We take on the identity of “Doctor” long before we get the degree of Doctor of Medicine. For me, it started when I was 11 years old and decided I was going to be a doctor. I had many reasons for this decision: I couldn’t think of anything more useful than being a doctor; even at 11; I enjoyed being of service; I figured I’d always have a job—something not everyone around me had at that time. Honestly, I also thought no one would call me “stupid” if I was a doctor. So there!

In college, I took a lot of science classes, but I read every book on the syllabus in my roommate’s English-major classes. I loved reading and writing but I was focused on medicine as my career.

It’s a long path to becoming a physician, but the identity of doctor was hard-wired into me (and my colleagues) long before I joined a practice and started seeing my own patients.

I have always felt that being a doctor was a calling. One that fit my personality and abilities well. I was not a big fan of all the paperwork (especially after the EMR arrived in my professional life) but I loved the work I did with my patients. I even became a life coach so I could help my patients implement the positive changes I recommended—those they agreed with but had a hard time implementing.  I still miss my patients and I haven’t practiced medicine in 12 years.

I only left because my calling to be a mother was just as strong as my calling to be a doctor. I didn’t feel I could do both well in our current medical culture. Partly because my husband was also a physician and two medical careers do not allow for a lot of quality time with the child. Partly because I’d tried for 9 years to have a child and when I finally did, I didn’t want to spend days away from my child with no energy left for him when I finally got home.

My medical days were long and all-consuming. I felt I was between a rock and a hard place. Either my patients would suffer or my child. So I left.

I went from being a part-time physician and part-time life coach to being a full-time mother and a part-time life coach. But I had my head turned over my shoulder, looking back at my medical career, for years.

I was good at my work and I never considered it just work. Yes, I sacrificed a lot to be a doctor but I received a lot in return. I felt useful and productive, my patients respected me and I respected them. We were allies together in the pursuit of good health, the lessening of suffering, and the search for answers that would improve their lives.

And, outside of the exam room, there were other perks. When people found out I was a doctor, they made a lot of assumptions about me, usually to my benefit: I worked hard, I was smart, I was good in an emergency, etc.

Leaving medicine meant leaving all those assumptions behind. When I told people I was a life coach, they made very different assumptions, not always to my benefit. And, being a mother? Even my husband (occasionally) assumed I sat around the house watching daytime TV.

I’m summarizing a long transition here, but it’s very difficult to go from a profession where everyone knows (or thinks they know) what you do and gives you props for doing it to a profession that very few people know anything about. And everyone thinks they know what a mother does and there’s no training required at all.

I miss seeing patients and I miss being a physician. It took me a long time to stop looking back over my shoulder at my career and life as a family doctor.

And…I wouldn’t change a thing. I feel just as passionate about helping my son thrive as I did about each one of my patients. I get to be present with my son and with my coaching clients in a way I never could with my patients, and the joy of that is something I wouldn’t trade for anything.

This is who I am now. A wife, a mother, and a life coach.

It’s all good. 

But how do you do it? That’s the next blog post. You can find it here. 

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If medicine doesn’t bring you the joy it used to, let’s talk. Book a call with me using my online schedule.