When the Plan Doesn’t Go to Plan

For most of my life, I’ve thrived on having a plan. Ten years ago, I mapped out my academic journey down to the year: Bachelor’s in four, Master’s in two, PhD in four, then a postdoc, and eventually a tenure-track job. It felt certain, logical, and achievable.

And for a while, it went exactly as I imagined. I graduated from the University of Toronto in 2019, earned my Master of Public Health in 2021, and started my PhD that same year. But somewhere along the way, the path started to shift.

Realizing Academia Might Not Be My Path

As my research progressed, I began asking myself hard questions. Was I here because I loved academia, or because it was the “obvious” next step for someone who had always excelled at school? I’d been praised for being “smart” for as long as I could remember. It became part of my identity—proof of my worth. And if academic success was the ultimate badge of intelligence, what could be more fitting than becoming a professor?

But the deeper I went, the more I realized the cost. Academic jobs are scarce. The life I’d planned might mean years of moving between temporary contracts, uprooting my life repeatedly, all for a career that might never materialize. The honest answer to whether I was willing to make that trade-off was simple: no.

Leaving academia’s familiar path felt scary. Industry was unknown territory, often painted as a “backup plan” for PhDs. Choosing it made me wonder if I was failing. Over time, I began to see that there are many ways to build a meaningful career—none inherently better than another.

The Reality Check

Still, the shift hasn’t been easy. I’m applying for junior-level roles my BA and MPH peers moved past years ago. Over 60 applications have led to only two interviews. Watching peers earn promotions while milestones like buying a home drift further away is tough.

Those feelings deepened when I chose to delay my dissertation defense, taking a lap year to keep my scholarship with no next step lined up. It was practical, but for the first time, I missed a major deadline. Now, peers who started alongside me are defending and moving on. New postdocs who began their PhDs when I did are joining my lab. I can’t help thinking: that should have been me. But it isn’t.

Letting Go of the Map

Had everything gone according to plan, I’d be defending my dissertation this week. Accepting that my carefully plotted path hasn’t materialized has been difficult. But I’m trying to believe that this isn’t failure—it’s a redirection.

Maybe the plan I once clung to so tightly wasn’t the right one after all. And maybe, just maybe, something unexpected and better is waiting on the road I never thought I’d take.