No one knows what you can accomplish, except you!

I was 2 months into my first semester of graduate school.

The transition had been rough, socially and emotionally. I went from a close-knit on-campus community, one I had been a part of for 4 years, to an urban environment with only 6 members from my class. I was struggling to find my footing.

I was lonely and distracted.

On top of that, the course load at the start of my graduate school was intense; fundamentals of pharmacology (Fun Pharm, we called it), genetics, molecular biology, neurobiology, and biochemistry. I had taken similar classes as an undergraduate, but was limited to 2 courses at a time. Peppered with English literature and psychology, I learnt different ways of using my brain. In grad school, all my classes went in the same direction, and it was rough.

I tried my best to concentrate and study; to put my feelings of isolation and imbalance in a box; to absorb all the information; to show myself that I was worthy of this Ivy League graduate school.

I took my first Fun Pharm exam and I bombed it.

I got a 62 and a “meet me after class.”

I think I have only failed one test before in my life; early in college, and most likely for similar reasons. It was a real wake up call. I ended up with a B+ in the class.

I felt mortified; and worse, I could not fathom why the professor needed to see me after class. What more could he say? I already knew how awful the grade was. I beat myself up enough, and assured myself that I would make it up in future tests.

A few days later, I found myself in the professor’s cluttered office; sitting in an open chair, amidst scattered papers and journals. There was a thin row of windows lining the top of one of the walls of his basement office. A massive computer screen occupied most of his desk.

He looked at me through thick, smudged glasses, and for 20 minutes, told me that I should consider another path in life. He was seriously concerned about how badly I bombed the test. And that the classes would only get harder. He said he wanted to help me, but that the school had its standards and I had not met them.

I spent that afternoon bawling.

And then I was furious.

He didn’t ask me anything about myself.

He didn’t ask how I did in my undergrad. He didn’t ask how I was faring in my other classes. He didn’t ask me if something was going on that could have led to that one grade. He had never graded any other work of mine until that point.

He took one data point and extrapolated it to form an opinion about my entire life. Not a good scientist, at the very least.

And definitely wrong about me.

If you see the three letters after my last name, you would know that I went on to pass Fun Pharm and all my other classes. I spent several years in graduate school. They were not fun, but I did it. I defended my thesis and got my PhD!

He was right about one thing, though. I needed to go down another path in life. One that involved the Wall Street and C-Suites. Consulting and writing. Love and laughter. Marriage and children. Tough times and great times.

My life has had nothing to do with one bad grade in one test.

Your path in life has nothing to do with one person who does not understand who you are or know what you can do.

I have had many doubts about myself in life. But I never doubted that I was not smart or capable enough to do what I want to do. The question for me was about figuring out what it is that I wanted, instead of giving in to what others wanted of me.

You know your own strengths. You know what you are capable of. Don’t listen to the idiots. They see one data point about you, about your life, and decide what you can or should or will do.

They are wrong! Your heart is always right.

Dr. Deb Knobelman (@debknobelman) is a PhD and a neuroscientist by training. This story was published on October 3, 2018, on Dr. Knobelman’s blog (available here), and has been republished with her permission.