TL;DR: The process of pivoting your career can sneak up on you, and before you know it, you are living and breathing the pivot. The cool thing is that women seem more adept at the pivot!
There I was, legs folded beneath me on the floor, my daughter's small voice recounting her tale of failed 'espectations'—a new term she used at me for changing her bedding from unicorns to rainbows. As she spoke with the seriousness only a four-year-old can muster, I started reflecting on the 'how' of my recent dramatic career pivot.
The 'how' has always been my compass, guiding me from a young girl with a vision of a stethoscope around my neck to actualizing that dream through the rigorous demands of medical school paid for by multiple jobs, overnight shifts and determination.
But how did I navigate from a lucrative private practice to a novice in the world of social media and Substack writing, with an ambition to revolutionize women’s digestive and rectal care? How does one gracefully pivot not only their career but their entire life? And is this path of change, this dance of reinvention, a choreography shared by all?
Joanne Lipman sheds light on this universal 'how' in her recent book "Next!," exploring the shared stages of silent searching, grappling with uncertainty, and the inevitable 'STOP' that preludes transformation. Women, it seems, are adept at this pivot dance, often out of necessity, crafting entrepreneurial steps from the uneven ground laid by unequal mentorship, pay, and inflexible work conditions that strain the balance of family life.
Stop, pause and pivot
The pivotal moment when I said 'STOP' rose above the gender biases and discrimination that women in medicine often face, significantly impacting their career trajectories following childbirth. It wasn't the voice messages from male partners about financial responsibilities, nor the mansplaining of policies not designed for maternity. It wasn't the refusal to accommodate my needs as a new mother or to consider the complexities of my female patients' cases.
No, the 'STOP' for me was a personal one. The realization was that the relentless, inflexible schedule imposed by a profit-driven partnership was a disservice to my family.
It was the day my son lay in a hospital bed with pneumonia. This happened during the work day, full of screening colonoscopies to perform. I was expected to complete a marathon of colonoscopies before I could rush to the hospital—while enduring the stark absence of concern from my so-called partners, enduring one more phone call on the way to the hospital trying to explain why disability policy doesn’t mean maternity policy - wait, weren’t you calling to ask about my son?
So, the pivot came—not with the fanfare of defiance, but with the quiet determination to prioritize my family's well-being. It's a path many women in medicine find themselves on, seeking to restore balance in their lives.
Here I stand, mid-pivot, not merely switching careers but shifting perspectives. It's a call for solidarity, for championing support among women in medicine and those we serve. We're not just cleaning up the healthcare space but reinventing it. Because if not us, then who?
Have you experienced your 'STOP'? What prompted you to muster your inner 4-year-old indignation? What was the moment that prompted you to pivot? How were your ‘espectations’ profoundly unmet? I'd love to hear your stories.
Just one more thing, a heartfelt nod to Dr. Jennifer Lycette, whose words echoed my own experience and inspired this reflection: "It is literally impossible to be a woman in medicine." She's right—and it's time we talk about being a female patient in this healthcare space too (stay tuned for more on that).
End dictation,
Your Lady MD,
Emily