Redefining Balance in Medicine: Learning to Exist Beyond the Timeline

When I first entered medical school, I was warned about the intensity. I was told that medicine would consume me, that my life would be dictated by exams, rotations, residency applications, and never-ending studying. What I wasn’t told was how deeply this profession conditions us to accept burnout as a necessity. That somewhere along the way, we internalize the idea that our worth is measured by how much we suffer for this career. That balance is something we will “earn” once we get through the next hurdle…except in medicine, there is always another hurdle.

I’ve noticed an ideology that exists within us, one that says it’s okay to become a shell of the person you once were as long as you’re staying on an “acceptable” timeline. That success is synonymous with sacrificing everything else. And if you’re not miserable, if you’re not constantly exhausted, then maybe you’re not doing enough.

But that’s not sustainable and it never was.

We can and should live happy, healthy, and balanced lives. And we don’t have to wait until some undefined future moment to start. The idea that we will finally “find balance” once we reach the end is a lie meant to keep us moving forward. But there is no real end in this field. There will always be another goal, another exam, another responsibility waiting for us. If we don’t learn how to exist outside of the expectations placed upon us, we will never truly find joy in the day-to-day.

Taking this year off was something that was forced on me, but I’m starting to wonder if it might actually be the best thing for me. Not just in terms of academic success, but in learning how to slow down, reinvest in myself, and redefine what success looks like. Maybe this is a chance to remember that I am more than just a student. I am a whole, dynamic, multifaceted person, and my happiness should not be contingent on whether or not I am hitting arbitrary milestones at a predetermined pace.

Still, I feel the tension within myself: the urge to fully embrace this new mindset, but also the fear that I am somehow doing something wrong. That if I’m not drowning in stress, I must not be working hard enough. It’s hard to unlearn the belief that suffering is the price of success. But when I look back at my gap years, I don’t just remember the hard work. I remember the friendships, the personal growth, the joy. I evolved into someone I was truly proud of, and I think the same thing will happen over this next year.

Balance cannot just be something we stumble upon at the finish line. It is something we have to choose, over and over again, in the midst of everything else. And that choice doesn’t make us weaker or less dedicated, it makes us better doctors, and better people.

Here’s to a year of more photography, ugly watercolor paintings, spontaneous pottery classes, and finally learning how to cook. A year of visiting friends, exploring new places, and rebuilding a foundation strong enough to carry me through whatever comes next. Of reconnecting with passions, not only in medicine, but also in public health and advocacy.

Most of all, here's to finally recognizing that being in this position, with all of my privileges, means allowing myself to live the one life I’ve been given at my own pace, on my own timeline.