My story, your story?

Hello, is working in academia still awesome?

Academia and I have a long history. But it hasn’t always been a love affair. I am a qualified, experienced nurse and a Certified Feminine Embodiment Coach, and I have a PhD in Nursing Science. Perhaps like you, my life has been deeply committed to my work.

Working in academia has been my dream since my early teenage years. I had a somewhat romantic idea of what that would be like: grand old campuses, discussions with students, and a life dedicated to truth-finding. I spent two decades trying to “make it” in academia. Maybe you, too, have spent years in pursuit of academic excellence?

What I got in return were some sublime experiences. My worldview has changed several times. I acquired a broad skill set ranging from successful publishing and grant applications to presentation skills, mentoring/supervision/teaching to project design and management. I worked with dedicated, clever people and I had some outstanding and supportive managers and supervisors. This was the good stuff.

But I also had to put up with a lot of difficult realities. Work consumed all my energy. Being surrounded by clever, brainy people made me constantly doubt myself and my abilities. I battled imposter syndrome for a long time. Pressure to perform, obtain grants, and publish at an unsustainable pace—and often harsh criticism of written work by peer reviewers—made me cynical and desperate. The industry-like approach to research had little in common with the romantic ideas I had as a teenager. Can you relate to this experience?

My body was revolting and screaming for help: I have been close to burn-out several times.

Does that sound familiar?

My experience is far from unique. Whether you are studying towards a Bachelor’s or Master’s degree, whether you are a PhD student, or further down the academic career pathway, you may have to deal with similar issues.

Working conditions in academia are a huge challenge for anybody, but especially for women (Slišković & Maslić Seršić 2011). e often do not achieve the same levels of career success as our male colleagues. Men still outnumber women in the scientific workforce, particularly in STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) careers, and their publications tend to be cited more frequently (Huang et al. 2020). Women tend to be less competitive and to promote themselves less aggressively.

Academic careers entail uncertainty and so many demands. To succeed in academia requires commitment, the ability to juggle multiple roles, and sustained effort. But hard work and commitment are no guarantee of success. Permanent contracts are rare, and getting your “next gig” is often dependent on publications, successful grant applications, and other merits. Permanent positions often come with heavy teaching loads. Research output—the primary assessment criterion for promotion—often has to be squeezed into weekends and late hours.

And there are always questions like:

• Can I say no to an invitation to work with this research group? What will the consequences be? Will I lose out? Will I miss out on being a co-author on this promising paper?
• How can I write this paper? How do I overcome this writer’s block? Everything is so complex.
• Can I really say no to this invitation to peer-review? After all, I want to publish in this journal myself.

On top of the professional demands in academia, many women often take on the additional responsibility of domestic and caring work for children and ageing parents (Fathima et al 2020, Schiebinger & Gilmartin, 2010). 

No wonder we feel run down, depleted and dream of leaving a career that used to be exciting and enriching.

Many academic institutions have toxic cultures. A lack of support, high demands, and cut-throat mentalities provide a fertile breeding ground for mental health struggles. At the same time, there is often stigma attached to pulling back on workloads or seeking help (Smyth, 2017). We all know colleagues and students who struggle with their mental health and exhaustion and some who even take their lives. We know people who struggle currently in their careers, and we have struggled ourselves. We also know a few brave people who jump ship.

Is there an alternative future for me? Can I flourish and create as a woman in academia? Or outside of academia?

There is an alternative—one that doesn’t require you to override yourself to succeed. In embodiment coaching, we reconnect mind and body so you can process what’s been hard, clarify what matters now, strengthen boundaries, and take grounded next steps.

If you’d like a small taste of this approach, try a 30-second check-in: take one slow breath, notice where you feel tension, and ask, “What do I need right now?”