The path to finding a career is like the path to finding someone you love. It involves acceptance, and rejection; hope, and loss. It requires perseverance and knowing when to let things go. Strange career passions appear in your early or mid teens. You fall for the clichéd options; you want to be a footballer, a dancer, a pop star. Around the same time, you might fall for that girl or boy in school with all the friends or the hair that falls in exactly the right way.

As you move on, your tastes start to refine. You realise that actually you really do hate chemistry, or that history just isn’t for you. You fall into a group of friends based on what you have in common, and you form an identity. Around the same time, you may lose your virginity, and realise that it’s really not all that it’s cracked up to be. Once again, your priorities change and you get that there is more to love than flirty texts and glances down the corridor. You understand that being with someone is just as much about what you want from them as what they want from you.

You are accepted into university and fall in love with a whole new group of friends. The things you were taught in school are swept away by a torrent of exciting new ideas. Similarly, you start to fancy people from places far from where you grew up, or from backgrounds very different to yours. Your view of what you like – what your tastes are, what makes you happy – changes again.

“It sounds old-fashioned and naïve to question whether a job is worthwhile or moral anymore.”

And then, abruptly, it comes to choosing a career. Like choosing a partner, choosing a job is a colossal test of self-knowledge. It is a moment when you called upon to have a profound understanding of where your skills lie, what makes you happy, and what lifestyle you want to lead in 40 years’ time. The cold truth is most people don’t have a true understanding of who they are, and that’s why most people end up in jobs they hate.

Paradoxically, job-choosing is hugely personal and yet hugely impersonal at the same time; only you can make this decision, and know what is right for you. However, this has to be balanced with the impersonal practical considerations of salary, location and experience. A similar paradox exists in how we choose our lovers.

Like in love, choosing a career can be a matter of instinct, and this shouldn’t be ignored. Many factors cloud our judgement; one look at the CamCareers internships page will make anyone who doesn’t want do banking or marketing balk. On my last check, there were 149 opportunities for “Accounting and Finance”, and 245 for “IT”. There were 39 for “Media” and 17 for “Publishing”. Is everyone going into IT? No, and even if they were, that wouldn’t matter. This is where imaginative and varied work experience and internships are vital for exploring what is and isn’t for you. See it as the job equivalent to experimenting sexually.

Creative careers are available only to the rich

I think there is a dismal failure of imagination on the part of our generation. We’re still living in the careers equivalent of the pre-Sexual Revolution; people think they sign up for a job and that’s them sorted, forever. It is unsurprising because millions of pounds are spent by banks and consultancy firms to convince us of their definitions of success. Don’t be fooled. It is not just direct job advertisement they spend money on. You should understand that this goes a lot further than that; banks will fund dinners, societies, events, lectures, student ambassadors. They do everything they can to love-bomb us. Crucially, never undersell yourself. You are worth a lot, and you have the world at your feet. Consider your options wisely.

If you happen to choose a corporate career, know that you may have the opportunity to lead a happy and fulfilled life. Such  careers can be hugely creative, rewarding, and intellectually stimulating. But let’s be clear: if you are doing it “until I pay off my debts” then very soon afterwards you will be using the same excuse til “I pay off my mortgage”. It will become, “I just want to make enough not to worry any more”. When you have kids it will be “I’m doing it for my family”. In your cynical 40s and 50s you will echo your parents; “What, that? Just a student fantasy.” It sounds old-fashioned and naïve to question whether a job is worthwhile or moral anymore. Take a moment to consider how much the taxpayer has invested in your life. Your hospital, your school, your safety. Ask what you can do to repay that profound debt to society.

I sometimes think competitive Times Top 100 grad schemes are like those achingly beautiful people in high school that everyone wants. Soon you may realise that there’s no substance to them, or maybe when you finally meet face-to-face you just don’t click. It isn’t surprising that we pursue our job search like we do our search for romance. We even use the same language; the ‘dream job’ is like ‘the One’; job sites often have all the judgmental awkwardness of a Tinder encounter; we flaunt our internships right above our relationship status on Facebook. Would you marry someone you weren’t absolutely sure about? No. It sounds obvious, but isn’t. Don’t do a corporate job if it isn’t right for you; have the unfashionable qualities of faith, imagination and the individual resolve to be yourself