My PhD Journey: Doubt, Growth, and Finding Balance

For a long time, I believed a PhD was only for a very specific type of person: someone with extraordinary natural intellect, absolute certainty about their research interests, and a lifelong passion for a very niche topic. Someone who already knew everything. In short, not how I saw myself.

My research used mixed methods to investigate social support in combat-exposed military personnel who deployed to Afghanistan, but the journey to getting there was far less linear and far more human than expected.

Self-Doubt

After completing my MSc, I watched several friends glide effortlessly into PhDs. I didn’t feel capable of doing the same. My preconceptions about my own abilities quietly blocked me from moving forward. I told myself I wasn’t “PhD material,” without really understanding what a PhD really entailed.

It took me years to realise that the purpose of a PhD is to learn the field and develop skills, not to arrive as an expert. You’re not expected to have everything figured out from the beginning.

Four years later, when those same friends had finished their PhDs and spoke positively about their experiences, something shifted. That became my evidence: if they can do it, I probably can too.

Taking the Leap

When I saw a PhD advertised, my partner encouraged me to apply. The familiar self-doubt crept in before the interview, but I leaned on mindfulness and mental imagery - tools that would later become recurring characters throughout this journey.

Past job interviews had been… tense. The kind where no one smiles, and you replay every answer for the next decade. So, I braced myself. Instead, I was greeted by warm, friendly interviewers who later became my brilliant supervisors (shout out to Nicola Fear and Howard Burdett), who immediately put me at ease. My third supervisor, Laura Palmer, later joined my supervisory team, providing a qualitative focus and playing a huge role in the success of the qualitative project.

Having three supervisors with different perspectives was invaluable. Their combined insights shaped my work in ways I couldn’t have anticipated.

The Early Confusion (and Getting Started Anyway)

I began my PhD feeling simultaneously lost and excited – a confusing emotional cocktail.

Was I supposed to be writing already?
Did every decision need supervisor approval?
What was a thesis even meant to look like?

I’d never read a full thesis before, and that alone felt like an academic crime. Other PhD students encouraged me to “just get going,” and slowly, project by project, I did.

Once I understood what the end goal was, everything became far less overwhelming. One day, almost without realising it, I had a thesis.

The Reality vs. the Horror Stories

Before starting, I’d stumbled across countless blogs and scare stories: PhDs causing obsession, sleepless nights, no work–life balance, and complete abandonment of health.

Thankfully, that wasn’t my experience at all.

I made a conscious decision early on: if I was researching health and wellbeing, it would be deeply ironic to destroy my own in the process. I prioritised balance – working, walking, seeing friends and family, exercise classes, and maintaining variety outside academia.

The PhD became a key part of my life, but not my entire identity.

Loving the Research

One of the greatest joys was being able to focus deeply on a single topic. I had the privilege of speaking with participants who shared powerful experiences – from life on the battlefield to life afterwards, including family dynamics and relationships.

I’ve always been fascinated by human behaviour, relationships and mental health, and this work deepened that curiosity even further.

I loved the variety that came with a mixed-methods PhD: interviews, talking to people, hearing interesting stories, data analysis, writing, reflection, critical thinking, developing my organisational skills, and getting creative on Canva. It allowed me to draw on a wide range of strengths rather than being boxed into one way of working.

The PhD also opened many doors, including opportunities to travel to Switzerland (pictured above) and Canada to present my research, experiences I’m extremely grateful for.

The Viva: The Emotional Peak

The most emotionally challenging part of the entire journey was the viva.

My strengths lie in deep thinking, reflection, and careful consideration - not rapid, on-the-spot answers under pressure. By the time I reached the viva, I was already emotionally exhausted. The final three weeks before submission were intense, and work-life balance had well and truly left the building. Whilst I tried to maintain distance from my PhD throughout the process, at this point I felt deeply attached to the work I’d poured so much into.

Before the viva, mindfulness and mental imagery made a dramatic comeback - a real full-circle moment. I prepared intensively. Post-it notes took over my 450-page thesis like an academic infestation. I went on an unreasonable number of “reflective” walks, practised improving my posture to radiate confidence, and followed self-help advice with alarming dedication. If a book, blog, or podcast claimed it could help me excel in the viva, I was absolutely doing it.

I left the viva convinced it had gone terribly. In reality, my examiners gave very positive feedback. It was a powerful reminder of how easily the mind can create dramatic (and completely inaccurate) stories based on old beliefs.

Applying the Research to Real Life

Studying social networks came with both insight and responsibility. While learning about the structure and function of support systems, I became even more intentional about nurturing my own relationships.

I had always valued social connections, but this research deepened that appreciation - not just prioritising friendships but also reflecting on their quality and meaning. It became apparent that family and friends played a central role in the PhD process for me.

What I Learned: Top Tips for Doing a PhD

If I could offer advice to anyone considering or starting a PhD, it would be this:

• Start early; this will ease the burden of the final year
• Get regular feedback, and don’t see it as criticism; it’s a gift designed to improve your work
• Put good systems in place, create organised folders, properly named documents, and set weekly goals
• You’re not supposed to have it all figured out at the start; that’s the whole point of doing it
• Expect to delete and rewrite work: that is the learning process
• Try not to make it your entire identity; it helps to zoom out and see it as a piece of work you’re completing. A small setback is not a judgment on you as a person
• Don’t neglect your health: the experience will be much more enjoyable with good sleep, movement, and nourishing food
• It is a marathon, not a sprint; enjoy the process of slow, in-depth reading and writing

Final Thoughts

A PhD isn’t about being extraordinary from day one. For me, it was about growth, learning, balance, and slowly unlearning the belief that I wasn’t capable… and that might be the most valuable outcome of all!