An Honest Journey Continued: Reflections on the Next Stage

Five years ago, I upended my life, and my family's, by embarking on a new adventure.

As a Black kid growing up just outside the nation's capital, I was barely conscious of how incredibly blessed I was. I had two parents, a small but comfortable home, we always had food on the table, at least one car in the driveway, and I went to private (Christian and church-run) schools. By most measures, I had a wholesome, privileged upbringing, particularly in a nation that has systematically made it difficult for Black families to attain such a feat.

I was also pretty bright. College education was a given for me. It was my goal in life to get a higher degree, inspired by several brilliant Black scholars, scientists, and teachers I was surrounded by in the Black megachurch in which I grew up. I was good at science, so I figured I might as well get a PhD in genetics. Except that in my sophomore year of college, after working in a biochemistry lab, I realized how boring bench work was for me. (Not to knock those who are absolutely giddy about lab work...more power to you. It just wasn't my thing.) So then I thought, "Med school!" That was pretty much the only other option available to biochemistry-majoring-higher-degree-pursuing folks. After about a semester on that track, I remembered why I didn't lead with that step in the first place: I hate blood! Way too squeamish for that. So when pharmacy school fell on my lap, I thought it was perfect. It was a higher degree that married science and helping people, but not at the expense of making me puke. So I did that. And it wasn't too long before I realized that it too failed to maintain my interest. Thousands of dollars into pharmacy school debt, and 7 years into a successful clinical psychopharmacologist career, I changed course, deciding--for the first time in my life--to pursue something because I felt passionate about it, not because doors conveniently opened for me and I just walked through them by default.

I have zero regrets about moving to Massachusetts, starting a social justice-oriented program at UMass Boston, and immersing myself in the field of psychology, with an emphasis on LGBTQ sectionality. My husband may feel differently about it, and my child may at some point too...the therapy bills will tell the tale. For me though, it has been extremely tough, but so fulfilling.

But here I am, 5/6 of an internship and 10 months away from getting my PhD. Since my clinical practice these past 4 years has been in college counseling, it's only seemed natural to me to continue in that vein. Psychotherapy is one of the things I'm really passionate about, and it's what inspired me to change careers in the first place. Moreover, college undergrad/grad students are so wonderful to work with: They're young enough to have real problems, but not old enough to be jaded about them. It's fascinating and rewarding work.

And yet, there's been a creeping question in the back of my mind these past 4 years--a question that as of 6 hours ago came rushing forth: Is college counseling really what I want to be doing...or am I just walking through convenient doors open in front of me again?

I honestly don't know the answer to that. In many ways, I think I could be really happy with the 9-5 predictable work of college counseling. But in other ways, I wonder if it won't start feeling like psychiatric pharmacy did at some point... like boring symptom management (in large part due to the changes in college counseling that have occurred in the past decade where much of the job is geared toward routine anxiety/depression complaints, rather than the deep soul work that I find most meaningful and engaging about psychotherapy).

I want to be open to the novel opportunities that this degree could provide me. And when I really take stock of what I love the most about therapy, it's working with LGBTQ people who have identity conflict (be that with their religion, with their race/ethnicity, etc.) There's a reason after all that this is what I chose to study and make the subject of my dissertation. It's what drives me. So why would I choose a career that doesn't let me do a whole lot of that (a little, for sure, but not a lot)?

I can't help but feel like I may be destined for something more than college counseling. Not necessarily something "greater," but perhaps something more fulfilling, more... "me."But when I think about what that might be, I come up well short of an answer. Should I be in academia studying this? Should I start a private practice specifically for LGBTQ people, with an eye toward identity conflict? Should I pursue a more political end? Should I seek out a think tank of some sort? Non-profit work?

None of the flashes of ideas seems quite right. I get no sense that I'm "meant" to pursue any of them. Which leaves me feeling just a bit bewildered.

If I were to take a leap into the unknown, rather than the comfort of the sure path of college counseling, I don't feel as if I have a good idea about what the unmet needs are in the LGBTQ community, nor how I might go about responding to them in a way that felt very "me."

So I've decided not to own all of this. I'm throwing it back at you all... friends, family, acquaintances, total strangers. What systemic work needs to be accomplished within the LGBTQ community? If you had a chance to do any of that work, what would it be? All answers are welcomed and encouraged, recognizing of course that it's quite possible none of them will be right for me. But I'm surveying the field nonetheless.

Go!