What do you picture when you think “neuroscientist”? For a very long time, scientists and specifically researchers in biology have been mainly men. The big discoveries, the Nobel prizes, the inspiring scientists you read about in high school – all men, aren’t they? But at this point in time, the presence of women in science is increasing every year. My first year Biology class in university had  more girls than boys in it. In the last few years, one of the leading figures in genome editing has been a woman, Jennifer Doudna. I don’t know what the working environment will be like yet, but I have hope that it will be welcoming of motivated young women just as my university is.

My experience at the University of Glasgow has been nothing short of great. Apart from really liking the subject, I always felt valued and respected. I moved to the UK to study and, before that happened, my high school experience in Italy was very different compared to my university one. Then, I felt like I couldn’t be as clever as the boys, and would always compare my grades just with the other girls in my class. That obviously hasn’t been the case during my university career, as every student is equal and valued for their skills and their capacity of understanding the subject. Even though most of my professors are men and most of lectures are about research done by men, I never feel like I can’t do something because I am a woman. This is thanks to the many inspiring and confident women, both students and staff, that during my university career have made me feel like I can overcome my insecurities and be like them one day.

Being in university and working is very different, as you can imagine. I have had to look for internships and placements before, and what is most nerve-racking about the whole process is that it has always been men who were my supervisors and did my interviews. I always end up overthinking my appearance and whether I am supposed to wear make-up to look more professional. I overthink whether something has sounded dumb during the interview, whether these men who are interviewing me have some form of stereotype for petite brunette girls who like fashion and female writers. I wonder whether it is okay to have varied interests apart from science and biology, and whether it is okay if I wear a mini skirt to work one day. I’m sure I’m worrying too much on my part, but I don’t think I would worry this much if I was a man. I feel as though I am a confident person, but when it comes to my degree and especially my job, I want to be able to say to a male professor “Yes, I know what I am doing”, and I am definitely not at that point yet.


I am slowly learning to ignore those insecurities and fears, and I am currently doing a one-year master placement in the Psychology department at Durham University. It’s very rewarding and I am so glad I went for it, even though it took countless unanswered emails, rejections and a couple distressing interviews before getting a positive answer. Obviously, I still feel like I might not be excellent at what I do, as I am still a student, but during this placement I have never felt I wasn’t as good because I was a woman. I think that’s some improvement. And I can only hope this will just get better and better in my future career after University, as I definitely want to pursue my big dream of becoming a researcher and discover something new about the human brain.

One of the things that have got me where I am now is always pushing myself out of my comfort zone. When something seems scary to me, I always try to go for it anyway and take the risk. When I have to do something I have never done before, I buckle up and put my best effort into it. If for a small second I think I can’t do it, I try and think about all the scary situations I have been in the past, and how they seemed so big and overwhelming. I overcame them, right? So I can definitely keep trying until I overcome these new scary situations too.

After graduating in 2010 with a First Class degree in Graphic Design, I was soon about to discover that I actually knew next to nothing about graphic design.

Don’t get me wrong, my degree taught me the history and theories of ‘good’ graphic design. It taught me how to face the brutality of critics (imagine ​Miranda Priestly from The Devil Wears Prada – that was my tutor​) and it taught me the basics of the software I would need to use but, without real life design studio experience, I was nowhere near ready to call myself a graphic designer.

With the graduation ceremony over, I found myself sat in the back seat of my parents’ car, being driven back to Lincoln; the place I grew up, the place I absolutely did not envisage myself returning to and I entered a pit of despair.

When I was in my third year, a couple of post-grads visited our year group to talk to us about their experiences of life after university. They told us, enthusiastically, how they had spent their first year in the ‘real world’: working their way (for free) around various London agencies, building their CV and portfolio, and how that was really the only way to do it if we wanted to succeed in our careers.

I wanted to be in London. I thought: “That’s where I will succeed. That’s where I will be rich. That’s where I will live my best life. That’s where I deserve to be.” Alas, the reality was that London design agencies were happy to let First Class graduates in, but only if they were willing to work for a minimum of three months unpaid, with no guarantee of employment on completion.

When I graduated, having partied as much as I had studied, I was thousands of pounds into my student overdraft and my parents were not wealthy enough to support my ambitions of working for multi-million pound London based creative agencies for a year, for free. Reality hurt. I was deflated, anxious about my future, verging on depression and, quite frankly, pissed off at the situation.

I began working for free for a Lincoln-based design agency. Just as with all work placement individuals before me, I was given the small desk in the corner of the studio, briefed on logo designs and promotional materials, and then very much left to my own devices. I soon discovered that I had next to no commercial value whatsoever. Not a single thing I did was approved to go across to the agency’s clients for review. I had creative ideas, but my execution of them was slow and painfully unskilled. For my first two weeks of placement, I was an anxious wreck. I knew I had to improve and I knew I wouldn’t be able to if I continued to sit in the corner of the studio, mentally beating myself up for my inadequacy.

