences, relationships, successes, mistakes and losses become part of what we bring into the profession.
If your career path feels fragmented, if you have spent years away from psychology, or if you wonder whether it is too late to return, I hope my story reassures you that it isn't.
Psychology is everywhere.
Sometimes, we simply realise that we have been living it all along.
If my story resonates with you, or if you are exploring your own pathway into psychology, please feel free to connect with me on LinkedIn. I would be happy to hear your story too. There were many moments when I thought, "That's it. This is the end." Yet another door opened. And when I believed it was the end, God gently reminded me:
"Wait a moment. This is not the end. It is only the beginning."
Thank you so much Tilda for sharing your reflections. It is so valuable to be reminded of our stories and the meaning they bring. Connecting to others through our stories is intimate, special, and powerful.
Perhaps Tilda's blog resonates with you, maybe you have a story to tell. Get in touch to share your own experiences.
Kind regards,
The Pathways Team.
