Starting Again, But Not From the Beginning: My Journey from Romania to Educational Psychology in the UK- Ioana's journey.

Hello and welcome to the next edition of the Pathways to Psychology blog. Today we hear from Ioana Volostiuc, Locum Educational Psychologist. 

Ioana shares a path filled with uncertainty, relentless change, and doubt, and yet she is here to tell the tale. To have built a successful career in a different country shows grit and belief in spades. Happy reading!

   Starting Again, But Not From     the Beginning: My Journey from            Romania to Educational                      Psychology in the UK

                    Ioana Volostiuc

Locum Educational Psychologist

My journey into psychology did not begin with a carefully mapped-out career plan. Looking back, it grew from a combination of difficult life experiences, responsibility from a young age, and a strong belief that education could create possibilities beyond the circumstances I found myself in.

I experienced significant loss early in life. My parents divorced, and when I was 16, my mother died unexpectedly. I lived with my stepfather and took on a significant caring role for my younger brother. Those years required me to grow up quickly. There was a great deal to navigate, emotionally and practically, and for a long time my focus was simply on moving forward.

Throughout it all, studying remained important to me. Education felt like something that belonged to me and something through which I could build a different future. I did not necessarily know what that future would look like, but I knew that I wanted to continue learning.

Choosing what to study was not straightforward. Financially, my options were limited, and university initially felt difficult to reach. Then I discovered a free course designed for teaching support staff. At the time, I could not have known how important that opportunity would become.

Through that course, I was introduced more closely to working with children with special educational needs. Something clicked. I began to recognise that this was not simply an area I found interesting. I felt drawn to understanding children whose development, learning or communication did not always follow the expected pathway, and to finding ways of helping them learn, participate and connect with the people around them.

That relatively small opportunity became the doorway into the career I have today.

I went on to complete my Bachelor's degree in the Science of Education while working part-time with children with special educational needs. Studying alongside practical work was demanding, but the two continually informed each other. What I learned academically helped me make sense of what I was seeing in my work with children, while those children made the theories I encountered in books real and meaningful.

I knew that I wanted to explore psychology more deeply, so I continued my studies with a Master's degree in Educational Psychology and Counselling. Alongside my studies, I continued working with children and families, including through ABA-based approaches, play therapy and supporting children within school settings.

Over time, my practice grew. Families began recommending me to other families and I gradually developed a large client base in my hometown. I became well known locally for my work with children with additional needs. It was an important period in my life. I was doing work that mattered to me, developing professionally and beginning to feel that I had found my place.

And then I decided to leave.

Not permanently, or at least that was not the plan.

Soon after completing my Master's degree, I moved temporarily to the UK. The intention was quite simple. I would spend some time in Britain and then return to Romania, where my fiancé and I planned to build our life and start our family. 

I arrived believing this would be a temporary chapter. 

I had no idea that it would become the place where I would have to rethink, rebuild and eventually rediscover my professional identity.

Starting again in a new country

When I arrived in the UK, I did what I already knew how to do. I worked with children with special educational needs. 

From the beginning, however, I needed to combine several jobs to earn enough to support myself. I worked privately with families as an ABA tutor and also took a role as a teaching assistant in a residential special school.

That experience was a shock.

Some of the children had very complex needs and could present with behaviours that challenged, including physical aggression towards staff. Although I already had experience of working with children with SEND, I remember feeling completely unprepared. The approach was different from what I had experienced in Romania, the children's needs were more complex than I was accustomed to, and initially I was frightened. 

But gradually, something changed. 

I began to realise that psychology was much bigger than applying a particular intervention or therapeutic approach.

It was compassion.

It was listening.

It was noticing the small details others might miss. 

It was trying to understand what a child might be communicating through their behaviour. 

It was recognising and responding to individual needs. It was working alongside other people and understanding that no single professional holds all the answers. 

As my understanding grew, the fear began to disappear.

