Alright, let’s talk about Psychology at Westminster. It brings back some memories, actually. It feels like a lifetime ago now, but I genuinely spent a good chunk of time thinking about heading down that path.
I remember I was at a crossroads, you know? That point where you feel like you need to make a big decision about your future. School was finishing up, and everyone was talking about uni choices. Psychology sounded interesting – understanding people, what makes them tick. Westminster popped up because, well, it was in London, seemed like a decent place. I even got a prospectus, looked through the course details. Seemingly practical stuff mixed with the theory.
My process was pretty straightforward back then.
- Get the idea.
- Do a bit of research (mostly flicking through paper brochures, this was a while back!).
- Talk to a careers advisor – they nodded a lot, seemed encouraging.
- Imagine myself living the student life in London.
I visualized it quite clearly. Sitting in lecture halls, library sessions, maybe joining a society or two. The whole package. I even went down to London one weekend, not for an official open day, just wandered around the area near the university buildings. Trying to get a feel for the place. It felt busy, energetic. I thought, “Yeah, I could probably do this.”
Then life happened, as it often does.
Just as I was gearing up to really commit, maybe start writing the personal statement, something completely different landed in my lap. An old neighbour, Mr. Henderson, needed help setting up a small community workshop. He had all these tools, wanted to teach woodwork to local kids, retired folks, anyone interested really. But he was hopeless with organising things, getting the word out.
He basically cornered me one afternoon while I was putting the bins out. Said he’d pay me a bit, nothing fancy, just to help him get it off the ground for a few months. It sounded miles away from psychology lectures and academic essays. But honestly? The idea of actually building something tangible, working with my hands, helping Mr. Henderson out… it just clicked. It felt real in a way that reading about theories didn’t, right at that moment.
So, I took a detour. I told myself it was temporary. Psychology at Westminster could wait. I’d defer, or reapply later. But those few months helping Mr. Henderson turned into a year. The workshop became surprisingly popular. I found I was good at the practical side, the organising, even enjoyed teaching basic skills myself sometimes. Never did get back to that university application.
It’s funny. I rarely think about Psychology at Westminster now. My path went in such a different direction. Sometimes I see an article about psychology and wonder ‘what if?’, but mostly I’m just focused on the next project at the workshop. It wasn’t the plan, not at all. But it’s where I ended up, and it feels right. Just goes to show, you can research and plan all you want, but you never really know where you’ll land.
