A few years ago, I decided to pursue a PhD. Why … isn’t it obvious? Being a psychotherapist who helps health care professionals navigate burnout and imposter syndrome, raising three teenagers, and holding multiple certifications in everything from DBT to MBSR to CCISM wasn’t enough—or so I thought.
In my work, I help physicians, faculty, and other high-achieving professionals process the relentless pressure of their careers. I often explain that their worth isn’t tied to their productivity, that perfection is a myth, and that self-compassion is vital to that word, “resilience.” And yet, like so many of us in health care, I was caught in the same trap.
The PhD felt like the missing piece—the thing that would prove I belonged in a room full of hyper-accomplished people. I thought it would silence the voice in my head whispering, Are you sure you’re good enough?
Spoiler: That voice doesn’t go away when you start a PhD. If anything, it gets louder and louder.
The perfectionism trap in health care
At first, I threw myself into the PhD with the kind of energy that only overachievers and caffeine addicts can sustain. But the cracks appeared quickly. My days were spent guiding physicians through their own feelings of inadequacy and exhaustion, and my nights were spent drowning in dense research papers. I was trying to write about academic theories while my teenagers argued over who finished the last of the cereal.
It didn’t take long for me to realize I wasn’t doing this for me. I was doing it to prove something—to a voice in my head that was never going to be satisfied.
This wasn’t just about the PhD. It was about perfectionism—the relentless belief that I needed to do more to be enough. And if you’ve ever worked in health care, you know how deeply ingrained that mindset is in our culture.
Perfectionism is celebrated in medicine. It drives us to save lives, to push through exhaustion, to constantly strive for better. But it also makes us our own worst critics. We set impossible standards for ourselves, and when we inevitably fall short, we feel like failures.
Imposter syndrome at the top
The irony of my PhD journey wasn’t lost on me. By day, I was teaching others how to challenge imposter syndrome and perfectionism. By night, I was battling my own.
I see this same paradox in so many of the health care professionals I work with. Physicians who’ve saved lives still worry they don’t deserve to be in their roles. Faculty with impressive research records feel like frauds because they didn’t get their first-choice fellowship.
Imposter syndrome doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care how accomplished you are. It sneaks into every corner of your mind, feeding off the culture of meritocracy we live in—especially in medicine.
But here’s what I realized: no degree, no title, no credential can silence that voice. Because the problem isn’t that we’re not enough. The problem is that we don’t believe we are.
Letting go of “more”
Stepping away from the PhD wasn’t easy. It felt like failure at first, like I was admitting defeat. But the more I sat with it, the more I realized it wasn’t about giving up. It was about letting go of the idea that I needed more to be worthy.
The table I thought I was trying to get to? I was already sitting there. I’d been there all along, contributing, leading, and making an impact. The PhD wasn’t going to change that. The only thing it might have done was distract me from what really mattered: being present for my family, my work, and myself.
Letting go of the PhD gave me back my time, my energy, and my sense of self. And more importantly, it taught me the lesson I try to teach others every day: you are already enough.
Lessons for health care professionals
In health care, where perfectionism and burnout are rampant, it’s easy to feel like you’re never doing enough. But here’s what I tell the professionals I work with and what I’ve learned for myself:
- Redefine success: Success isn’t about doing it all or being everything to everyone. It’s about doing what matters most and letting go of the rest.
- Embrace self-compassion: You don’t have to earn your worth. You don’t have to prove you belong. Treat yourself with the same kindness you’d offer a patient or colleague.
- Normalize asking for help: Burnout thrives in isolation. Seek support—whether it’s through an EAP, a trusted mentor, or a peer. You don’t have to do this alone.
The beauty of enough
These days, my life still feels messy. My kids still ask impossible questions like, “Why do you care so much about being on time?” and “Do you even know what TikTok is?” But I’ve stopped chasing perfection. I’ve stopped striving for more. Instead, I’m sitting at the table I already belong to, passing the snacks, laughing at the chaos, and embracing the beautiful imperfection of it all.
And if you’re reading this, feeling like you’re not enough, let me tell you what I wish I’d realized sooner: You don’t have to prove your worth. You are already enough.
Alana Epstein is a psychotherapist.
