It’s that time of the year when I am, once again, feeling sentimental. Last week marked the end of my 3rd Edinburgh Festival Fringe, a festival that is now a permanent August ritual for me. This week, I’m attending a conference on milestones and markers, meeting lots of new faces and re-connecting with several that I have missed. Next week will mark 4 years since I moved to the UK and 1 year since I began my PhD.

With the next academic year imminent, I’m taking the time to reflect back on the past 12 months. It flew by so fast that I do wonder, Have I even changed at all? And so, this week, I’m taking the time to write a letter to my first year self– someone who, in my opinion, let herself be guided by novelty, not value. Someone who put quantity on a pedestal, often at total (unknowing) expense to quality. Someone who cared in theory, but was unable to feel it fully. Someone who worried much, but about all the wrong things.

This is Part 1 of a 2 part series in which I invite a group of researchers – from 2nd Year PhD students to Early Career Fellows – to share what they wish they had known when they began their PhD.

To kick things off, here is mine:

To My First Year Self,

Right now, I bet you are filled with loads of doubts: How am I going to build a whole new life, in a city I barely know? How am I going to live in a town as small as Edinburgh? Will I make any friends? Is it all going to work out with my supervision team? Will it be everything I expected? Will it all work out in the end?

You are already thinking about when it’s all over… I know you. You are thinking about what comes next– no, you are already worried about what comes next. I’m not going to tell you not to worry. Definitely do worry. But I’m here to say you’re worried about the wrong thing.

Worry about what is right in front of you: the next paper you are set to write, or the presentation you are about to give, or the meeting you’re about to begin. Worry about what’s on your schedule tomorrow instead of agonizing over the busy week ahead. Worry about making this time worthwhile because you know – and I know – that you will never get this time back.

You are right where you need to be– even if you have been a ‘theatre kid’ your whole life, and yet, share an office with engineers and technologists. So make yourself known, but don’t try too hard to make yourself ‘fit in’ to a space that you know isn’t right for you. I know this sounds contradictory, but you will understand what I mean when you are in the middle of it.

And this brings me to the most important part of all: Recognise the power of ‘no’. As shiny and prestigious as certain conferences, journals, or side projects may appear, trust what your gut is telling you. If it’s saying ‘no’, then it is definitely a ‘no’. There will be many opportunities that come your way; there is no shortage of them (and, I might add, there never will be). So you may find yourself needing to get ‘picky’. Learn to live intentionally. You might think you are already doing that, but you are sorely mistaken. Keep discovering what it is you truly value, and let that be your guide.

That way, this time next year, when someone asks you, What’s your dream after all of this?, you’ll be able to answer with equal confidence and focus, fully grounded in that which is most present and most pressing. And it will all keep making just a little more sense.

All My Love,

Emma