I thought success was a destination. Then I became a doctor.

When I began the journey to becoming a doctor, I believed success was a destination — a finish line I’d reach if I just worked hard enough, studied long enough and sacrificed deeply enough. 

And I did all those things. 

I pushed through sleepless nights in college. Carried the weight of relentless pressure in medical school. Survived the grind of residency, where time lost all meaning. I lived with my eyes fixed on the horizon — chasing the next exam, the next rotation, the next milestone. 

But somewhere along the way, I missed something important: I was so focused on who I was becoming that I forgot to appreciate who I already was.

If I could go back and speak to that version of me, I’d say this:

Know your worth. Own your value. Stand tall in your growth.

Set your expectations based on your experience — not someone else’s standards. On your progress — not someone else’s pace.

Success isn’t luck. It’s not given. It’s built. Brick by brick — through hard work, smart choices, deep relationships and a kind of grit that refuses to quit.

And you don’t truly learn that from winning. You learn it from failing, adapting and rising again.

There came a moment when I stopped chasing the version of success I thought I should want and started chasing the life I was actually meant for.

I stopped apologizing for my ambition. I trusted my instincts — because they had carried me further than fear ever could. And that’s when everything changed.

The truth is, becoming a doctor is a path admired by many but truly walked by few. It demands more than intelligence. It asks for your empathy, your resilience, your humility.

And if you’re not careful, it can take so much of you that you forget to live the life you were building it for.

Here’s what I know now:

Life is short. Cherish the people who stand beside you — not just behind you.

It’s not about how many are in your corner — it’s about who shows up when it matters.

Earn respect. But let only those who’ve earned yours into your heart.

Don’t let one bad moment — or one unkind person — shake your vision.

And remember: The finish line always moves. That’s the point.

Success isn’t a destination. It’s a journey. It’s hard. Accept that. But define what fulfillment means to you—not to your mentors, your parents, or society.

And if your path leads you to medicine, be the kind of doctor who sees the person before the diagnosis. Who listens deeply. Who shows up fully. Who remembers what it felt like to sit on the other side of the stethoscope.

Be humble.

Stay curious.

Never forget to be human.

Because that’s the kind of physician who earns lifelong respect—and the kind of person who leaves a legacy that matters.

This article originally appeared at KevinMD.com.