A few years back I applied to a PhD program in Counselor Education & Supervision with the same school where I earned my counseling degree. I was trying to set my self up for success. My partner at the time assured me I would be successful regardless, but I felt that I needed to keeping moving up in order to have the career I wanted. I was also trying to make meaning of life and the world, after the unexpected passing of my father. So yea, I applied. I received the email letting me know that I was not chosen for an interview, while I was at work. I read it in a small bathroom next to the cafeteria in a girls detention program. I cried a little, but reminded myself of what happened just a few months prior, on the heels of my grief I was still trying to move forward. That’s something.

The following year when applications were open again, it was somewhat of a personal challenge to be invited. Freshly out of a my long term partnership, still drowning in dead dad sadness and the disappointment of feeling compelled to resign from my job, I applied again. In mid-December, in the cracker aisle at Target, I learned that I was being offered an interview for a potential spot in the 2023 cohort. I jumped up and down, feeling validated and proud. I was obviously going to the interview. I felt inspired and passionate about having a hand in educating and developing others entering my profession. I was so proud. The interviews are held in Colorado, over the course of 2 days. As the interview date got closer, I remember feeling the weight of my depression, the culmination of the sadness and disappointment, leaving me without motivation to go. I ruminated for days, weeks even …. I thought about the cost of the trip, the trip itself, what I was hoping to get out of it, how I really felt about more school. I decided that I was just happy too have been invited, so I withdrew my candidacy.

Months go by, medication and therapy had leveled me out and I looked back on the year at all the decisions I had (or hadn’t) made. Was I just happy to have been invited? Did I mean to do that? Or was that my brain? I didn’t know what decisions depressed me made, that well me might not have, and the other way around. So, I had to see.

I revisited a relationship that ended, I reapplied and interviewed for a job I hadn’t moved forward with, I reapplied to the PhD program.

Despite the opinions of some friends and a colleague or two, I am glad I did. I was offered and accepted the job within the week. The relationship, I cautiously let envelop me and it’s been better than the first time. And the PhD …. one afternoon, while at my new job, I get the email saying the decision on my application is complete. I click the link, I go to the website, I log in …. Invited to interview. Wow, third time is a charm I say. I send the screenshot to my text crew, tell my closest friends and my boyfriend, post it on social media, feel validated and obviously plan to go to the interview.

Until I planned not to go.

The excitement of the invite lasted maybe through the weekend.

I thought about what the degree would afford me professionally, personally and financially. It felt like a good idea, but then what? I go to this program and spend the next few years working hard to have a new title, or more letters after my name and then I’ll be done? Do I need this? Define need …. but realistically, no. The majority of what it would ‘give’ me, I could get in other ways on the path I am already on. Where does it end?

I have worked so hard for the last few years, shouldn’t I take the time to enjoy that? To experience things outside of career expansion and school and student loan debt? I don’t want to miss work, or vacations or day trips … not so someone calls me ‘Doctor’ … I have never cared about titles, I care about the work I do, the contributions I can make. Sad me was wrong about a lot of things, and made some decisions that I can’t take back or change … but sad me was right about one thing; I was just happy to have been invited.