to walk or not to walk...

to walk or not to walk...
Photo by Sandy Millar / Unsplash

first written June 2, 2024

Yesterday I had the opportunity to formalize my doctoral degree by participating in the hooding ceremony. I am glad I did.

I wasn’t going to. You see, I defended my dissertation almost one year ago, and I felt kinda silly walking after so much time had gone by. At least that was what I said to myself and others. Deep down, I was insecure and doubted the rigor and prestige of my degree. Why? In my mixed-up mind I thought that it wasn’t really that hard… I mean, I enjoyed every step of the research process, classes, and residencies. It was fun! I never felt that sense of “ugh, I don’t want to do this or I am so overwhelmed.” Every moment was good for me. And because of that, I doubted my smartness. I really did.

I came to realize, though, that every moment was good because I was immersed in a subject I was passionate about and personally connected to. My doctoral journey was a long walk of reflection, discovery, and humility. I found my "whys" for my chosen profession... I found myself again.

I am a humble person (sometimes to a fault). I don’t like attention on me. But, my husband insisted I walk. Then, my 82 year-old mom insisted too. How could I say no to her? After all, I am the first in my family to earn a doctoral degree. And so I walked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I walk down the stairwell, my lips quiver. My eyes fill with water and as a tear drop runs down my cheek I soon realize why I had been so hesitant to walk. I I had been holding onto my grief. Grief. Deep. Sweltering within me all this time. Less than one year into this program, my step-dad died unexpectedly. I carried on without skipping a beat. All the while I found it difficult to cry. I couldn't cry. And now, as I bend down for the doctoral hooding, I know deep in my heart that it is done. It is time. Let go. Cry. And walk.