There are moments in life when you question if you made the right choice. When I first entered pharmacy, I remember the feeling of uncertainty. I’d chosen a career in my twenties, a time when you’re still figuring out who you are and where you want to go. Pharmacy seemed like the safe bet—a career with a good income, respectability, and no blood or guts involved. But did I really know what I was getting myself into?

When I was in high school, I was smart enough to get into advanced classes, but my decision-making skills were not exactly stellar. I always had that nagging feeling that someone else was just a bit quicker, smarter. Still, I pushed forward. My parents valued academic excellence and saw potential in me, so I worked hard to get good grades, especially in math and science. That’s when pharmacy entered the picture.

I remember taking a career test in high school and being surprised when it told me I’d be good at being a principal. The second result was a pharmacist, a profession I hadn’t even considered. But, of course, I latched onto the idea. Pharmacists made six figures, worked in healthcare, and didn’t have to deal with the messiness of doctors. Plus, I had two uncles who were pharmacists, so I thought it was a sign. It felt like a solid, safe choice.

But the reality hit me fast. I decided to shadow a community pharmacist, and the job seemed manageable—counting pills, talking to patients. It all seemed too easy, and I thought, “Six figures for this? Sign me up!” But what I didn’t realize was that the job I observed didn’t reflect the full scope of pharmacy. As I got deeper into pre-pharmacy courses, panic set in. I struggled and doubted myself. I wasn’t sure if I’d make the cut. But I pushed through. I studied hard, formed study groups, and did everything I could to survive.

Pharmacy school felt like a roller coaster. I hated heights, but that was how it felt every day—like I was about to crash. I found myself questioning my decision more and more. I worked as a technician in retail and hospital settings, but the work seemed boring, stressful, and unfulfilling. Everyone around me was talking about the residency route, and I thought that maybe that was the answer to my unhappiness. If I could be a clinician, I thought, maybe I’d finally feel engaged.

When I graduated and became a pharmacist, reality hit even harder. The skills required in pharmacy—critical thinking, meticulous problem-solving, attention to detail—weren’t really my strengths. I’ve always been a big-picture person, someone who goes with my gut and prefers a “good enough” approach to perfection. The work didn’t feel meaningful. It wasn’t what I’d expected, and it definitely didn’t fit my strengths or passions. I was forcing a square peg into a round hole.

The more I worked, the more I realized that pharmacy didn’t align with who I was. I’m a creative person, someone who loves to experiment and innovate. But pharmacy doesn’t exactly nurture those traits. There’s no room for failure when it comes to medicine—it’s a life-or-death situation. I wanted to make a difference, but I didn’t know how within the traditional confines of pharmacy.

I hit a breaking point. I was burned out, miserable, and feeling trapped. I had responsibilities—young kids, a mortgage, and a loan repayment plan with my employer. I was doing the job I’d trained for, but it wasn’t fulfilling. So I began to search for alternatives. I dove into entrepreneurship, starting side hustles—selling baby strollers on Amazon, launching an Etsy store, even getting into cryptocurrency and franchises. The funny thing was, the thing that ended up making me the most money was medical writing, something I never fully embraced at the time.

Despite the success, I resisted diving deeper into writing because I didn’t want to be just another pharmacist doing something outside the field. But the truth is, I’m a pharmacist through and through. That’s who I am. And ultimately, the thing I was most successful at was the thing I’d been running away from.

Through all this, I eventually found my true path—entrepreneurship and coaching. It wasn’t about escaping pharmacy but finding a way to serve the profession in a way that felt meaningful to me. In 2016, I started helping pharmacists transition into careers that brought them more satisfaction. That’s when I found my purpose.

Pharmacy doesn’t have to be the end of the line for your career. If you’re feeling stuck, if you’re questioning your path, it’s time to realize that who you are matters far more than what the job looks like on paper. It’s not about finding a career that impresses others or fits some traditional mold. It’s about finding something that aligns with your strengths, passions, and values.

The pharmacy profession is diverse. There are so many different career paths available, and it’s okay to explore what could be a better fit for you. If you’re feeling burned out, it’s not the end—it’s an opportunity to reframe your situation and look outside yourself. I did it, and you can too. It’s okay to change direction, to start over. Your career is more than just a paycheck or a title. It should fuel you, give you energy, and make you excited to wake up every day.

It’s time to stop letting burnout define your life. It’s time to start living a career that aligns with who you are. And if you’re unsure how to start, I’m here to help. If you’re ready to make a change, there’s no better time than now.