by Wise Centre for Economic Justice PhD Candidate, Katy Gillespie
Three years, three months, and many mixed emotions later, I submitted what I called ‘the beast’ on the 17th of January, 2025. Having dreamed of this moment for so long – literally since my early days as a baby PhD student—a wave of emotions hit me, both positive and negative. Everyone tells you that the relief will be overwhelming, that the weight lifted from your shoulders will be monumental, and that you’ll feel light as a feather. For me, however, relief came mixed with sudden anxiety: had I forwarded the wrong PDF file? Had the research degrees committee received some ridiculous non-PhD document? I later discovered that I was not alone in this crippling fear – apparently, it’s a rite of passage for the recently submitted.
Yet, despite the lingering nerves, I can say with certainty that it feels like an incredible accomplishment and a significant milestone in my academic journey. Those final months of last-minute tweaking and late evenings in the office were worth it. I feel very lucky to say that, while there were some bumps along the road, my PhD journey was relatively smooth – or as smooth as a process like this can be.
I vividly remember a fellow PhD student reacting in shock when they learned I didn’t work weekends. Another, in my first year, shared that they had multiple breakdowns and teary episodes, suggesting that this was something every PhD student endured. Now, I’m not saying that I didn’t have some low moments – everyone does in this crazy world – but I never experienced extreme lows or worked through weekends (okay maybe some). Reflecting on why this might have been, two key things stand out: community and work/life mindset.
The Power of Community
Even throughout my undergraduate and master’s degrees, I was lucky to be surrounded by a strong support system. My family, friends, and loved ones consistently motivated me and expressed unwavering support that I was more than capable of finishing this chapter in my life. Having a strong support network proved even more important when commencing the PhD journey. The word ‘fortunate’ comes to mind when I reflect on my strong supervisory team and wider support network of the WiSE Centre for Economic Justice – Nina Teasdale, Sara Cantillon, and Olga Biosca. They were the wind to my PhD sails, the PhD mothers who supported ‘the beast’ throughout every turn and questionable chapter, providing unwavering support and constructive guidance. Having kind, compassionate, and incredible supervisors – whom I met monthly, as well as for informal catch-ups, coffee, wine and lunch sessions – makes reaching that final stage much easier.
Being warmly welcomed by the fantastic colleagues of WiSE has also been invaluable; they have been integral to my community at GCU. At WiSE, PhD students are respected as part of the wider team, encouraged to contribute to projects and recognised for their value. While I was fortunate that my studentship was based here, I also was proactive and active in the PhD community to connect with others – my village of people did not just merely turn up one day on my office doorstep. Instead, I put myself forward as the PhD president and postgraduate representative for my department and attended several academic and non-academic events. While somewhat scary at the time, these decisions were important to fostering meaningful connections and networks with fellow peers and colleagues that I remain in touch with today. Growth does not come by staying in your comfort zone. We must motivate ourselves to be comfortable in the uncomfortable, take risks and attend that event alone – because you never know who you might meet!
In my PhD acknowledgements, I compared the process to raising a child – it truly takes a community to support a PhD candidate to completion, and I deeply believe that. Knowing I had people to turn to, whether for academic feedback or simply to listen to my ramblings about research, was invaluable. In many ways, my thesis doesn’t feel like a solo project. It is an amalgamation of everyone who provided input, edited drafts, or simply supported me along the way. And, of course, my participants – without whom this research would not exist – played an integral role in shaping this work.
Work/Life Mindset: Balance Over Burnout
Ever since my undergraduate days, I’ve been disciplined about treating university like a ‘9 to 5’ job. Maintaining a work/life balance (or, as some argue, work/life integration) was crucial for me. While PhD deadlines were always looming, I never felt the need to sacrifice my weekends, cancel holidays, or miss out on social events.
My guiding motto, and advice always given to friends in any task they are nervous to begin, has always been simply: just start writing. I firmly believe that having something – anything – on paper is better than staring at a blank screen. The words may not be perfect at first nor a Shakespearean sonnet, but the process of writing, editing, and restructuring gets you there in the end. Alongside this, I followed two key principles: break everything into smaller tasks and take regular breaks.
If someone had told me on my first day of university in 2016 that I would one day write an 80,000-word thesis, I would have laughed and insisted I’d be in Australia instead. The latter should have been true – if not for COVID-19. But as much as the pandemic disrupted plans, it provided a silver lining. It led to my ‘panic master’s,’ which then led to my ‘panic PhD.’ Do I regret it? Not at all.
Breaking my thesis into smaller, more manageable chunks (such as sections of 10,000 words) made the task feel less overwhelming. In fact, I was more concerned about exceeding the word limit – I ended up writing far too much and had to rigorously cut it down. This was surprisingly quite a fun task; another piece of advice, never delete your work that doesn’t make the final cut, move it into a separate Word document which I assure you will prove useful when writing up article proofs, and so on.
Taking breaks was also essential. I travelled (maybe a bit too much last year), spent time with friends, and made sure to step away from my research when needed. Of course, time away from the PhD was always followed by feelings of guilt, something I know many of us PhD students feel. Should I be working instead? But in hindsight, these breaks were crucial. I never grew resentful of ‘the beast,’ and I credit that to maintaining a healthy relationship with my work.
Communication & Managing Expectations
One of the biggest challenges I faced was managing expectations – both my own and those of others. At the beginning of my second year, I vividly recall one supervisory meeting where I ambitiously set out my plans for submitting, sitting my Viva, and carrying out corrections all within three years. How wrong I was! I later realised that the three-year window we are all granted is allocated purely for you to submit within this timeframe. Knowing this knowledge brought me back to normalcy and readjusted my bold expectations of becoming a PhD superhero and graduating within three years. Setting clear deadlines and ensuring that my supervisors and support network were aware of my progress was essential. Communication is key, especially with your core team, so they understand your timeline and submission goals.
The Final Stretch & What’s Next
Your mind is your most powerful tool. Throughout this journey, I never doubted my ability to submit ‘the beast’ roughly on time, and I believe that mindset was crucial. Believing in yourself, your skills, and your capabilities makes all the difference. Also important is not being afraid to lean on your sea of supporters in your corner and remember to take breaks. I think that stepping away from a project is woefully underestimated. Sometimes you need to know when to say that enough is enough; trust that coming back with fresh eyes can be a very powerful thing.
As I write this, my viva is just over two weeks away. While the first major hurdle is complete, there’s still one final stage to conquer. The future is uncertain, and yes, that’s a little nerve-wracking. However, I’m choosing to remain positive and excited for the unknown. If my academic journey and the pandemic have taught me anything, there’s always a silver lining in the unexpected.
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