People sometimes ask me why I chose a career in HR.
I smile politely, take a long, philosophical sip of coffee, and say:
“I didn’t choose HR. HR just sort of… happened to me. Like a surprise pregnancy. Or lower back pain after 35.”

Some years ago, I didn’t lie awake at night dreaming of policy manuals, internal investigations, or soul-sucking Excel files named something like “2025_Employees_FINAL_REALLY_FINAL.xlsx.”

No. I was into people. Psychology. Stories. Emotions. The messy, beautiful chaos of what makes us human. And, fine, maybe a bit of workplace drama. (Don’t judge. We all cope in our own ways.)

So, how did I end up here? Easy. By accident.
Which, let’s be honest, in HR terms, is basically a recruitment strategy.

HR: It’s Not Human Resources, It’s Human Realities

In the beginning, I thought, “This is just temporary. I’ll do this for a while and then move on to something more glamorous. Like neuroscience. Or alpaca farming.”

Then someone cried in my office.
Then someone else told me they felt safe with me.
Then someone thanked me for making them feel human in a system that often forgets what that means.
And one day, I realized: I wasn’t just processing forms. I was holding space.

(Also, I cried in the office, too. So there was that.)

HR: More Than Just Headaches in a PowerPoint

What they don’t tell you is that HR is not for the emotionally undercaffeinated. It’s not just about birthday cards and inspirational posters in the pantry room.

It’s about:

• Navigating conflicts where both parties are 98% wrong but very passionate about their positions and, of course, being right.
• Rewriting job descriptions to make them sound less like medieval torture.
• Explaining for the fifth time that GDPR is not a new brand of printer paper.
• Navigating emails signed with “Best regards” but dripping in passive aggression.

And somewhere between the spreadsheets, the people drama, and the 487th version of the hybrid work policy, I realized something:

HR is where humanity meets business. And not always gently.

They say HR professionals are “people persons.” What they mean is:

• We can say, “That’s an interesting perspective” when someone says they were born to be a CEO but can’t open a PDF.
• We know how to smile through existential dread while trying to explain that you can’t call your colleague a “toxic spreadsheet goblin” in writing.

Being a “people person” means knowing when to listen, when to nod, and when to fake a Teams call so you can cry silently in the toilet.

Why I Stayed? Great question!

There’s something weirdly thrilling about a freshly updated policy or the Sickness Benefits Act. I won’t lie. What can I say, compliance is sexy!
But there’s always that one manager who forgets the basics. You know, “contracts,” “approvals,” “the entire labor law.”

At least once a week, I fantasize about tattooing “This is not optional” on my forehead. In Calibri. Size 11.

There are days when I want to quit it all, open a book café, serve people croissants and books, and never again hear the words “employee engagement.”

And yet… I stay.

HR Is Also (Weirdly) Beautiful

It’s the new hire crying in week one because they feel like they finally belong.
It’s the single mom who says, “Thank you for making my return from maternity leave feel human.”
It’s the person resigning who admits, “I hated the job, but I always felt understood by you.”

HR is like emotional archaeology.
You dig through layers of frustration, burnout, corporate jargon, and find something soft, vulnerable, and painfully human underneath.
And sometimes, when the stars align and no one has mentioned payroll errors in 48 hours — that includes your own heart, too.

That’s when I remember why I’m still here.

Because HR is not just about contracts and compliance.
It’s about connection. Holding space. Making work slightly less soul-crushing.

It’s about being the person who notices when someone is drowning quietly, and offering a life raft in the form of a one-on-one and a really good coffee.

Final Thoughts (and Possibly a Tissue)

So no, I didn’t choose HR. HR chose me. Like a weird, needy cat that sometimes bites.

These days, I still work in HR. But I also reflect, write, and train to become a (good) coach. I’m learning how to hold space for others, without losing myself in the spreadsheet storm.

Because the truth is, HR, like life, is absurd. Beautiful. Frustrating. Messy. But mostly human,
And I’m here for all of it.

One policy. One story. And one sarcastic internal monologue at a time.