“And I love how you came along and made the world for me secure. . . It’s deeper than you know– You made me believe I’d found a love for my soul.” – From Kindred and the Family Soul’s “Just the Way You Are”
The path to becoming a doctor often feels intensely self-focused. It begins with declaring a pre-med major, followed by relentless studying to achieve top grades. You naturally gravitate towards equally driven peers, forming a cohort united by the shared mantra: study harder, study smarter, study constantly.
The goal? An A in Biology 101. An A in Organic Chemistry. Setting the curve in Physics 102. The pressure is immense, and the focus is laser-sharp on academic excellence.
Then comes the MCAT, looming like a formidable gatekeeper. To gain entry into your desired medical school, to avoid having to explain away less-than-perfect scores despite academic honors, you dive into massive prep books and programs. Your life becomes consumed by studying, pushing everything else to the periphery.
Snoopy joyfully performing his signature dance.
And then, the acceptance letter arrives. You are in medical school.
Celebration erupts. Parents, study partners, high school teachers, everyone connected to your support system rejoices. And you? You might just find yourself doing a mental Snoopy dance, that iconic expression of pure, unadulterated joy. You envision yourself in a crisp white coat, confidently making diagnoses like a real-life Dr. House, minus the questionable habits. You imagine leading rounds, your insights shaping patient care. You picture the countless lives you will impact, the patients who will feel truly heard and cared for by you, the doctor who makes a difference.
Medical school begins, and a new reality sets in. You are surrounded by an even more intensely driven group of individuals, surpassing even your undergraduate peers. The stakes are higher now. Massive student loan debt looms, making failure an unthinkable prospect.
So, the cycle of intense studying resumes. Weekends after exams offer brief respites, but the pressure to achieve, achieve, achieve, is ever-present. This relentless pursuit is driven by the desire to secure the best residency, to avoid making excuses during interviews for perceived shortcomings in your academic record.
A student deeply engrossed in studying textbooks and notes.
You inevitably miss out on things, even important ones. The relentless focus on achievement can make these sacrifices seem acceptable, even necessary. You might fret about it occasionally, sometimes more than occasionally.
Then, if fortune favors you, you match with your desired residency program. Another wave of celebration. The urge to pirouette, to break into a Snoopy dance, might be overwhelming, and you might even give in to the impulse. Graduation day arrives, and you see the immense pride in your parents’ eyes, a pride that stems not only from your becoming a doctor but also from the security of your future employment.
You begin your internship. And the cycle starts anew. New colleagues, new challenges, new hurdles to overcome. The question of fellowship arises, demanding even greater dedication and achievement in every rotation, especially those within your chosen specialty.
And so it goes.
Eventually, the whirlwind subsides, training concludes, and a new chapter begins. Suddenly, there is more time, a bit more financial freedom. Emerging from the intense self-focus of training, you realize that there were other people in your life, some connected to medicine, others not. But on a scale of attentiveness, you were likely operating at a solid five out of ten at best.
If you were fortunate, someone grounded you early in this journey, a partner who offered comfort and called you “hon” instead of “doctor, doctor, doctor.” Or perhaps, despite early grounding, fate didn’t deliver that special someone from the library stacks or your favorite study spot at Starbucks.
Worries surface. What truly matters? The realization dawns: life is about more than just personal and professional milestones.
Oh yeah.
Today is my husband Harry’s birthday. It’s a time to reflect on what truly constitutes achievement. Whether you’re a doctor, a nurse, or any kind of high-achiever, meaningful relationships are paramount. And finding that one extraordinary person, a soulmate, is hitting the jackpot.
Yes.
For a period during and after residency, I wrestled with this. All the hard work, the relentless studying to reach the “promised land” of doctorhood. But as the dust settled, I looked around and realized that beyond my wonderful family, it was just me, myself, and I. Oh, and my professionally framed medical degree.
I longed for a deep, soulful love. But it hadn’t materialized.
Damn.
The most frustrating part was realizing that this was not an achievement to be earned through hard work and study. There was no textbook for finding a love for my soul. For someone accustomed to academic striving, this was a difficult truth to accept.
After a series of uninspiring dates and dead-end encounters, I made a simple decision: I would no longer waste time on anyone who didn’t recognize my inherent worth. I refused to be with “Mr. It’s-not-you-it’s-really-me” when the love of my life might be just around the corner. I also committed to finding contentment in my own company in the meantime.
It was worth a shot.
Two weeks later, I met Harry. And in an instant, I discovered a new motivation, a purpose beyond personal ambition. After all the studying, striving, worrying, praying, waiting, and achieving, I had found the ultimate prize. The love I had hoped and prayed for, a love for my soul.
It might sound cliché, but some clichés are beautifully true. Love has that effect. Especially a love that resonates with your soul.
Now that’s a reason to do the Snoopy dance.
The author with her husband and children, representing the love she found.
So this one’s for you, Harry.
Thank you for being a love for my soul and the best and most important achievement I never studied to attain. ~ K.M.
___ Now playing on my mental iPod. . . .
