Are You Proud of the Work You Do Every Day?
- 6 days ago
- 5 min read

It sounds like a simple question, but it rarely is.
When I speak to people working across optics, I sometimes think we spend so much time discussing progression, salaries, testing times, targets and the next career move that we overlook a much more fundamental question: are you actually proud of the work you are doing now?
That isn't the same as asking whether you enjoy every day. Nobody does. It isn't about whether every patient leaves delighted, whether the clinic runs perfectly to time or whether somebody thanks you before they leave.
It is more personal than that.
When the final patient has gone, the doors are locked and you think back over the day, does the work still feel like something you are proud to put your name to?
Pride Can Get Lost in a Busy Optical Practice
Anyone who has worked in practice knows how quickly a good day can become a difficult one.
The clinic starts ten minutes behind. Someone calls in sick. A patient arrives late but still needs to be seen. A collection hasn't arrived from the lab. Reception is trying to manage three things at once and, somewhere in the middle of it all, you are still expected to give every patient the attention they deserve.
You can leave knowing you worked incredibly hard and still feel strangely dissatisfied.
I don't think that necessarily means you've fallen out of love with optics. Sometimes it simply means there is an uncomfortable gap between the standard of care you want to provide and the working environment you have been given to provide it in.
That gap matters.
Because when it becomes too wide for too long, people can slowly lose something important: the feeling that they are doing their best work.
What Does Being Proud of Your Work Actually Mean?
Pride doesn't have to mean perfection.
An optometrist might be proud of spotting something subtle and making an appropriate referral. A Dispensing Optician might be proud of finally solving an adaptation problem for a patient who has struggled for months. An Optical Assistant might be proud of calming somebody who arrived anxious about their appointment.
A Practice Manager might simply be proud that, on an exceptionally difficult Saturday, they kept the team together and made sure patients were looked after.
These aren't necessarily dramatic achievements.
Most of them will never appear on a KPI report.
But they are the moments that make optical practices work.
The problem is that we're often much better at measuring what can be counted than recognising what actually matters.
Appointments. Conversion. Revenue. Remakes. Average dispense values. Diary utilisation.
Those figures have their place. Practices need to be commercially sustainable.
But there is a great deal of valuable work happening between those numbers.
When Did We Start Measuring Ourselves Only by What Went Wrong?
Something else happens when people work under pressure for long enough.
They become very good at remembering their mistakes.
You can see twenty patients successfully and spend the journey home thinking about the one conversation you wish you had handled differently.
You can complete dozens of excellent dispenses and remember the remake.
You can manage a practice through an incredibly difficult month and focus entirely on the target you missed.
I see versions of this in recruitment conversations too. Someone with ten or fifteen years of excellent experience starts describing themselves almost entirely through what they haven't achieved yet.
When I ask what they're proud of, there can be a surprisingly long pause.
That pause tells you something.
Perhaps we don't spend enough time recognising the ordinary professional victories that accumulate across a career.
Sometimes the Environment Makes Pride Difficult
There is another side to this conversation, though, and it shouldn't be ignored.
Sometimes dissatisfaction isn't simply a mindset problem.
If an optometrist consistently feels they don't have enough time to practise to the standard they believe is appropriate, telling them to “think more positively” misses the point.
If a Dispensing Optician's professional expertise is continually overlooked, eventually that affects how they feel about their role.
If a Practice Manager carries enormous responsibility but has very little authority to change anything, frustration is understandable.
And if an Optical Assistant keeps taking on more responsibility without development, recognition or progression, eventually enthusiasm can disappear.
There are times when losing pride in your work is useful information.
It may be telling you that something needs to change.
Before You Decide You Need a New Job, Work Out What's Actually Missing
This is where I think people need to be careful.
When work stops feeling rewarding, the immediate conclusion can be: I need to leave.
Sometimes that's absolutely the right answer.
But not always.
Try separating the job itself from the things currently making the job difficult.
Do you still enjoy looking after patients but dislike the pace you're expected to work at? Do you like the practice but feel you've stopped developing? Do you enjoy your colleagues but feel your contribution isn't recognised? Are you tired of optics itself, or simply tired?
Those are very different problems, and they require very different solutions.
One might need an honest conversation with a manager. Another might need additional training or a change in responsibilities. Another might require better boundaries.
And yes, sometimes the answer genuinely is finding another practice.
But it is much easier to make a good career decision when you understand exactly what you're trying to change.
Ask Yourself a Better Question at the End of the Week
Instead of asking whether you had a good week, try asking:
What did I do this week that I'm genuinely proud of?
It might be clinical.
It might be commercial.
It might simply be human.
Perhaps you gave somebody difficult news with compassion. Maybe you stayed patient with a colleague who was struggling. Perhaps you challenged something because you believed it wasn't right for the patient. Maybe you finally had a conversation you'd been avoiding.
Perhaps nobody else even noticed.
That doesn't make it less valuable.
Professional confidence isn't built only through promotions, qualifications and praise from other people. A large part of it comes from knowing privately that the way you work reflects the professional you want to be.
And If You Can't Think of Anything?
That is worth paying attention to as well.
Not because it means you've failed, but because it gives you something useful to explore.
Maybe you've become disconnected from the purpose behind your work. Maybe you're exhausted. Maybe the environment has changed. Maybe you've developed beyond the role you're currently doing.
Or perhaps you've simply become so accustomed to doing good work that you no longer notice it.
Whatever the reason, don't dismiss the feeling.
After years of speaking to people about their careers, I've learned that the questions people find hardest to answer are often the ones worth spending some time with.
So here's one.
Are you proud of the work you're doing right now?
Not the job title. Not the salary. Not what your manager thinks. Not what LinkedIn makes everybody else's career look like.
The actual work.
If the answer is yes, recognise that. There is enormous value in building a career you can quietly feel good about.
If the answer is “sometimes”, ask yourself what happens on the days when you do feel proud.
And if the answer is no, perhaps the next question isn't immediately, “Where should I work instead?”
Perhaps it's:
“What would need to change for me to feel proud of my work again?”
That answer might tell you far more about your next career move than any job advert ever could.





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