By May of 2023, I was sure I had my life figured out.
I had just completed my Master’s Degree, and was heading to an end-of-study work experience at a Big 4. I remember during one of my first meetings with my Senior Associate, he asked what I wanted to focus on, and I told him with absolute certainty that I wanted to do Business Intelligence from the engineering side. We were the perfect pair because that was precisely his area of focus, and I got a lot of excellent mentorship from him.
Outside of the rigors of everyday life, leaving the house at 7am and coming back at 7pm, occasionally crying in the bathroom on really tough days, everything appeared to be falling into place. Then it wasn’t. I can’t place the particular point where things took a swing, but it began to creep in slowly; dissatisfaction with my work, then my environment, then myself. My performance reviews came back good but not great, then I became scared of going to work everyday. I knew that something was going to click off, and I just pushed through the days and waited for it to happen.
It’s June 2025, and on most days, I find myself unable to get out of bed in the morning. I have no desire to pursue this thing that once meant everything to me, or anything at all. I am not so sure anymore whether I want to do Business Intelligence from the engineering side or the advisory side, or if I want to work in analytics at all. It’s like I watch everything pass me by while I try to hold myself in thrall.
Given my background, going for an MSc in Data Science felt like the logical next step to a more established career in analytics. I had studied Statistics at BSc level, acquired some early work experience doing industry research and analytics. I saw the pathway, I held it in my hands but somehow, it disappeared from my mind.
I am someone who has always navigated uncertainty and really difficult personal situations. So, I trusted that even if things did not go precisely as I planned, I’d navigate and still stay on track. But this time feels different. I wonder if I feel cut loose because I am in a foreign land, or it is simply because I am not as well-equipped as I thought. I have become intense, sensitive, and vigilant. Sometimes I catch my shoulders in a lift and my breath, heavy with anticipation, as if I am waiting for something to break.
I’m in a place where I’m unsure if I like what I’m doing or if it’s the right thing for me to be working on, but it’s also the only thing I’ve done throughout my life. I ask myself if it is just exhaustion or a signal to pivot.
In spring, I had the opportunity to teach at the American Business School in Paris, and one of the students told me I was one of the most knowledgeable professors he had interacted with. It felt really good to be complimented in that way, but I also felt like I was wearing a mask, like I am good at performing enthusiasm. I’ve always attached the meaning of my life to the work I do, it has been the only way I know how to interact with myself. It’s why I feel distraught.
I was lucky to be asked to teach in the Fall when a new school session begins. It’s summer, and ideally a time to rest and plan but for me, it’s a time of apprehension and questioning: Do I want to go back? What do I do now? How do I get up tomorrow and not feel like I am spending another day drifting?
I still haven’t been able to answer these questions. But I’ve found this devastation strangely soothing; I have nothing to lose. I consider myself to have lost everything that once shaped me. As I try to make sense of the different pieces shifting around me, I rejoice in the freedom to be nothing, so I can become.
Today, I am not an impressive young woman who is beating a list of odds.
Today, I took a walk by the river, placed my feet in it and allowed the coldness to pierce through my sense of reality.
I’m alive! God, I’m alive.