August 10, 2009 - I turned 20. I was most excited about this birthday because having the tens digit change felt like transitioning to adulthood. Officially, I was no longer a teen, and in a while, graduating from college. What will the world beyond me look like? Do I have what it takes? So many choices, so many possibilities…
…Until there was none. Graduation day came and I have nothing. No plans. No roadmap. No answer to the question that has pestered me for several weeks, “what will you do?” What now? We were taught to write CVs in college. We were told to attend conferences and workshops so that we can “bulk up” our CV. We were lectured on concepts and laboratory skills, and there I was, a graduate, knowing the central dogma of life and how to manipulate it but entirely clueless on the first thing to do with a job hunt.
A lot of my peers went to med school, and for the first time, I dearly hoped I succumbed to external pressure of taking the NMAT and applying to med school. At least, I would have an answer to “what will you do now?” I do not have to “think” of what I will do next and feel responsible for ruining the rest of my life. However, that ship has sailed, and for the life of me, it was so clear that I did not want to be a doctor. I wanted to go into research, but how does a career in research look like? Where do you start? Where were the openings, the job fairs, the “research opportunities”?
I was at point A. I knew my point B. I had a clear picture in my head of what I wanted to become, what I wanted to do. I wanted to do worthwhile research, I wanted to have my own lab, but how does one get there from being a fresh graduate? The chasm seemed so wide and the bridge cannot be found. If I were to build a bridge myself, where do I start?
As luck or Providence would have it, an opening was posted for a research position at the Marine Science Institute. I’m not into marine research but it did say “drug discovery” so maybe it can work. Besides, the other option was being unemployed, jobless, with low self-esteem, and nothing to show for, so, there I went. At least, it was something sure, right? I was hired in a jiffy because the previous research assistant was leaving soon for graduate school and I found myself shoved into the unknown. Again.
When a TED speaker said that research was like “farting around in the dark”, I couldn’t agree more. Because there I was, in the dark, both in research and in life, trying to figure out answers to questions that were not clear, devising methods to get to those answers which may or may not work. What must I do, then? I told myself, “Let’s keep moving. Somewhere, there is a tunnel of light, and you are young yet, you will figure things out, and when you’re older, you will have figured them out.”
Hah! What naivety! What idealism! Little did I know I was going to be shoved in the dark for several times more after that - when a project ended and I had to find a new job, when I had to take on a job as an administrative assistant, when I had to do freelance tutoring while waiting for the next thing, when I had to quit a “job abroad,” when I finished graduate school and found no place to take me in, when I went into teaching despite having no background in education, and when I had to have something published otherwise I’m “out.”
They said disappointment hurts, but that time, during the unknowns, the unsures and in-betweens, having hope hurt more. I asked God, “Is this dream really for me? Because it seems like I’m holding on to some fantasy. If it’s not for me, please take it away and kill it, because it pains and stings and burns. But if it is for me, then grant me hope and strength to push on. You do not set people up for failure. You do not put dreams that cannot be fulfilled. I do not know if there is a place for me out there, but if You say so, then I will go.”
Flashback to my 20th birthday, I remember my cousin telling me, “I wonder if you’ll be as excited when that tens digit changes next.” In my newly minted twenty-year-old brain, I said, “Watch me.” I laugh now at my arrogance, because I dreaded my 30th birthday. It was not about the number, it was about what have I to show for in the years before? What have I achieved? What have I accomplished? And yet, I did not die of trepidation or fear or pressure or snarky comments like “sayang-tist” or “teacher lang”. My 30th birthday came and went and I am still here.
Have I figured things out yet? No. Not at all. Not even close. But I have learned to be comfortable in the dark - to grope around, to fart around, and to trust that there is light at the end of the tunnel. I have learned to respect time and honor the process. I had wished that I knew then what I know now, and yet, I also know from the depths of my being that I wouldn’t have known what I know if I did not go through the process. Some things you cannot cheat or accelerate or skip. Growth demands time and patience and self-compassion. I will be turning 32 soon, and I look forward to it - another milestone - of exceeding the calendar. And the dream still burns. The hope still lives.