So, on the third week, I somehow plucked up the courage to ask the creative director if instead of pointlessly working alone in the studio corner, I could instead spend a week shadowing the agency's senior designer. It was the most grown-up and professional devision I had ever made for myself. For a week, I say by the senior designer and simply watched how he did the job. I asked questions, I offered my opinions and, when I got home, I wrote up everything that I had learned - and I learned a lot.

What strikes me now is that if I had simply continued to do as I was told and sit quietly in the corner of the studio, I would never have progressed. I knew what I needed, I asked for it, and doing so paid off. I think that, especially with women, there is an underlying fear of asking your superiors if you can do things differently. The lesson I learned here was that you should never sit quietly in the corner, literally or metaphorically! As daunting as it can be, you must take control of your professional development, because no one else will.

After work experience, I got myself a next-to-minimum-wage job as an in-house graphic designer for a property and business company in Lincoln. It was beige walls, plain suits, no music allowed, and so far from the creative studio life I wanted for myself – BUT it taught me many invaluable commercial lessons. I learned how to tone down and present my creative ideas to people that did not understand the value of creative marketing. I learned how to work under the pressure of urgency, I learned corporate professionalism, and I learned how to work with a huge variety of personality types. The job gave my CV enough of a boost for another local design agency to give me the chance of employment. The lesson I learned here is that when you are starting out, there is really “no shame and plenty to gain” from working with companies that don’t necessarily fit the mould of your dream job.


My first junior design role within an agency was the toughest three years of my career. The pressure to be all at once creative, inspiring, efficient, fast, skilled, alert, professional, commercially viable and unique was exhilarating, exhausting and absolutely the most important time for my professional career development. I despised my boss, I thought he was incredibly narcissistic and at times a real bully, yet I was so keen to impress and gain his approval. Looking back now, if he hadn’t put so much pressure on me, I would not be where I am now. The pressure forced me to learn fast. It made me cry a lot, but it also thickened my skin. The first few years of your career can be incredibly difficult and draining, you are often taken advantage of for your cheap labour, but you must use it to your advantage. My advice is to always take the opportunities you are given but know that is does get better. Whenever I have a difficult client now, I have no fear of their judgement, I have a confidence and calm that I believe only comes from not quitting earlier, during much harder times.

After working as a junior designer for three years, I realised that my CV, portfolio, skill level and confidence had grown significantly. It was time to move on. I was offered the position of mid-weight graphic designer at a Nottingham design agency. I took the train each morning at 7am to Nottingham from Lincoln, and then cycled 3 miles to the agency in West Bridgford. Then I did the reverse journey each day, arriving home or at the gym at around 8pm most evenings. I really enjoyed the job – The work I completed at that agency was appreciated and really added to my portfolio, but I left after a year when the commute just became a little too much. That year’s experience was definitely worth it. The lesson I learned here was that if you’re given an opportunity and you get a good feeling about it, take it, even if the practicalities aren’t exactly perfect. If you really want it, you will make it work, and it can only help to build your personal development and resilience.

Soon after, I was offered a Senior Designer position at a design and print agency in Lincoln. It was here that I realised creative projects were there to be found in Lincolnshire. I watched and learned as my employer won large national projects and I began to understand that Lincolnshire’s positioning in the UK (alongside its relatively low living costs) means that the pricing in design pitches for national clients can be very competitive.

I was able to work on some fantastic brand and promotional projects at this agency, and I enjoyed the diversity of work. However, at around six months or so, I began to get itchy feet. I had started freelancing outside of my contracted working hours and I realised that my enthusiasm for this freelance work was becoming significantly higher than for the work I was completing for my employer. There were other benefits, too – Being paid directly by clients was incredibly satisfying, and something I hadn’t been able to experience whilst earning the same salary each month during employment. Although there was the occasional small pay rise and verbal praises for hard work at the company, I had begun to feel as though it wasn’t quite enough. I realised that I could earn a lot more money if I cut out my employer and their overheads, and so I went for it alone. I began to increase the time I spent on freelance projects outside of work. The more I worked as a freelancer at weekends and in the evenings, the more I wanted to do it full time.

At around nine months into this job role, I was approached by the Creative Director of the agency where I had done my first work experience placement at (the one where I sat in the corner for two weeks). He was leaving a freelance design consultant position at an educational company and said he had noticed how my enthusiasm and passion had improved over the years. He said he wanted me to replace him in the role. The directors of the educational company were offering me a freelance design contract for two days a week, for the same money that I was then earning as a full time employee. The catch? The contract was for three months only with no guarantee of continuation. This was my first experience of making a decision based on my attitude to risk.

