If someone had to look at my LinkedIn profile, they would get a polished summary of my education, work experience, and professional trajectory. Like every other adult who wants to achieve something professionally, my LinkedIn account acts like a portfolio that highlights important milestones and the roles that seem most relevant to making a career today.

But what goes unnoticed, rather undescribed, are the experiences that quietly shaped me as a person. The younger me always perceived career growth as academic achievements, multiple qualifications, job titles and promotions. But the past few years have eroded that belief and have made me realise that some of the most valuable lessons I learnt came from jobs that are stereotypically considered temporary, ordinary or just as a steppingstone to something else.

For me, an important juncture in this journey was working in the hospitality industry (in a quintessential British pub) while studying in the UK. The younger me would have questioned, ‘What was she doing working in a pub? Was that the reason she went to the UK?’ The older me answers, ‘She was learning adulthood.’

Initially it was a mere way of supporting myself financially in a country that is not my homeland and feeling thrilled about being independent. Little did I know that it would teach me so much about people. About growing up. About developing relationships that do not necessarily need a point of commonality in terms of language, race, or ethnicity. On a busy shift I met all imaginable kinds of personalities. Some customers were friendly, some were impatient.

I remember one particular incident where I was carrying four dessert plates to a table and dropped them just as I reached it. To make matters worse, some of it landed on the customer’s shirt. I was mortified. The customer was understandably upset and expressed their frustration quite publicly. Having grown up in an environment where disagreements were usually handled more privately, I remember feeling deeply embarrassed and humiliated. For a long time, I carried that incident as a personal failure.

Looking back now, I see it differently. The customer was not angry at me as a person; they were reacting to a situation that had inconvenienced and embarrassed them, and I simply happened to be the face of that situation in that moment. It taught me an important lesson about people: often, what feels directed at us is actually an expression of something much larger which they are experiencing. Learning to separate another person’s emotions from my own sense of self-worth was one of the earliest lessons that adulthood taught me.

I also learnt from my colleagues who were from different backgrounds, ethnicities, upbringing – yet we bonded on the shared experience of juggling studies, financial pressures, and our own personal challenges. These were the moments that taught me – adulthood is not about having everything figured out. Sometimes it is the overwhelm, the chaos. It is about showing up and doing your best, even when it gets seemingly difficult.

On the other hand, my kitchen experience there taught me a lot about practical leadership and people management. When a kitchen is operating at full capacity, you cannot bear to overthink. You need to make decisions instantly, collaborate and communicate clearly and support your colleagues through all the stress, while maintaining your focus on delivering – sometimes under unfavourable conditions.

Today when I read these skills and competencies in most job descriptions for HR and corporate roles, I am taken back to my time working behind the scenes in the pub kitchen – a place most people hardly associate with. The hospitality industry taught me that important skills and professional growth do not just occur in training programs, conference rooms or in a corporate desk-and-chair setting. They also happen on a busy weekend where a bunch of culturally diverse, variedly motivated people join hands to keep a kitchen running and business moving.

While my ability to work with people was shaped by hospitality, my ability to see people as core human beings was facilitated through my experience as a shadow teacher. I think that makes me place emphasis centrally on the ‘human’ aspect in the word ‘human resources’ as an HR professional.

Success in my job as a shadow teacher and behavioural therapist was not measurable in terms of speed, efficiency or other metrics, and progress was not at all immediate. Some days were exceptionally rewarding, while the others made me question every bit of my competency. Yet, there were countless moments that stayed with me long after my professional tenure ended.  That job ended up teaching me as much as, if not more, than what it taught the children I worked with.

Some days were difficult and emotionally heavy, and I struggled for quite some time in the job to be able to correctly process my feelings internally. I remember one particularly difficult day with a child who got extremely anxious and frustrated during a learning activity – which immediately set off alarm bells in my mind to come up with ways to gain control over the situation I thought was going to arise.

Instead, the child looked at me and said, “Can we stop? I am upset.” I was happily surprised, unexpectedly proud but also a tad bit guilty of anticipating a situation by being a bit judgmental and holding on to a pattern shown by an innocent child. It was a small moment, and the learning activity was left incomplete. Yet I felt like a major milestone had been achieved both by the child and me. The child had learnt to recognise their feelings and channel it the right way, whereas I had learnt to look at the child beyond the lens of their diagnosis and just as a human being. I learnt that no individual should ever be associated with labels, as they can never be the limits to their capability.

A seemingly grown up ‘me’ who used to assume that I should have everything in my control realised that I am still on the journey of learning how to understand and channelise my emotions and react thoughtfully. All that itself is a part of growing up and I guess it never ends. The adulthood lessons I got through this role were hardly a part of the job description. I learnt patience. I learnt resilience. I learnt empathy. Faster and in a much more meaningful way which I can internalise, and tick off some critical skills in the job descriptions of many corporate HR roles.

My qualifications, job titles and milestones on my resume tell one story. These untitled experiences in my journey based on human connections tell another. And honestly, the second story is the one that shapes me the most and helps me keep the ‘humane’ aspect of human resources alive.

About Dipti Deshpande:

Dipti is an ambitious HR professional with experience across hospitality, human resources, behavioural therapy and workforce coordination across India and UK. With an academic background in Human Resource Management and Organisational Psychology, she is particularly interested in workplace behaviour, employee experience and the human side of organisations. She enjoys understanding what motivates people, how meaningful workplace cultures are built, and the lessons that emerge from everyday experiences.

Outside of work, Deepti is passionate about music, theatre, reading and dance, and has an eye for creative writing. She has always been curious about the people, cultures and stories she has encountered through living abroad and looks forward to experiencing many more in times to come. She is keen to understand what drives people to thrive at work and wants to help create environments where both individuals and organisations can prosper hand in hand.

She can be reached at dipdesh98@gmail.com