To New Beginnings.

Or living out old dreams.

Allow me to introduce myself.

I’m Dr. A. Black woman. OBGYN. Immigrant. Wanderer. I’m writing this post before I have a chance to talk myself out of it. Before all my fears about my writing and my career and my doctoring can shut me up. Almost a year ago to the day I came back from medical leave and quit a job in what seemed to be a promising academic career. It just wasn’t working anymore. I had a couple of cool titles, dedicated time for my various roles (the holy grail!), a nice apartment, a decent paycheck. My star was on the rise. From the outside look in, it all seemed great.

But I wasn’t happy. I had not been happy for years. I stayed because my mentors said I was burned out and needed clinical respite. I stayed because my attempts to get that respite had led to grants for research projects I needed to finish. I stayed because I was the face of an ambitious initiative that in retrospect, did not have the institution’s support. I stayed because I didn’t know who I was without the job. I stayed because there were people counting on me. I stayed because I didn’t have somethine else lined up and good immigrant first daughters don’t do irresponsible things like be voluntarily unemployed.

While spring cleaning the other day, I found a post-it note that I wrote to myself in therapy. It’s not dated, but I remember grabbing a pen and scribbling across the yellow paper about a year ago:

“I owe it to myself to see if there is [something] better out there.”

Getting there was long and hard, but I finally reached the point where I believed that statement enough to let go. With a little cash in the bank and. a metric ton of anxiety, but without a plan.

A year later, I still don’t know what’s next. I’ve spent a lot of time with myself. I’ve learned that I probably won’t get rid of the anxiety, but I can get it to take the occasional break. I’ve tried things I never had the time or the guts to do before. I’m redefining what it means to be happy and successful. I’m so proud of myself in so many ways. There’s one goal I set for the year that I’ve been putting off. And it’s this project right here. I’ve put it off because I’m telling myself all the usual things that stop us from writing":

“Nobody wants to read that.”

“You don’t have anything important or special to say.”

“People don’t read anymore. You need video content or a podcast and a huge social media following to have impact.”

“Someone does want this information, just not from you.”

“Who do you think you are?”

Maybe it’s because it’s the anniversary or my decision to walk away. Maybe it’s because it’s summer. Maybe I’ve just done everything else on my list and I don’t have a good reason to put this off, but I’m getting started.

So allow me to reintroduce myself:

I’m Dr. A. Black woman. OBGYN. Immigrant. Wanderer. I write about respectful sexual/gyn/repro (SRG) health. I share medical guidelines and recommendations so you don’t have to wonder if your provider is hiding anything. I write about letting go and walking away and starting fresh . . . and yes sometimes that means curling up on your living room with your dog wondering what the hell you were thinking.

It’s nice to meet you.