I joined The Social Space in March 2025 and stayed for ten months, until January 2026. I had just come out of rehab and needed somewhere to begin again. 

I'd asked ChatGPT to help me look for a job and was directed to The Social Space because of its inclusive hiring approach. I knew it would be a part time role and very different from the training work I was used to. That was exactly why I wanted it. I needed a place where I could rebuild quietly, where I would not be defined by my past, and where I could simply show up and work like everyone else.

I started the job with very little practical life experience. I rarely cooked. I never drank coffee. Household chores were not something I had really taken responsibility for. Part of me wanted to know if I could handle work that was unfamiliar and unglamorous. If this phase of my life was going to be temporary, I wanted to leave it with something that could not be taken away. Discipline. Confidence. Proof that I could do more than what I had always done.

The job itself was straightforward and relentless. Prepping food, preparing meals, making drinks, washing dishes, serving customers, taking orders, cleaning tables, cleaning and closing the café. Getting to work on time was a constant struggle. Multitasking, however, slowly became something I grew into. I learned to move from one station to another, to notice what was running low, to step in before being asked. It felt like learning how to stand on my own feet again, but this time in an apron.

The team was a mix of people from different backgrounds, races and nationalities. Most days were easygoing, except when the café filled up and everything moved a little faster. There were different working styles and different levels of ability, and that meant learning to be patient and flexible with one another. The supervisors each had their own way of leading, but what stayed with me was how closely the branches supported each other. When one outlet was overwhelmed and running low, the other would quietly prep and send over what was needed. No fuss, just people making sure the work carried on.

Some of my fondest memories came from the quieter moments. The nonsense banter with younger staff while prepping food. The shared fatigue during closing. The small gatherings after work, Christmas celebrations, birthdays. Age and cultural differences never felt like barriers. We just met one another as we were. There was a lot of laughter, often over the simplest things. Those moments made the workplace feel human.

Over time, I picked up practical skills I never expected to learn. I can prep and cook with confidence now. I can make a decent cup of coffee and even appreciate it. I also learned how emotionally demanding hospitality can be. Being patient with customers, staying composed during peak periods, and continuing to show warmth even when tired requires more effort than it appears from the outside. 

More importantly, I changed internally. I unlearned passivity. I stopped waiting to be told what to do and started taking initiative. Somewhere along the way, I realised I did not just want to do my job well. I wanted to excel at it. That kind of drive had never been natural to me. Perhaps it came from my circumstances and a quiet awareness that I had lost time and wanted to move forward.

The experience showed me something I needed to know. I can do any job well if I put my mind to it, not just the ones I am familiar with. That reassurance mattered. 

There is a common perception that inclusive employment is simply a cover for cheap labour. My experience did not feel that way. Staff had their grouses, as in any workplace, but it was clear that the bosses cared. And when you know you are cared for, you tend to give more of yourself in return.

Today, I work in a club lounge at a hotel, and I know this step was partly made possible by my stint at The Social Space. The food and beverage experience gave me confidence, but more than that, it gave me courage. Courage to step beyond what I was trained for, to try something different, and to trust that I would find my footing. I learned that skills matter, but attitude carries just as much weight.

If I had to sum up those ten months in one sentence, it would be this. It was a period where I quietly rebuilt my discipline, confidence and self respect through ordinary work done consistently.

For anyone thinking of working there, go in ready to learn and ready to stretch. The work will require patience, consistency, and the willingness to stay calm and kind even on demanding days, but it will also give back in ways that are not always obvious at first.

And I hope people understand one thing about the café. It is not about charity. It is about giving people a real place to work, to contribute, to try, to stumble, to improve and to belong. Sometimes, that is all a person needs to begin again.