The Weight of Stars

Chapter One: Chasing Stars

She was a curious child—quiet, observant, and always wondering. While other kids played outside, she enjoyed her time with books and science documentaries. Fascinated by the delicate patterns of cells, the complicated cell cycle, and the quiet logic of how biology worked, she found wonder in the smallest corners of the natural world. Science wasn't just a subject in school; it was how she made sense of the world's beauty and chaos. She knew—she didn't just want to learn science, she wanted to live it. She tried to chase questions. She was a girl with stardust in her eyes and a determination stitched into her heart—a girl who would grow up to chase her stars - science.

Chapter Two: The Girl in the Library

Now, all grown up, pursuing a Ph.D. in a foreign country as a third-year PhD student, her bag contained unread papers and a bunch of highlighters. She would sit in the far corner of the campus library, in an isolated pod, away from people.

She always liked her ink-stained fingers. Academia wasn't just her path—it was her pulse. She was pursuing her work on molecular biology, researching how dormant genes in breast tissue are activated and trigger cancer progression. While others dreaded the cold fluorescence of the lab, she found comfort in the hum of incubators and the click of pipettes. Long experimental procedures and those quiet evenings were her jam.  

At 26, she had already co-authored papers and spoken at three international conferences. But success in academia isn't linear.

Chapter Three: Impostor's Echo

Behind the polished presentations and sleepless nights, she carried a quiet fear—that she didn't truly belong. The world of tenured faculty meetings and relentless grant cycles felt like a mountain she wasn't equipped to climb.

She saw herself not as the poised scientist at the podium, but as the girl who couldn't sleep, whose experiments failed more often than they worked, who sometimes cried over reviewer comments that read more like insults than critique.

No one talks about this. The physical and mental strain of research—the numbness in her hand from pipetting 384-well plates for hours, the pressure to perform, the mantra "publish or perish" echoing in her mind like a curse.

These thoughts haunt her in the silence of the lab. And the truth? It's an underpaid job where brilliance is expected, but exhaustion is invisible. In this chaos, she forgot that science is what she loves and what truly matters. 

Her family didn't always understand. "When will you be done?" her mother would ask, hopeful, concerned. Her friends would joke, "Can't you get a real job already?" She would nod and smile, though her heart ached to explain that research wasn't a phase—it was purpose.

But she held her battles quietly, like most academic girls do—fighting for a place in a world that rarely pauses to ask what it costs to stay.

Chapter Four: Becoming

She found both fog and clarity. One day, amidst yet another failed experiment, she realized—it was not the end of the world. It's OK to have bad data. It stings to fail. It burns to fumble during a presentation. It hurts when a paper is rejected. But what matters—what always matters—is your effort.

It's OK not to get that grant. It's OK if you don't land a tenure-track job. You will find a way. Isn't that the essence of a Ph.D.? To find ways forward when you're staring at a dead end.

After that, something shifted. Her research began to flourish. She started seeing the possibility in every setback, the lesson behind each delay.

She met other young women—some with children, some with partners, some alone—all trying to build careers in a world that still, too often, expected them to shrink. Yet all stood their ground, fighting against all odds.

One night, walking back from the lab under a drizzle of stars, she paused, looked up—and for the first time, she felt it deep in her bones. Not impostor syndrome. Not fear. But belonging.

She was not just a girl in academia. She was academia—the questions, the chaos, the courage.

Epilogue: The Next Chapter

Years later after finishing her Ph.D and Post-Doctoral studies,She returned to her home country as a professor. While speaking to her students about her path through research—the failures, the small victories, the persistence—a girl in the front row raised her hand. She said, "I want to pursue a research career." She smiled, because she knew: the weight of stars is heavy—yes—but it is meant to be passed on.