You don't have to follow the scripted path: build your own

Why are you walking the path you're on right now?

Paths. In science, the word "path" often sounds more like a mandate than a choice. There's a predetermined route that, although never truly agreed upon, feels inescapable: undergraduate degree, master's, PhD, postdoc, and finally, leading your own research group. This journey is presented as the ultimate prize after 10 to 12 years of specialization.
But did you know that less than 8% of those who earn a PhD land a permanent position in academia? (Nature, 2020). That means the vast majority never reach that supposed final destination.

At some point, shortcuts began to appear: direct-entry PhD programs, skipping the master's, and moving into industry. But every deviation comes with a stigma. Those who don't follow the "right" path are seen as less prepared, less resilient, less legitimate. The competition becomes even fiercer.
And so, even when the ingredients change slightly, the main dish remains the same: reaching the same place, by barely different roads.
We were made to believe that there was only one way forward. No one taught us to think in alternatives. And now we walk a path we say we want... but quietly doubt all the time.

Those who do manage to walk it often don't finish with the same fire they started with. They arrive exhausted, bruised, disenchanted. That path worked for a long time. But today, it's outdated —not because of what it represents, but because it ignores the real and human needs of those walking it.

Academia is no longer the only horizon. In countries like the U.S., Canada, and parts of Europe, most PhD holders no longer remain in academia: they migrate to industry, science communication, policy, consulting, or entrepreneurship. Science has diversified, but many universities still teach as if that single destination were the only one.

And it's not just about direction. It's about dignity. A well-done master's or PhD is a full-time job —often requiring more than 12 hours a day, including weekends, under precarious conditions, without job security or guaranteed mental health support.
And still, we're often referred to as "just students."

But this post isn't about complaining or trying to overhaul the system (at least not yet).
It's about reminding you that you can question it. That you're allowed to. And that you can build your own way forward.

When you decide what you want to do, don't start with the "what."
Start with the "why." What meaning does it hold for you? What personal purpose sustains that goal?
If there's emotion when you imagine it —go ahead.
But if what you feel is inertia, exhaustion, or a heavy "should" rather than a genuine desire, it might be time to step off the path. And yes, even if it feels like dying, or worse —like failing.
(Trust me, in our field, pausing feels like a sin).
But sometimes, stopping isn't giving up. It's just refusing to keep running in a direction that's no longer yours.

Pain is part of life —you can't avoid it. What matters is choosing the pain worth carrying, the one you can learn from or even find joy in.
Many of us stay on a path that was never really ours, just because we're afraid of the unknown.

But is it really worth following someone else's path just because it worked for them? No one can promise their luck will be yours. And you weren't born to replicate anyone else's story.

There's a Buddhist tale where a young man asks his master which is the best path. The master replies: "The one with no footprints."
Because no one has walked it yet. Because it's yours.
And while we may draw inspiration from others, admire their journey, or even feel we're walking in their footsteps... no story is the same. It never will be.

So why wear yourself out trying to recreate someone else's life?
Redirect that energy —not to imitate, but to create.
So the path you walk is not only yours, but feels like yours.

Fear, sadness, and uncertainty won't vanish.
But you can learn to move through them differently.
And when a pivotal moment comes —like your PhD candidacy exam— it won't be your ego trembling. It will be your conviction speaking.
Because you'll know you chose to be there.

This isn't meant to discourage you. Quite the opposite.
It's an invitation to pause and ask:
Is this path really mine? Are there other ways to get where I want to go?

Because today, there are biologists who opened health-focused restaurants, neuroscientists who design sensory experiences, biochemists who create educational video games, and ecologists who run regenerative ecotourism companies.
They blended their knowledge with their passions.
They stepped off the path.

I know, stepping off is scary.
But what if there's not one path?
What if, by stepping off, you discover a wide meadow of possibilities?
Yes, it'll be uncomfortable.
Yes, you'll pay the price of being a beginner.
But it will be yours.
And nothing is more valuable than that.

And if you're afraid, you don't have to leap all at once. Change is scary —of course it is— but it doesn't have to feel like free fall.
There are smart, compassionate, and sustainable ways to transition.
Small steps that give you safety without dimming your drive.

As Jay Shetty —former monk and best-selling author on purpose and meaning— says,
"Change isn't about becoming someone else overnight. It's about creating new habits that reflect who you really are." And it's essential to stop viewing change in absolutes: it's not success or failure, good or bad.
Change is complex. Expansive. Human.

When you remove the binary, you create space for possibility.
As Shetty puts it:"Change doesn't have to hurt. It just has to make sense."

This is your story.
This is your life.
Don't live someone else's script just because you were told that's where success lies.
Success isn't at the end of someone else's path.
It's in the honesty with which you dare to create your own.

And that, no one can take away from you.