I created Infinite Raven in 2023, as an act of optimism and intention.

I had just finished my first year of the Qualification in Occupational Psychology (QOP) with the British Psychological Society (BPS). My first two projects hadn’t gone to plan, and I’d just received feedback that I wasn’t understanding the requirements. I felt lost and uncertain about everything.

The qualification is a doctoral-level program. It will give me the title of Chartered Psychologist and eligibility to register with the Health and Care Professions Council (HCPC). I’d also be able to call myself an Occupational Psychologist, which is a protected title in the UK.

I don’t need chartership to practice, and I can already call myself an Organisational Psychologist. But I needed to plant some hedges against the night. Something to kick my imposter syndrome to the kerb.

After becoming fascinated by psychology as a young person and earning my master’s degree, I set out boldly to take over the world and carve out a career for myself. I got my dream job. And that’s when everything fell apart.

I found myself on the other side of the country in a company that rapidly changed beyond recognition. I was isolated, overwhelmed, and totally unable to summon the social resources or confidence I needed to fly in those cutthroat skies.

So I moved back to my hometown and spent the next several decades navigating an increasingly bewildering job market, shackled to the interests of employers who typically showed no respect for my training or ability. I became focused on feeding a mortgage monster indifferent to dreams.

Sometimes, some light would shine through and I would have an opportunity to carry out research, design some training, or make recommendations that made a difference. But for the most part, I lost confidence in myself and retreated into being what I was paid to be, and no more. I became infected with transferable skills, which formed a forest of weeds that swarmed over the work I had wanted to do.

Then a day came when I realised my 50th birthday was a perch I was soon going to have to land on. And I realised I wanted to be the truest version of me when I did so – the me I wanted to be when I grew up.

I began trying to restart a rusted, looted, and neglected career after nearly 30 years away, and trying to do it while working a full-time day job (the mortgage monster isn’t finished with me yet).

But then, a year in, there I was, adrift and uncertain. The thought of three more years, six more projects, and the painstaking standards of reflection, best practice, and ethics felt overwhelming.

“What was I thinking?” I wondered. “I can’t do this. I’m too old for this.”

It isn’t easy like it was studying when I was younger. I’m incapable of staying awake after 8 o’clock in the evening. I walk into rooms and forget why I’m there, and the biggest lie I tell myself daily is, “I don’t need to write that down; I’ll remember it.” What made me think I could do this?

And what’s the point? By the time I get Chartered, I’ll be 51 and finally giving myself permission to build a practice. What’s the point when I could just accept that it’s too late? That there’s no point because I’m past the age of building, growing, creating, and innovating. That’s for young people.

But then I imagined myself at 80, looking back at this moment. Thirty whole years would have passed; a lifetime in career terms and totally worth having. The best time to have done this would have been 30 years ago. The next best time to do this is now.

It occurred to me: would I ever forgive myself for giving up?

How many things have I started and not seen through? Would I forgive myself if I did it again?

I realised I was flapping my wings as hard as I could and only getting a few inches off the ground. I needed a magic feather. Something I could focus on. A tangible, physical manifestation of the future I wanted.

Infinite Raven.

In 20 minutes, I registered the business at Companies House, bought a domain name and email address, and suddenly it was real.

For nearly a year, the Raven has been quietly roosting in the back of my office. It has been a touchstone for me, every time this journey feels a little far-fetched, I remind myself it’s real.

Right now, the company is small. It’s just me, part-time, with half a handful of clients while I juggle a full-time day job and focus on meeting the requirements for chartership. My capacity is limited, but that’s intentional.

I am carefully laying a path one brick at a time, creating something aspirational to guide me through 50 and beyond.

Along the way, I thought I would write about the journey. I love to write, and I have stories to tell about how I chose the name and tagline, about struggling to create my website, and about managing my ADHD and kaleidoscopic time. I also have opinions and ideas that need some sunlight and air. I think about things. I am one of those people.

By creating an audience, I am creating a kingdom of promises that I can hold myself accountable to.

I also hope that along the path, I’ll connect with people who want to work with me in the future. Whether you’re a client, collaborator, or someone curious about how the Raven’s story unfolds – you are welcome to tag along.