Kennedy O.
Photo provided by Kennedy O.
If you’re reading this, it’s okay to be unsure.
Not everyone enters medical school knowing exactly what specialty they want to pursue. Some people discover their passion for pediatrics during their very first rotation, while others have known they wanted to be surgeons since they were children. And then there are those of us who don’t know yet and that’s okay.
Medical school is filled with people who seem to have it all figured out — their Step scores, their research niche, their mentors, their residency goals. It can feel intimidating to be surrounded by so much certainty when you’re still trying to find your place. But uncertainty doesn’t mean you’re lost. It means you’re still exploring, still open to possibilities, still allowing yourself to grow into the kind of physician you’re meant to become.
It’s scary, isn’t it? The thought that you’re choosing what could be your “forever.” A specialty that shapes not just your career, but your lifestyle, your identity, your future. That kind of decision feels heavy. But try to stay positive and curious. Keep your heart and your mind open, because you never know what moment, patient, or experience might shift your perspective. Sometimes, the path you least expected becomes the one that feels most right.
Lean on others. Talk to classmates who’ve rotated through specialties you’re considering. Ask residents and attendings what drew them to their fields, and what keeps them there. Listen to their stories, not to compare, but to understand that everyone’s journey unfolds differently. The answers don’t come all at once, and that’s part of what makes this process human.
If you’re reading this, please give yourself permission to not know. To explore. To change your mind. To take your time. You’re not behind, and you’re not alone. You’re just becoming.
With care,
Kennedy O., Third Year Medical Student
Q: How do you cope with the stressors of medical school?
A: I’ve learned that coping in medical school isn’t about avoiding stress but learning how to move through it without losing yourself in the process. For me, that means creating moments of stillness and structure in an otherwise unpredictable schedule. I make time for small, grounding habits: going to yoga or pilates, cooking dinner instead of ordering takeout, and making time for other things that I enjoy. Those routines remind me that life still exists outside of exams and rotations. Equally important has been leaning on my support system. Talking with classmates, mentors, or even friends outside of medicine helps me keep perspective. Sometimes, it’s not about finding a solution but simply being reminded that I’m not the only one navigating this journey. Medicine can be heavy, but it feels a little lighter when you share the weight.
Q: What advice would you give your younger self regarding coping and mental wellness?
A: I would tell my younger self that you don’t have to be “fine” all the time to be strong. There’s this unspoken pressure in medicine to constantly push forward to study harder, perform better, do more, but true resilience isn’t built from perfection; it’s built from grace. I’d remind myself that it’s okay to rest, to ask for help, and to set boundaries. Taking a break doesn’t mean you’re falling behind but that you’re preserving the part of yourself that makes you capable of caring for others. I’d also tell myself to stay curious, not just about medicine but about life: the people you’ll meet, the stories you’ll hear, the moments that remind you why you started this in the first place. Because at the end of the day, being a good physician starts with remembering how to be human.
Q: Have you ever sought professional help or counseling for mental health support during your time in medical school? If so, how did it impact your overall well-being?
A: Yes, I have and it’s one of the best decisions I’ve made during medical school. Early on, I thought reaching out for help meant I wasn’t strong enough to handle the stress on my own. But in reality, it showed me the opposite: that self-awareness and vulnerability are signs of strength. Talking with a counselor gave me perspective, helped me untangle my thoughts, and reminded me that it’s okay to need support, even when nothing feels “serious enough.”
Several studies have revealed that medical students, physicians, and healthcare professionals experience mental health symptoms at rates significantly higher than the general population. Stethos[Cope] is a chapter of IfYoureReadingThis designed to help medical students and professionals cope with the unique stressors of medical training and change the narrative of mental health in medicine.
To read more letters and interviews from students, and to learn more about mental health in the medical community, visit the Stethos[Cope] home page.