At the same time, the UK was challenging some of my assumptions about what working with children with additional needs could look like. I was impressed by the standards of care I encountered, the attention given to staff wellbeing, and the energy and genuine enjoyment I saw in many of the people working with children with SEND. 

Slowly, what had been intended as a temporary stay started to feel less temporary.

   Searching for my professional                           identity

For several years, I searched for where I fitted professionally in the UK. 

I completed short courses, changed jobs and continued working with children and young people. I knew that I wanted to progress, but becoming an Educational Psychologist in the UK seemed so far removed from my reality that I did not even allow myself to seriously imagine it.

Until, through all my searching, I discovered that perhaps there was a route.

I learned that it might be possible for my existing qualifications and professional experience to be recognised and that I could apply for registration with the Health and Care Professions Council (HCPC).

"Easy," I thought. "I already have the qualifications and experience. I just need the registration."

It was not easy. I needed to improve my English. I had to gather extensive documentation and learn how to describe and evidence my education, training and professional experience against the required professional standards. I was doing all of this while working full-time.

At first, I thought it would take a few weeks. 

Weeks became months. 

Months became years.

At one point, I needed to gain experience working as an Assistant Educational Psychologist. These positions were not easy to find. I searched, applied and waited. There were moments when I started to wonder whether becoming an Educational Psychologist in the UK was simply not going to happen for me. 

I came close to giving up.

Then I secured an Assistant Educational Psychologist role. 

For the first time, the pathway I had been trying to find for so long became clearer. 

And then the pandemic arrived.

       Finding meaning during                             uncertainty

COVID-19 brought uncertainty for the whole world. By then, I was also building my own family and, professionally, I was working with children experiencing emotionally based school avoidance. Supporting children back into education during a pandemic was enormously complicated. We were encouraging young people to reconnect with school at a time when almost everything about school, safety and normality had changed. 

Yet, professionally, this was also a period of enormous growth for me. The meaning of my work began to change. I started working more closely with other professionals and agencies. I was no longer thinking only about what might help one child in front of me. I was beginning to understand how psychology could contribute to change around a child, within a school, and at a wider systemic level.

I became involved in co-leading a project supporting children experiencing emotionally based school avoidance, to return to education. I had excellent supervisors who challenged and encouraged me, and gradually my confidence began to grow. Perhaps for the first time, I started to see myself not as somebody trying to get into Educational Psychology, but as somebody already contributing psychologically.

By then, my thoughts about returning permanently to Romania had changed too. The UK had become home. My family was here and, after years of searching, my professional future appeared to be here as well. 

I could finally see that I was close. 

I was right. 

The email I had waited years to                          receive

In 2021, the email finally arrived.

My HCPC registration as an Educational Psychologist had been confirmed. 

I had imagined that moment many times during the years of paperwork, applications, improving my English, gaining experience and wondering whether I would ever reach the end of the process. 

When the confirmation actually arrived, I was heavily pregnant with twins. 

Looking back, the timing feels strangely fitting. Two parts of my identity that were going to transform my life were developing at exactly the same time. 

I had finally achieved the professional goal towards which I had worked for years, and almost immediately I stepped away from work to raise my young family. 

My Educational Psychology career would have to wait a little longer.

     Becoming an Educational                Psychologist, all over again

When I eventually felt ready to return to work, looking for Educational Psychologist positions became an almost daily activity. 

One application felt particularly significant. 

I applied to an employer I had approached years earlier when searching for an Assistant Educational Psychologist opportunity. They remembered me and thanked me for applying again. 

This time, however, I was returning as an HCPC-registered Educational Psychologist. 

That meant more to me than they probably realised. Somewhere between those two applications were years of work, learning, rejection, persistence, self-doubt and determination. I had continued developing myself, even when the pathway was unclear. 

They welcomed me into their team. 

So there I was: a new mother, finally beginning my first role as an Educational Psychologist in the UK. 

And I felt completely unprepared again. 

I questioned whether I knew what I was doing. I wondered whether I was good enough. There were moments when I thought perhaps I should go home. 