At the time I was offered this opportunity, I was completely and utterly skint. I had a very old, very cranky laptop that wasn’t exactly great for freelance work, I was renting a tiny flat by myself, I couldn’t drive and I had no one to fall back on should it all go wrong. I weighed up my options. Option A) Be safe. Stay put. Work hard, but earn the same. Keep on looking forward to 1pm Tesco meal deals. Work nine to five in the same four walls with the same faces and same conversations on repeat. Clock watch and daydream about the weekends. Option B) Take the two-day contract and prove yourself. Focus. Build on the small but happy network of freelance clients you’ve made in the past few months. Market yourself. Educate yourself. Take the risk. Don’t concern yourself with a worst case scenario. Have confidence in your ability. Want it. Make it happen.

I took Option B. I handed in my notice, registered as a sole trader, and it was the best career decision I have ever made. In those three months, I worked incredibly hard to provide a gleaming design service to my two-day-a-week contracted client. I informed my freelance clients that I had gone freelance full-time and, in doing so, they began to send me more work.


I set up social media channels and told my friends and family to share them with anyone who might need design services. I registered myself as a freelancer on online CV libraries and directory listing websites. I joined networking groups. I learned to drive. I approached a friend that worked as a freelance website developer and asked him to help me develop my website. In doing so, I realised we had a really good working relationship, and I saw an opportunity for me to begin marketing website design and development services. The website projects began to trickle in.

My clients were happy with my work, I began to collect five-star testimonials from them and, most importantly, they were referring me to their contacts without me even asking. I was focusing all of my energy on making this freelance life succeed for me. At the end of the three months, I knew I could comfortably afford to continue freelancing, even if my two-days-a-week client let me go. The effort I put in paid off. They didn’t let me go. They were incredibly pleased with the work I had completed, and three years later they are still a regular client of mine.

Three months into freelancing, and I was already out of the majority of debt I had got myself into whilst being in full-time employment. I made an appointment with an accountant and began using their services for my end of year accounts, and used them to educate myself in the basics of tax, national insurance and general business finances – something that was completely new to me. The work kept coming in. It was mostly coming from referrals, but the online directory listings and the social media marketing was paying off too.

Everything I was doing as a freelance designer, other than the finances, I had learned how to do in my earlier employment roles. I knew how to market myself, manage my workload, deal with pressure, explain my work, understand different personality types, pitch concepts and create quality, passion-driven work. The difference was, on completion, I was being rewarded for my efforts in cash. Seeing the tangible results of hard work is, for me, what makes working for myself so worthwhile. Without those past jobs, I really do not believe I would have had a clue where to begin and it’s why I would always advise those who want to go into starting their own business, to first learn and grow by working for others.



I spent the first two years of self-employment building a consistent, varied and strong client base. I began to offer my clients not only brand and website design services, but also services in creative copywriting, photography and illustration – which I outsourced to trusted freelance individuals who I had met through networking, both in person and through social media.

In December 2017, the income from my freelance design work was not only supporting my own lifestyle, but began supporting the lifestyle of my go-to website developer as well. It was at this stage that I decided to register as a Limited Company. I was no longer Sophie Karaer Graphic Design, I was now the director of SOKA Studio Ltd. I decided on this minimal, short and recognisable company name, constructed from letters taken from my first and last name, reflective of the sleek, minimal design approach I had become known for.

Since becoming the director of a Limited Company, I have changed my approach and attitude to the running of my business tremendously. In the first two years, I was focused solely on the day-to-day running of my business, keeping my clients happy and producing portfolio-worthy work. I’m still doing that now of course, but I wasn’t thinking about the long term plans. Going Limited allowed me to separate myself from my business and view it as an entity in its own right. In the past year, I have really focused my energy on improving my skill set as a business woman. I have enrolled myself on multiple business development courses, and approached and met with some incredibly inspiring business owners who have provided me with invaluable, and experienced, advice. I have made connections and relationships with lawyers, accountants and financial advisors, and soaked up as much knowledge as I possibly can from each of these encounters.

As my understanding of running a business has grown, I have been able to increase the quantity of my work even further. I’ve taken on my first employee, and increased business turnover beyond what I would ever thought could be possible three years ago. I now have an ambitious five year plan for my company’s growth, and I intend to approach it with the same urgency and enthusiasm that I put in during those first initial risky three months.

I truly believe that if you are passionate about your business, if you constantly build on your skills and services you provide, if you stay hard working and remain gracious for the opportunities you receive, and if you have the confidence to take a risk, then there is no reason why you can’t succeed. I’d like to think I am a prime example of someone who took a big risk, and now works hard enough to make sure it continues to pay off.