How I Took a Series of Risks to Find Success: The Power of Backing Yourself
I’ve always wanted to be successful. It’s a feeling I think many of us share—a longing to make something of ourselves, to leave a mark, to prove our worth. But what I’ve come to realize is that success doesn’t come from certainty or comfort. It’s bred from risk, discomfort, and, most importantly, from backing yourself—even when you’re not sure what the next step is.
My journey wasn’t always filled with this kind of clarity. I grew up somewhere in the middle—not particularly popular, nor particularly invisible. At school, I was neither top of the class nor star of the field. I was, in hindsight, remarkably unremarkable. But I held onto this belief that I was meant for something more. University, I thought, would be my proving ground.
Spoiler: It wasn’t.
Despite my hopes, university didn’t deliver the transformational experience I’d imagined. My attendance scraped 20%, and I barely connected with my peers - not that I tried. Instead of thriving, I drifted, making decisions I thought were well-reasoned but, in hindsight, were more escapism than strategy. I clung to the idea that university was where I’d find my success, but I lacked the curiosity to make it happen.
Ironically, the biggest lesson I learned wasn’t from my classes but from my failure: the critical importance of curiosity, self-reflection, and constantly learning. It was this realization—paired with a series of risks I was forced to take later—that ultimately changed my trajectory.
I find it fascinating how the events we perceive as disastrous in the moment often become the periods we are most grateful for, the ones that teach us the most. It wasn’t until the perfect storm of events—the pandemic, my parents’ separation, and the end of my aimless degree—that I was forced to confront uncomfortable truths: about relationships, personal accountability and the fragility of plans. I was struck by the reality of my dim prospects—proof of how little accountability I’d taken for my own future.
Together, these events acted as a mirror, reflecting back the gap between where I was and where I wanted to be. They forced me to confront an essential realisation which should be abundantly obvious to anyone: I am and you are the only person who can change my or your life.
Facing this perfect storm of ‘unfortunate’ realizations, I knew something had to change and, fundamentally, I would have to change. It wasn’t enough to acknowledge that I had been coasting through life; I needed to turn things upside down to rewrite my story. For the first time, I embraced the idea of taking a risk, taking risks was the only way out—not one driven by external expectations, but a decision I made for myself. That decision was to pursue a master’s degree.
Choosing to return to education wasn’t an easy call. It was heavily weighted with a strong gut feeling and minimal applied logic. After the lackluster effort I’d put into my undergraduate years, I questioned whether I had what it took to excel academically and apply myself. But this time, it was different. I wasn’t ticking a box or following a pre-set path. The master’s program wasn’t just another step; it was an investment in my future—a re-run to actually learn something.
With that mindset, I approached the experience with a determination I’d never tapped into before. I committed fully, immersing myself in the coursework, collaborating with peers, and pushing myself out of my comfort zone. The result? Not only did I perform well academically, but I also discovered a sense of purpose and capability that was previously foreign.
Graduating with a distinction was a significant milestone, but I knew it was just the beginning. I had dived headfirst into the daunting process of applying for graduate schemes in the background. I submitted application after application—well over 50 in total. Rejection was a constant companion. It was brutal. It was natural to question whether effort would result in an outcome or would it all be a waste of time. But every rejection taught me something: how to refine my applications, improve my interview technique, and persevere in the face of setbacks. Every rejection presented an opportunity, no matter how hard that was to accept at the time.
Make no mistake, this process was gruelling, routinely accepting that there was improvement to be gleaned from every “thank you but no thank you” email. To swallow your pride every time you were rejected to see what absurdly general feedback could be offered. Each and every humbling was well humbling. From the beginning, I knew it was a numbers game. I wasn’t naïve enough to assume I had some special interviewing ability by this point. I was quite sure that if talent existed, I was proof it was shared around. I knew I’d have to invest time—and emotionally invest myself—into each and every process which of course every morning I sprung up ready to go with all the unspent energy from yesterday.
I held hope in the knowledge that all I needed was one. I did endless numerical, logical, and verbal reasoning assessments, case studies, ridiculous group exercises such as cave rescues, passionately making cases for company initiatives which were quite frankly all terrible, video interviews, presentations, 1-1 interviews, and full-day long assessment centres. I attended 9 of these dreaded assessment centres and, by the end of my process, I had been given 3 job offers. Well, 2, one not initially.
Importantly, one of these 3 job opportunities inspired me with absolutely no hope. In my final stage interview, I had asked the interviewers what their least favourite things about the company were. I had decided that this job was not the one, unless I really hated myself and wanted no future, hence what was quite a negative question. Shockingly, they were rather honest. The HR rep said she was frequently frustrated at how little gets done, and my ‘would be’ manager sold the dream when he admitted he hadn't had a Christmas off in 28 years. The importance of this slight segue relates back to the title of this article: Back yourself. To no surprise, I politely declined this opportunity, in faith that another would come along.
What’s the saying? “You wait ages for a graduate job offer, and then two come along at once.”...two good ones at least. I secured a spot on a competitive graduate program for one of the biggest energy companies in the world. But if you have been following along, it wasn’t that straightforward, clearly was never going to be. Initially I was rejected. So, I had moved on, I had taken up another offer in a different city. I moved into my new apartment, and without exaggeration, the precise moment the last large cardboard box hit the floor, a notification pinged on my phone an email from that energy company asking if I would move to London.
I spent the next few days anxiously and quite strenuously mulling over what to do, triangulating the pros and cons with my most trusted. I knew it wouldn’t be a great deal of upheaval and London would bring its own set of challenges. But ultimately, London and the greater job opportunity was a no-brainer only shackled by the immediate nuisance of reversing my current situation. The initial rejection motivated me to work harder, refine my skills, and prove them wrong. London and other major cities are the gauntlets of all gauntlet’s.
Once I had confirmed my place into a graduate program, I knew I was in a position to prove not only to the company but to myself that I could succeed. The program is rigorous, I realise now my first three months were no indication of my last three months. I’ve learned that I am very good at some things and terrible at others - it requires critical thinking, problem-solving, and resilience. The sense of responsibility that had grown in me through years of personal growth and setbacks have translated into high performance. I found myself thriving in this structured yet dynamic environment.
The experience of the graduate program has been incredible. In what is relatively a short period of time, I’ve learned so much, met fantastic people, and contributed to numerous projects. A highlight was my first-year performance review, where I received the highest mark possible. I didn’t appreciate in the moment how difficult that is to achieve in your first year but others have since helped me realise the achievement. Slight vindication for what was not immediate appreciation in my initial interview from my employers ‘to be’. I was also selected as one of only 250 employees to attend an event for high-performing employees—out of a company with over 50,000 employees. This recognition was a milestone in my journey, showing that my efforts were being noticed.
Beyond the numbers and performance metrics, I also had the chance to make a meaningful impact. I was part of the highest fundraising team for a Cancer Research UK challenge, and I have received incredible feedback from colleagues and senior leaders. These moments of validation gave me more confidence, reinforcing that my decision to back myself was the right one.
Looking back, I can’t help but be grateful for the obstacles I faced. Each one led me here—to a place of strength, confidence, and clarity. Had I not taken that risk to return to school, pushed through the rejections, or switched graduate scheme in the eleventh hour for a company who didn’t initially want me, I would not be where I am today. The journey isn’t over. Every day brings a new challenge, but I continue to take risks, to grow, and to back myself. And I share my story with others to show that, no matter where you start or how many setbacks you face, with the right mindset, determination, and willingness to embrace personal responsibility, you too can realise your potential. This is just the beginning, onwards and upwards.