During my time in grad school, I’ve become fascinated by the work people do. I love hearing them talk about it—why they do it, but especially how they do it. Still, I’m scared that work will always feel hard. Everyone seems to define work differently: some treat it as a place where joy goes to die, while others find it fulfilling or even make it their whole identity. As an MFA student, I’ve had to rethink my relationship with work. In design, it’s often described as relentless, like the work is never quite enough. One of my professors recently shared their own experience with this. They talked about pursuing a PhD while, having a husband and family, working toward tenure, and how the toll it took on their body, energy, and overall well-being. How an institution sets irrational standards that you start to take on as your own which creates a consistent loop of fulfillment.
At first, this awareness made me feel deeply ill. Too much, too fast. It made me reflect on my childhood growing up with my mom as a math professor. She has influenced a lot of my own drive to be a professor. Often stopping by her classrooms, seeing her students love on her, and communicating how much they appreciated her, and her doing with grace and ease. Reflecting on life at home somehow became distant compared to her classroom self. At home, our living room was filled with boxes of books, papers, and pens with nowhere to go. My sister and I often helped her prepare for her class, grade, and make PowerPoint presentations. My mom was able to stay up late, wake up early, throw on a cute outfit, and show up for her students in ways I couldn't even fathom at the time. Now reflecting on it, it seems it wasn't easy. It was a heavy toll. She was exhausted, often didn’t eat enough, suffered physical pains, struggled with administration, and missed quality time with herself and others for a decade.
There is something much deeper to this balance of work and life than I expected. Now, stepping into the shoes to do it I feel aware of a hidden truth I have ignored or pushed aside unready to address or face. Or naively thinking “Oh, anyone but me would struggle with this.” The ups and downs feel far more personal than I was prepared to confront. I have dealt with the idea that hard work will never be enough to satiate me throughout my life, but I can't help but feel that the people who have offered me life insight might be making it look easy. It seems to become increasingly prevalent as I reach my late twenties and speak more to my friends, mentors, and peers.
Looking back, I realize I’ve seen these people at their peak—their most polished and confident. They’re working, somewhat steadily, calling meetings, reading, and sharing the cool projects they’re involved in. I’ve been swept up in that image, romanticizing how I could carry myself in the same way, following their lead. But now, it feels like the curtain is being pulled back. I worry I’ve worn these rose-colored glasses for too long, forcing my eyes to adjust to a never-fully real vision.
This is a normal thing and I find my friends and I often talk about possibilities and dream scenarios. Fantasizing our way through life. Finding a way to control the ease, and the peace. It's fun, often I think it can turn a gloomy day into a brighter one by thinking of yourself in a dreamier situation. But there is something that feels so much harsher about this bubble bursting. I feel closer to it, being on the cusp of my PhD. Before being here, I had the opportunity to think about it differently, more naive, and full of possibilities. Now, there is a point of tension in myself. Is this for me? If so, why? Do the same things sound good? Are the people telling me this as a warning and if so should I listen?
This may be why things feel much harsher, inescapable, and less dreamy. When they are mirroring, front-facing, and closer to you than ever before, it feels high pressure. I know it's something I do to myself, holding myself to a high standard and wanting to be the best. Something the world has trained and said to me. It is hard to separate myself from this way of thinking. Acknowledging it for what it is, feels helpful and less daunting.
My brain does a weird thing of feeling grateful to have the shade pulled from my eyes. As harsh as it may be to have this heightened potentially discouraged awakening I trust and know it’s happening for a reason and finding me sporadically at the right time for me to lean into. My mentors and friends have also played a pivotal role in this. I often feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience, knowing I’ve been fortunate to meet people who encourage, inform, and lift me in ways that are hard to express.
Pursuing a PhD has always symbolized the ultimate achievement for me. It felt feasible, sophisticated, and accomplished. But now when I think of my goals, I find myself still interested but anxious about my worry and hesitation. Planning for this for so long has offered me a designed outcome, and provided me a certain level of peace that working and other things never did. This as well as the encouragement around my research and projects is ultimately my driving force of still envisioning this for myself. But now I am allowing myself to think of it with more breadth and realism while working on a balance of not discouraging myself.
But I’d be lying if I said “Dr. Rose” didn’t have a nice ring to it. Despite my fears and questions, there’s still a part of me drawn to the PhD path. I’ve come too far to turn back now, and maybe the challenges I’m facing are surfacing at a time when I’m more prepared to handle them. I trust that pursuing what I’m passionate about will bring fulfillment, even if it feels like a lot of pressure. Yet, I’m also starting to accept that other things might emerge in the next year—things I haven’t planned for but might need. And that’s okay. I’m working on not seeing those shifts as a failure, but rather as an evolution of what I want, and approaching it with less tension than I might have before.
Thanks as always! I hope you are all having a great fall so far. I will see you at the end of the month for an October recap! <3 Recently became a fan of Angie McMahon and this song I think says it perfectly.
xoxo,
Lil Mama <3
Rose this is so spot on. It's like you've been reading some of my thoughts except that you've expressed it so much better than I ever could. This is a really important discussion.