It felt as though I had spent years climbing a mountain, finally reached the top, and then discovered that I did not know how to stand there. 

But giving up did not feel right either.

I had worked too hard to get there.

    Putting the puzzle together

Looking back, one of the most important things I had to realise was that becoming an Educational Psychologist did not require me to become a completely different person or practitioner. 

The pieces were already there. 

Every child I had worked with. Every family who had trusted me. Every job I had taken because I needed to earn a living. Every course, qualification and assessment. Every difficult interaction and every successful one. The professional knowledge I had brought with me from Romania. Everything I had learned since coming to the UK. 

For a long time, those experiences had felt like disconnected pieces of a puzzle. 

My task was not to create a psychologist from nothing. My task was to put the pieces together and recognise the psychologist who was already there.

Again, I was fortunate. I had excellent supervisors, supportive colleagues and opportunities to demonstrate what I could do. Gradually, my confidence grew. 

At some point, without really noticing exactly when it happened, I stopped feeling like somebody trying to prove that she could be an Educational Psychologist in the UK. 

I simply felt like an Educational Psychologist.

Creating a career that fits my life

Today, my career looks different again. 

I run my own Educational Psychology practice and work with multiple local authorities. Independent practice gives me something particularly important at this stage of my life: the flexibility to continue doing work that I love while also being present for my children. 

I continue to receive positive feedback about my work, to learn from the Educational Psychologists I meet, and to become involved in projects that, a few years ago, I might have considered too ambitious to attempt.

One part of this journey feels especially meaningful. 

I now have opportunities to give something back to the Romanian community by supporting Romanian parents of children with SEND to understand the UK SEND system. Having lived and worked within two different educational cultures, I understand some of the confusion, uncertainty and cultural differences families can experience when trying to navigate this system. 

For years, being internationally trained sometimes made finding my professional place more complicated. 

Now I recognise that it is also one of my strengths.

   Starting again, but never from                   the beginning

My journey as an Educational Psychologist is certainly not finished. 

Perhaps that is one of the most important things I have learned. 

Becoming a psychologist was never a destination that I simply needed to reach. It continues to be a process of learning, discovering, questioning and developing abilities that I did not always know I had. 

When I think back to the young woman who came to the UK believing she was staying temporarily, or even further back to the 16-year-old girl who had experienced loss and responsibility far too early but remained convinced that education could offer her a way forward, neither could have predicted the path between there and here. 

It was certainly not a straight one. 

There were opportunities, but there were also closed doors. There were achievements, but there were periods of considerable self-doubt. There were times when I knew exactly where I wanted to go and other times when I could barely see the next step. I started again many times.

In a new country.

In a new language.

In unfamiliar jobs.

After rejection.

After becoming a mother.

After moments when my confidence disappeared and I wondered whether I really belonged.

But I was never starting from the beginning.

Every time, I was carrying everything I had learned before with me. 

So, to anyone considering psychology while looking at their own complicated pathway and wondering whether they have taken the wrong route, started too late, come from the wrong background, or accumulated experiences that do not seem to fit neatly together, I would say this:

Do not underestimate what you are carrying with you. 

Some experiences will give you knowledge. Others will give you compassion. Some will teach you how to listen. Others will challenge what you thought you knew. Some will build confidence, while others may temporarily take it away. 

Very few experiences are wasted. 

Sometimes, it is only when you look backwards that you can see how the pieces connect. 

I once thought my task was to find the correct pathway to become an Educational Psychologist. 

I understand it differently now. 

There was never one pathway. There was simply mine. 

And it is still unfolding.

Thank you so much Ioana for sharing a glimpse into your pathway to success. You are an inspiration and a hard act to follow.

Perhaps Ioana's experience resonates with your own, get in touch to add your own blog entry. We welcome trainees and registered Practitioner Psychologists, PWPs, CBT Practitioners, Counsellors, and Psychotherapists.

Kind regards,

The Pathways Team.