I graduated medicine 4 years ago. It was beautiful, especially now, looking back and with a sturdy pair of glasses. My dream has always been to see the world. To travel, to explore, to realize how small we are and how much this globe can hide. I honestly believed that medicine would offer me this opportunity. Well… not quite.

Fast forward to 2025, I only see the world in pictures and on that one vacation per year. I send weekly emails to hospitals abroad, I have sent my CV to more places than the Zara newsletter, and still nothing, even though I am willing to learn everything from Italian to Swahili.

This week I had a glorious mental breakdown at work. So, in the middle of burnout and with my last neuron blinking, I applied to an ATPL program. I mean, why not? Airplane pilot. 😂 And although I hoped I won’t, I was accepted!

Since then, I still find myself laughing randomly when I remember what I can do when I snap. Don't get me wrong, I love medicine. But sometimes I feel like it loves me back... kind of like a toxic ex: intense, possessive, with controlling messages at 3 AM. We call it "vocation" but sometimes it looks more like "emotional exploitation with an academic flavor."

I feel guilty that I'm seriously considering quitting. As if I'm betraying not just years of work, but part of my identity. But at the same time, a whispered and increasingly insistent voice asks me: "what if?". We only live once. And I'm starting to think that maybe it's not such a sacrilege to wish for a life in which I don't cry holding Google Maps in my hand on Street View.

Not sure what’s scarier, walking away from everything I’ve built or staying in it just because I’m afraid to change.

What should I do? Any advice would help!