During my PhD, I was relearning how to rest

I have just started the fourth year of my PhD. When I think about where time has gone, I realize that my mental health is not where I want it to be.

I was fortunate to have a supportive advisor and an amazing laboratory environment at Stanford University in California, which included some of the most amazing people I have ever worked with. But even so, there is a broader academic culture seeping into the habits of many researchers, one that rewards exhaustion and discourages rest.

Somewhere along the way, I started wearing burnout like a badge of honor. At my weekly lab checks, I make sure to point out that I was in the lab over the weekend – sending a quiet signal that I was doing my best. I made a point of sending emails early in the morning or late at night to prove that I was working long hours.

I’m exhausted. Doesn’t that mean I’m doing something right?

Nothing changed until my mother visited me in July. She stayed with me for a few days, and even though we spent time together—walking outside and eating dinner—she noticed that I wasn’t really “there” in that moment. She looked pale, I later told my partner. I noticed that my doctoral journey had an impact on me.

This list of non-negotiables helped me overcome PhD student guilt

After I left, I talked to a lab colleague about it. I said I’m trying to find my balance again. My labmate said, “You’re one step ahead. I’m so excited for you.”

I immediately got defensive. “I’m not being lazy,” I said. “I’m not falling behind!” This culture of burnout can be especially difficult for students, myself included, who do not plan to pursue a career in academia. When academic work is stressful, and the goal of your research is to get your all, it leaves little time for other necessities, such as career exploration, hobbies, and socializing—all of which are essential to a career and life outside the lab.

That’s part of the reason I launched the Doctoral Pathways Program a little over a year ago, an extracurricular project for which I interviewed 300 PhDs who had moved on to careers outside academia. I share their transcribed interviews through a Google Sheets database, website, and newsletter. It started as a personal attempt to explore other possible career paths, after I realized that I did not want to remain in academia. Doctoral Pathways has grown into a community of thousands of readers and contributors, challenging the narrative that there is only one “successful” path for doctoral students.

Using these interviews, I share the stories of those who have gone before – to show the diverse career opportunities a PhD can lead to, and to remind others that they are not alone.

I ask each interviewee: “Why did you decide not to pursue a career in academia?” The most common reason was the culture of the academic world. In fact, more than half of the people interviewed said that some elements of academic culture turned them away. They described poor work-life balance, constant pressure to publish, and an undercurrent of stress that never stopped.

Burnout identity

In academia, there is a strange ritual when someone asks: “How are you?” The correct answer is never “great” or “well-rested.” It’s “busy” or “stressed”. The idea is that if you’re not tired, you’re not working hard enough. As a scientist, I have linked my identity to burnout.

Through these conversations, I learned that my experience was not unusual. Over and over again, interviewees told me that they spent years during their PhD feeling burned out, working too long hours, and losing their work-life balance. They were amazed at the flexibility and minimal stress they experienced when they moved out of academia into an industry position.

That’s why I shared these stories outside of my own circle. What started with two viral posts introducing the PhD Paths resource – which together reached over a million LinkedIn impressions – has grown into a personal audience of over 24,000 followers on the social media platform, as well as a PhD Paths newsletter reaching over 7,000 readers.