Yesterday, my mum turned up with a bag in her hand and asked if she could stay the night. She’d had an argument with my step-dad, and she didn’t want to be around him. I let her in, and she spent the entire afternoon and evening offloading it all onto me. Once she left today, I realised something.

I don’t want to help people.

I really don’t mean that selfishly or nastily. What I mean is, I’ve always felt that I should help people. I almost feel duty-bound to go into a career that is all about helping people. I helped out last week with one of Amelia’s friends when her ex assaulted her. I helped Mum yesterday (which I would probably do again); I help Karen every time she asks, I help out Susie when she has a problem and wants to talk, and Dad often asks for my advice on things, too.

The biggest problem is how much I feel I should.

I don’t want to anymore. I want an easygoing, carefree life. I don’t want to take on other people’s problems anymore. I’ve spent my life helping and rescuing people, and I think it’s time I stopped.

I want a career doing something I love, something fulfilling. Last week I started looking at volunteering and was applying for positions in helping people, but the only volunteering position that made me gasp with excitement wanted a photographer/blog writer/historian. I said to Amelia, ‘This is practically my dream job ’. I was beyond excited. I literally couldn’t fill the application form in quickly enough! It’s that passion that I think I should be listening to.

It’s a lifetime of negative conditioning from all angles telling me work should be hard work, and that it shouldn’t be something you enjoy; it should just be something you do to earn money, no matter whether it fulfils you or not. Is that right?

Why are we conditioned to believe we should work solely for money? Why can’t we work for pleasure, meaning and money? Why can’t we choose to do something we really love that doesn’t feel like work and brings money in, too?