Starting a PhD is often portrayed as a journey filled with curiosity, discovery, and academic growth. But for some, it can also be an isolating experience, especially when the path you’re on doesn’t align perfectly with those around you. My work in migrant health, a field that straddles Health Services
and Policy Research and Global Health, has set me apart. Unlike many of my peers, I haven’t found faculty with the same niche interests, leaving me without the immediate academic guidance and. community others may take for granted.
Adding to this is the reality of living with chronic illnesses. My condition leaves me constantly managing fatigue, pain, and a demanding schedule of medical appointments. Every week includes at least two physical therapy sessions, monthly injections to manage pain, and regular doctor’s appointments. Balancing these with classes, research, and my health feels like a delicate dance—one that many of my peers can’t see or fully understand. I am constantly managing the invisible workload of my health on top of my academic responsibilities, and it often feels like no one around me truly comprehends this part of my life. The combination of these factors made my first semester, and even now, incredibly challenging. Amid these feelings of isolation, I noticed an email one day about the Emerging Women Leaders (EWL) program. The program description spoke of mentorship and connection with other women in the doctoral program, and I was excited at the prospect of finding a community where I could belong. I hoped that through EWL, I might find people who understood what it was like to feel set apart—either academically or personally—and that, maybe, I wouldn’t feel so alone.
At the time I applied, I barely knew anyone outside my immediate cohort. Within EWL, I was placed in a mentor group and quickly connected with a fellow PhD student who had faced a similar sense of disconnection. She, too, was interested in work that didn’t align perfectly with any established faculty focus, and we shared the feeling of subtle discouragement from pursuing our chosen paths. Talking with her brought an incredible sense of relief. It’s a powerful thing to hear someone say, “I know exactly how that feels.” Beyond my group, EWL introduced me to DrPH students, offering insights from women at different stages of their doctoral journeys who were also grappling with isolation. The diversity of perspectives helped me realize that these struggles weren’t mine alone—and more importantly, they weren’t insurmountable.
I had initially hoped EWL might connect me with a mentor who had experience with chronic illness or disability, but my assigned mentor was not someone with these personal experiences. Nevertheless, she provided invaluable guidance on navigating my career path, advising me on strategies and decisions that could shape my future in ways I hadn’t considered. I gained so much from her support, but I still felt a pull toward finding someone who understood what it meant to live and work with chronic health conditions.
That opportunity came unexpectedly at a conference I attended. I was inspired by the story of a woman leader who openly shared her experiences with chronic illness, and despite feeling nervous, I drew on the confidence and skills I’d gained through EWL to approach her. I explained how I also managed chronic illnesses and was looking for someone who could offer mentorship from that unique perspective. She responded warmly, and that single conversation marked a significant shift in my journey. With her, I now had a mentor who could support me as a leader while managing a disability. Her insights and experience provided a perspective I hadn’t found elsewhere, showing me that it’s possible to navigate both career and health challenges with resilience and grace. It felt like the missing piece I had been searching for—a source of guidance that spoke to the whole of my experience, not just my professional goals.
Today, there are still moments when I feel alone or out of place in my program. But I know I have a network within EWL, a group of women who have become an essential part of my support system. Whether it’s a quick message to check in or a deeper conversation about the challenges of the PhD journey, I now have people I can reach out to who understand the complex realities of this path. This experience has taught me that community can be found in unexpected places, and while I may never fit neatly into a single academic category, I can find belonging through connections that extend beyond labels and titles.
Through EWL, I have gained not only valuable mentorship but also the courage to pursue connections that feel authentic to my experience. I may still walk a unique path, but now I do so with a group of supportive women by my side—a reminder that even in the toughest moments, I’m never truly alone.
