For many people, the concept of work-life balance only became a serious consideration during the COVID-19 pandemic and its aftermath. But when I look back, my journey with “work-life” actually began long before I entered the workforce.

As a student, I took a job at an American corporate law firm as a “Late Night Secretary.” The title may have sounded amusing, but the work was serious, and exactly what I was looking for at that point in my life. Our office was perched on the 20th floor in the heart of Berlin’s Mitte district, with a direct view of the German parliament. While they were making the decisions, we were executing the moves behind the scenes.

Driven and ambitious, I wanted to be part of something larger, something with purpose and intensity. This firm was the perfect fit. It only accepted the best of the best and remains one of the most prestigious firms to this day. Having previously worked only in retail, I often wondered how I landed there so early in my career, stepping into what felt like a corporate dreamland.

During an internship at the German Parliament (yes, I once aimed for the European Commission and considered becoming a foreign language correspondent), I met my dear friend Margareta. Half Austrian, half Bavarian, born in Panama, she was brilliant, the top law student in her year. But instead of pursuing a traditional legal career, she chose to become a secretary, putting her family first. She introduced me to the law firm, as a close friend of hers was already working there. That connection changed everything.

This was the gold standard of corporate life. Even back then, I knew that working in such an environment would set my expectations sky-high, maybe even ruin me for anything less. The level of professionalism, structure, and organization was second to none. Every job I had afterward felt like working in an amateur league by comparison.

But such excellence came at a cost. Fitting in was essential. We were trained in how to speak, how to dress, and how to navigate the firm’s culture. Our shifts usually ran from 5 to 10 PM, though during court submission deadlines, we often stayed until midnight.

I thrived on the big projects, the headline-making ones. I typed 30-page dictations and often knew what was coming before the news broke. We worked on high-stakes mergers and acquisitions, including the Volkswagen-MAN-Scania saga. MAN attempted to acquire Scania, but Volkswagen and Swedish stakeholders blocked it. It was a corporate chess game, unfolding in real time, until Volkswagen ultimately secured a 30% stake in MAN and a significant part of Scania, aiming to consolidate their truck fleet.

Another major project was the rollout of Germany’s unified Deposit Return System (DPG) in May 2006. Yes, that was us. This initiative, still in effect today, introduced a standardized 25-cent deposit on almost all single-use PET bottles and cans, refundable through automated machines across the country. It impacted every single one of Germany’s 80 million citizens. That’s the kind of work I wanted to be part of, meaningful, far-reaching, and real.

I didn’t want to play small, and I definitely didn’t want to engage in the politicking I’d witnessed in the German Parliament. I wanted to stand alongside the big players and make my mark. It wasn’t even about validation, though perhaps partly about feeding my ego and masking a harder truth: that the sense of power I was chasing came with a steep price.

Because, like everything, this job had another side to it. Sure, these men were earning in an hour what I made in a month, but many only saw their families on weekends. The pressure to perform was immense, and they had to find ways, some healthier than others, to cope with it. They aged differently than my father, who had spent his life doing physical labor. Stress had carved itself into their faces. I saw them more than their own wives did, and I couldn’t see myself becoming one of them.

I believe our early experiences, just like early relationships, help steer us. They teach us not only what we want, but also what we don’t want. I’m incredibly grateful for that time. It allowed me to see behind the curtain before I fully launched my career. I didn’t waste years chasing someone else’s dream.

I got to be part of something impactful. I worked with the elite and realized they were just ordinary people. And I came to understand that corporate life is a massive machine, where each cog must turn perfectly for the system to function.

But I also knew I didn’t want to be a cog.

There was so much more waiting, more to explore, more to build. And I knew I was only at the beginning of that journey: a search not just for balance in my work life, but for true fulfillment.

This all happened before my official career had even begun. In the next part of this series, I’ll take you through my first job after graduation and what came next.