- I always wanted to be a scientist and I was thrilled to get my dream job.
- I quickly realized it wasn’t for me, but I also didn’t want to fail.
- After having my son, I quit. I didn’t want him to have a stressed-out mom.
Ever since I was in fourth grade, I wanted to be a scientist. It all started when a fifth-grade teacher did a demonstration during science fair week. He lit his desk on fire and sat on it. I remember the excitement in the crowd, but I also remember that, at that moment, I wanted to be just like him.
Over the years, I immersed myself in everything science-related. Any TV show with state-of-the-art labs, I was watching. If a book series was about clones and had a twist where a scientist stole one to be her daughter, I was all in. I went to graduate school, and then, I was hired at a world-renowned lab.
But my story had its own twist — I was the girl who dreamt of being a scientist, only to realize once I started that I actually hated it. In my eyes, I had failed the little girl with bigger-than-life dreams.
I learned quickly it wasn’t the job for me
After my first year of working in the immunology lab with how specific T-cells interact differently when stressed, COVID-19 took over the world. We were given shifts so that only two or three people would be in the lab at a time. Thankfully, I had a morning shift. I think the pandemic gave me the opportunity to step back during the times I wasn’t there and realize that the job wasn’t everything I had imagined.
I was burned out from being on call 24/7 because I was in charge of a sensitive area of work. During Christmas, Thanksgiving, or even major life events — I was still expected to answer calls, texts, and emails. I realized I was working on something that didn’t bring me joy. I felt like I was stuck on a train going nowhere.
When I was hired, the woman I was replacing told me all these incredible things would happen for me. As a young woman with stars in her eyes, I didn’t realize that everyone’s experience is different, and what she wanted for me wasn’t necessarily what was going to happen. That in itself was a huge learning experience, one I will never forget.
Shortly after the pandemic shutdowns were lifted, my mentors ended up leaving. I immersed myself in my studies and constantly asked if anyone needed help so I could learn more, but it was never enough. I felt like I was never enough, and like I was a failure in my field because I wasn’t growing. A lot of it had to do with me losing my incredibly great mentors. Without them, my career fell stagnant.
It was only after I had my son that I decided to switch gears
When I got pregnant with my son during my fourth year there, I started to realize that I didn’t want him growing up with a mom who was stressed, unfulfilled, and generally unhappy. I wanted him to see someone who stood up for herself, lived the life of her dreams, and had time for him. So, after he was born, I cut my contract with the lab. It broke my heart to walk away. The feeling of failure was so overwhelming that I think it contributed to my postpartum depression.
I felt like I didn’t know who I was without science. That, in itself, was eye-opening — how little I had done outside my career to the point that my job had become my entire identity. But now, looking back, I realize I am so much more than a person in a lab coat. And I think that little girl would be proud.
Through all of this, I’ve learned that dreams change — and that’s OK. I accomplished something that not a lot of biology graduates do: I became a scientist. I gave it my all, but it just wasn’t for me. I will always love science, read the newest journals, discuss discoveries, and see the world through inquisitive eyes. But for now, I’m happy working for a women-owned financial advisory firm — and I love it. My boss is incredible, and best of all, I feel valued, and I have time with my son.
