Closing One Chapter, Opening Another: Embracing the Journey as a Scientist
- Nella Delva
- Mar 4
- 3 min read
Updated: Jun 2

As I sit down to write this, a wave of surrealism washes over me. The moment I've been working toward for over six long years is finally here. Graduate school—a chapter so extensive and consuming that it felt like it might never end—has officially come to a close. And yet, as I stand on the threshold of becoming a fully-fledged scientist, I can’t help but ask myself: does the training and learning ever truly end? For years, I convinced myself that this phase was infinite, a loop of experiments, late-night data analyses, grant writing, and endless revisions. But here I am, holding the keys to the next stage of my scientific journey, feeling both an exhilarating rush of excitement and the gentle hum of apprehension. Finishing graduate school isn’t just about closing a chapter; it’s about transitioning into a world where the stakes are higher, the questions are bigger, and the opportunities to make a true difference are boundless.
Yet, this moment comes with a new set of questions. How do we, as scientists, measure the impact of our work? How do we know when our discoveries ripple beyond our lab benches and into the world, leaving a lasting, global imprint? The weight of this responsibility is both daunting and electrifying. Science has always been about pushing boundaries and expanding knowledge, but there’s an inherent vulnerability in striving for impact in a world that often values immediate results over long-term contributions.
Reflecting on my time in graduate school, I realize the depth of transformation that’s occurred—not just academically, but personally and emotionally. I walked into this journey with a lot of questions, not just about neuroscience but about myself. Six years later, I’m walking out with answers I never expected. My confidence has blossomed, my sense of self-worth is stronger than ever, and emotionally, I’ve found a peace that I once thought was elusive. My curiosity—my lifelong companion—has been awakened and nourished in ways I never thought possible. Graduate school was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, both academically and personally. There were moments of doubt, of frustration, of depression, of wondering if I was cut out for this path. There were failed experiments, long nights of self-doubt, and countless times I questioned my own abilities. But those moments were balanced by breakthroughs, by moments of pure discovery, and by the realization that I am capable of so much more than I ever imagined.
Through this journey, I learned that growth is often found in the discomfort of failure, in the grit it takes to keep going when everything feels uncertain. I discovered that resilience isn’t just about pushing through challenges, but also about embracing vulnerability, asking for help, and finding strength in community. I am forever grateful for the mentors who guided me, the colleagues who became friends, and the moments of quiet reflection that reminded me why I chose this path.
This transition isn’t just a professional milestone; it’s a deeply personal one. It’s proof that I can grow, evolve, and continue peeling back the layers of who I am. The beauty of science is that it mirrors life in its constant state of flux, of questioning, of seeking answers only to uncover more questions. It has taught me that there’s no final destination—just a continuous journey of learning, discovery, and self-improvement. As I step into this new chapter, I’m filled with gratitude, curiosity, and an unshakable excitement for what’s ahead. There’s still so much to learn—about science, about the world, and about myself. And maybe that’s the heart of being a scientist: embracing the role of a lifelong learner, driven not just by the need to understand but by the pure joy of discovery.
Here’s to the next chapter. To more questions, more discoveries, and more growth. And to the beautiful, unpredictable journey of being a scientist. Because in the end, it’s not just about the answers we find, but the paths we take to get there—and the people we become along the way.
Comments