Released On 13 October 2025

Linda's Blog: Surviving or Thriving?

I've just clocked up 21 years since qualifying as a solicitor which, aside from making me feel old, makes me think back to my first job and how I doubted I'd reach my first anniversary, let alone get this far.

I walked in on my first day to be told someone with four years' experience had left and I was taking over her files. I was led to her old desk, given her handover note and left to it. I can still feel the rapid lurch of my stomach as I sat down and started to read. It may as well have been written in another language. This being long before cloud storage and paperless desks, two floor to ceiling cupboards full of files served as a constant, physical reminder of everything I was suddenly responsible for. On the other side of the room was an associate who should have been my go-to person for questions but, having given a brief smile and hello, he'd turned his back and picked up his phone - a pattern that continued daily. I hadn't been expecting a welcome party but I certainly wasn't expecting this!

Little changed over the next few days and weeks. I was daunted by the work and terrified in equal measures by my new colleagues and clients. The partners and associates covered my documents with red pen but didn't explain what I'd done wrong or the reasons for their improvements. The clients were quick to make it clear they weren't impressed by my reluctance to give them an immediate answer on the phone without checking it. I felt perpetually sick and was scared that I'd be called to a meeting with HR and told it wasn't working out.

I spent a lot of time looking things up, comparing notes with fellow newly qualified solicitors and hovering outside the offices of some of the more approachable junior associates, waiting for an opportunity to ask a question. I mainly worried. I woke up agonising about what lay ahead and the adrenaline surged through my body until I collapsed into bed at night, mentally exhausted but unable to sleep because I'd left the office late and was still wired.

I developed a habit of telling myself "have faith" as I walked to the office every day, long before it was fashionable to have an affirmation. I really, really, wanted to leave but the importance of having been "kept on" after my two year training contract had been drummed into me and I was acutely aware that some of my trainee intake had not been offered jobs and were desperately hunting for a role. I didn't want to admit failure and find myself unemployed and I didn't want to be judged as someone who hadn't made the grade. I told myself I had to stay a year before I could give a credible reason for leaving what on paper was "such a good job".

One partner was kind enough to take me out for lunch occasionally but my dreams of wise words and a metaphorical arm around the shoulder were quickly dashed as it became apparent he just wanted to reminisce about the "good old days" when he was at my stage. Not only was he not a mentor, he also always insisted that I have an alcoholic drink which dulled my brain and made me more anxious about my ability to do my afternoon's work.

I quickly learned that my parents, although well meaning, also provided no practical advice. Both medics, they understood long hours but couldn't fathom why I continued to plug away at a job I appeared to hate or why it mattered so much to me when no lives were at stake.

Recalling all this makes me wonder what did keep me going. Alongside the intangible inner drive that refused to allow me to give up, the answer is my tribe. My fellow trainees who'd qualified with me and were going through their own version of hell and my friends and boyfriend who accepted my long hours, listened through the tears and told me to keep going. Through repetition, resilience and a lot of hard graft, I gradually learned what I had to do. When I finally completed my first year I realised that whilst I wasn't exactly confident, I didn't feel quite so out of my depth, had built some valuable camaraderie with the more junior associates in the team and could see a future with the firm.

I like to think that leaving a newly qualified to sink or swim wouldn't happen these days. Whilst there's no doubt I grew through what I went through, it was neither pleasant nor necessary. I suspect there are now controls in place and young people are far more confident about speaking out when things aren't right.

If, however, you are at the start of your career and feeling like I did, please take comfort: two decades have passed but I still remember and I see you. Don't be me. Don't suffer in silence and wish each day away. Use any resources you can lay your hands on to enable you to try your best and if you still don't get it, take a deep breath, explain what you've done and ask for help. You don't have to just survive as you learn and develop, you can actually thrive.

Linda is a lawyer with two children. She and her husband both work full time and juggle the school run and everything else between them.