I spent years living a lie.
Everyone told me that if I just finished grad school, landed a tenure-track job, kept my head down and did “all the things,” I’d eventually be happy. And I believed them.
Leslie Wang, a former Sociology professor and host of the popular podcast Your Words Unleashed, believed it through grad school. Lisa Anthony, a computer science PhD, carried it into tenure. So many of us get caught up in the hustle and the story that academia tells us: If we just work harder and find the right academic job, we’ll finally be happy.
The promise we’re sold
From the beginning, academia conditions us to postpone joy: → Pass comps → Defend the dissertation → Land the tenure-track job → Publish the book → Secure tenure.
Each milestone dangles the same promise: do this, and then you’ll feel fulfilled.
Leslie put it best on the podcast:
“I had kind of been delaying this idea of happiness … once I get the right job … everything is going to be … a lot better than it had been.”
But with each achievement, she noticed the same emptiness. The milestones kept shifting, and the happiness never arrived.
When tenure doesn’t fix everything
Lisa Anthony made it all the way to tenure at a research-intensive university. It should have been the arrival point — the “promised land.”
But reaching it didn’t bring the sense of arrival she expected. Tenure gave her security on paper, yet little changed in practice. The pressure, politics, and pace remained, only the expectations shifted. Each promotion introduced new responsibilities she’d never been trained for, and the sense of freedom she imagined never quite materialized. Tenure hadn’t ended the struggle; it had simply reframed it.
The identity crisis nobody talks about
When the external validation falls flat, a deeper question surfaces: Who am I if not this academic?
Leslie described a long, exhausting reckoning:
“Who am I anymore? If I’m not happy in academia, does that mean that I’m not supposed to be an academic anymore?”
Her breaking point was an email about teaching preferences. She couldn’t even open it. Her body said no before her mind could catch up.
For many academics, our identity is tied inextricably to our career. We are “Professor.” We are “Scholar.” We are “PhD.” But these are just jobs, work that pays the bills.
They are roles that we perform for pay.
Yes, the work can be rewarding. Yes, we are (sometimes) changing lives. But what about you and your life? When does that become important? When do you get to adopt an identity that is about more than just work?
Finding paths back to yourself
So if the job won’t make you happy, what can? These stories point toward different ways back to wholeness:
- Coaching: Leslie used coaching to reconnect with her own agency and direction.
- Unexpected pivots: Lisa discovered satisfaction in marketing and logistics—areas she never associated with her academic identity.
- Reclaimed passions: Jeff Malins returned to painting after years of suppressing it: “I just didn’t work on my art for years … the brainwashing … told me that’s not a productive use of leisure time.”
The common thread: happiness grows when work aligns with values, identity, and limits—not when you earn a particular title.
Why this is bigger than you
If you’re feeling drained or directionless, it’s not a personal failing—it’s the system. Burnout in academia isn’t about individual weakness; it’s baked into the structure itself. Even studies that link high performance to lower burnout levels show how fragile that balance is: the pressure never really disappears, it just shifts shape.
Leaving often feels like grieving because identity collapse is part of the process. You let go of who you were trained to be, test out new roles, and slowly reconstruct a self that fits. Once you see that pattern, the guilt starts to loosen. You’re not broken—you’re reacting exactly as anyone would in a system built on endless output.
What you can do now
You can’t change academia overnight, but you can start reclaiming control over your own life. Stop waiting for the next line on your CV to prove your worth, and start asking where you actually thrive—not where your department expects you to go.
Give yourself permission to explore side projects or creative outlets that bring energy instead of exhaustion. Protect your time and boundaries fiercely; your sense of self depends on it. And don’t wait for certainty before you act—Leslie left when she felt only eighty percent ready, and that was enough.
The job won’t make you happy. Tenure won’t make you happy. The next publication won’t make you happy.
They might bring temporary relief, but lasting fulfillment comes from internal alignment, not external reward.
The bottom line
You were trained to delay happiness indefinitely.
What if you stopped?
What if your wellbeing mattered now, not after the next milestone?
That’s not giving up.
That’s growing up.
If you’re tired of postponing your happiness until the next milestone, it’s time to flip the script.
My free workbook Map Your Academic Business will help you see the skills and expertise you already have—and how they can translate into meaningful work now, not “someday.”