I’m eight months into my preceptorship as a renal nurse and preparing to rotate onto the acute renal ward. As I approach this next step, I’ve been reflecting on what this year has really looked like, not the polished version, but the honest one.

Because preceptorship isn’t linear, and it certainly isn’t easy.

A few months ago, I wasn’t sure I was cut out for nursing. I was navigating grief. I was managing endometriosis while trying to function on long shifts. I was putting relentless pressure on myself to be the “perfect” nurse immediately. I compared myself constantly to my peers and felt frustrated when I didn’t know something. I convinced myself that not knowing meant not being good enough.

What I didn’t understand at the time was this - no nursing journey is the same, and no nurse starts perfectly.

Renal nursing, particularly dialysis, is an incredibly skilled and often undervalued area of practice. The knowledge and technical ability required cannot be rushed. The skills I’ve developed over the past eight months are the foundations I will continue to build on for the rest of my career.

I’ve strengthened my delegation skills. I’ve grown in confidence. I’ve learned how to escalate concerns appropriately. I can now confidently manage a bay of dialysis patients, contribute to MDT discussions, support unwell patients and advocate effectively.

That growth didn’t happen overnight. It happened through persistence, even on the days I doubted myself most.

This year hasn’t just been about developing clinical competence. It’s also been about personal healing. Following assessment by my local community mental health team, I was diagnosed with PTSD. I hadn’t fully appreciated how traumatic my nan’s passing had been, nor how witnessing both poor and outstanding nursing care during that time had shaped me. Seeing never events unfold and feeling powerless to intervene is something I would never wish on anyone, especially when the patient is a loved-one. 

The most significant change that turned my preceptorship year into something I’m proud of was shifting my focus.

Instead of constantly looking ahead to postgraduate study, band progression and specialisation, I started focusing on the present. I’ve stopped referring to myself as a “newly qualified nurse” and instead call myself a junior nurse within my team.

One of my biggest struggles has been comparison. At 31, many nurses my age have been qualified for a decade. They’ve progressed through the bands. They’ve specialised. They’ve started families. At times, I’ve felt behind, frustrated that I didn’t realise sooner that I wanted to be a nurse. I’ve even dismissed my previous undergraduate and postgraduate degrees as detours. But they weren’t detours. They were preparing.

Those experiences gave me resilience, perspective, and transferable skills that shape the nurse I am today. There is no “correct” timeline in nursing. There is only your timeline, and for me, it depended on life experience.

Social media often presents the first year of nursing as a highlight reel. But the reality is that every nurse experiences highs and lows. We question ourselves. We make mistakes. We feel overwhelmed. We sometimes wonder if we belong.

Add to that the ongoing pressures facing the NHS and the rhetoric around nursing pay and value, and it can be easy to feel underappreciated. Yes, you might hear that you could earn more elsewhere. But most of us didn’t choose this profession for the salary. We chose to care, to advocate and to bring compassion into moments that matter.

What has helped me most is simple: finding one joyous moment in every shift. One patient interaction. One kind word from a colleague. One small success.

Preceptorship hasn’t been perfect. It hasn’t been easy. But it has been transformative. This year taught me that growth doesn’t always feel empowering while you’re in it. Sometimes it feels messy, emotional and exhausting. But when you step back, you realise just how far you’ve come.

If you’re in your first year and quietly wondering whether you’re enough, you are. Your journey doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s, and it shouldn’t.  And if you’re still showing up, still learning, still caring, that’s already a win.