It starts with nerves. Not the textbook kind—these are real, physical, tight-in-your-stomach nerves. The kind that hit you at 6:30am when you're packing lunch, triple-checking your name badge, and trying to remember how to pronounce “posterolateral” without sounding like a fraud.

On her first day, Emily arrived 20 minutes early to the private practice where she’d landed her first physio job. She sat in the car rehearsing her greeting: firm handshake, smile, eye contact. Inside, the clinic was already humming. Patients chatting at the front desk. A senior physio finishing up a note. The smell of deep heat and fresh coffee. Emily stepped in, heart racing.

The first few days were mostly observation, shadowing her senior colleague, Jess, who handled back-to-back patients with an ease Emily couldn’t imagine ever possessing. “You’ll get there,” Jess assured her after a long day. “You just need to find your rhythm.”

That rhythm didn’t come immediately. The first month was a blur of SOAP notes, awkward pauses in subjective assessments, and second-guessing treatment choices. Emily spent nights re-reading clinical guidelines, watching YouTube taping tutorials, and texting unifriends for reassurance. “Does everyone feel this unsure?”

Turns out—yes.

Week five was a turning point. A young netballer came in with an ankle sprain. Emily led the initial consult solo, and although her hands were sweating by the end of it, she’d managed it well. She checked her notes twice before giving advice, but the advice was sound. She saw the girl improve over the following weeks, walking in with a grin and less of a limp. “Thanks, Em,” she said casually at the door one day. “I feel heaps better.” It was a small moment, but it landed hard.

By the three-month mark, things felt… possible. Not easy—but no longer terrifying. Emily had built a rapport with several patients who requested to rebook with her. One older man joked, “You’ve got good elbows. Keep them sharp.” She began contributing to team discussions and even led a warm-up session for the netball club the clinic supported. It was the first time she stood in front of a group without wanting to sink into the floor.

She also started enjoying the quieter in-between moments — scribbling case reflections in her notebook during lunch, chatting with the reception team about coffee orders, or debriefing tricky cases with Jess. The small routines gave her structure; the small wins gave her confidence.

“I remember suddenly realising that I wasn’t just guessing anymore,” Emily recalls. “I was actually making decisions that helped people feel better — and they started trusting me. That felt huge. I found myself really enjoying it, not just surviving it.”

By month five, her diary was mostly full, and she no longer needed to rehearse every subjective question. She’d seen enough variations of shoulder pain to start developing her own clinical style — still evidence-based, but more confident in knowing when to adapt.

Of course, not everything was smooth. She still had days where patients didn’t improve as expected, or where a session went off track. But she learned not to take it as failure. Instead, she’d jot down a quick note — what worked, what didn’t, what to try next time — and move on. Jess’s voice echoed in her head often: It’s not about getting everything right. It’s about staying curious.

Now, six months in, Emily walks into the clinic with ease. She jokes with patients, manages her time more efficiently, and knows when to ask for a second opinion. Her posture has changed — less tense, more open. She’s not an expert yet, but she knows she’s not a beginner anymore either.

And she’s starting to look ahead.

“There’s still so much I want to learn,” she says. “Sometimes I catch myself daydreaming about working overseas — maybe somewhere like Canada or the UK. I’d love to see how physios work in different systems and bring that perspective back one day.”

For now, though, she’s focused on deepening her skills and building stronger therapeutic relationships. Her goals are shifting from simply making it through the week to becoming the kind of clinician who mentors others — like Jess mentored her.

And in some small ways, she’s already started.