What Successful Doctors Do When They Stop Feeling Successful

Doctors know how to succeed. That’s almost the easy part. But what happens when success, as it’s been traditionally defined, doesn’t work for you? What happens when you achieve the title, but know you should let it go? Or, when your vision as a leader doesn’t look like what’s been established? At the 2025 Women in Medicine Summit in Chicago, physicians shared personal stories of what it looks like to define their own career paths and measure success by their ruler alone. Sometimes that required stepping back or simply getting clear on their individual values and putting them into action. Medscape asked three doctors to share how they define professional achievement, what led them to question the “ladder” of success, and how they approach their roles differently today. Adaira Landry, MD, MEd, Assistant Professor, Harvard Medical School When I was in medical school, I felt like everyone had this plan for success and I didn’t. When opportunities came to me, I thought, I should probably do them, because no one else is offering me anything right now. I had gone to a few conference seminars around that time, and the narrative was to say yes [to everything] because you never knew what that opportunity might lead to and you want to show you’re a “good citizen.” It was like you owed it to people — almost like paying your taxes — to put time and energy into these things, even if they didn’t align with you, weren’t compensated, or didn’t give you the chance to reach the next level. I got to the point where I was overly committed and overwhelmed. I didn’t know how to move forward with so many deadlines and meetings. I reached that point about 4 years into my career when I had three academic titles and two children. I remember saying yes to a webinar that was taking place at 6 or 7 in the evening. I knew it would be stressful because it was the kids’ dinner and bedtime, and I was still breastfeeding. This webinar was on work–life balance, if you can believe that. It was a disaster. My kids were running in and out of the room — I had to barricade them out of it. That’s when I made the boundary: No meetings from 6 to 9 PM. I moved from “say yes to everything” to “tell me more,” so I can decide if this will be good for me. I think we have to teach people how to be thoughtful about what they say yes to. There’s this toxicity of FOMO (fear of missing out). The positivity associated with JOMO (joy of missing out) is something we don’t emphasize enough. Example: I was in a role for 4 years, and I objectively loved my team, boss, and the people I was supporting. But I did not see how I was going to grow in the role in my fifth year. That’s how I knew it was time to step down. But how do you do that when it’s comfortable? It was scary. I didn’t want anyone to feel offended. And while I couldn’t control how anyone else responds to the narrative, I could control how I built and delivered it. I stepped down, wrote a book, became a keynote speaker, and co-founded a nonprofit. I needed wide blue ocean in front of me to see what was possible. Gwendolyn Williams, MD, Internal Medicine, VCU Health, Richmond, VA For too long, I was measuring my own success based on what others’ view of success is. I saw people chasing titles and recognition. There’s this false narrative that we place on ourselves, especially as women, that success is a linear path. When I was in school in training and post-undergrad, I was met with constant reminders from leaders and colleagues of what I wasn’t. You don’t fit the mold. I asked, “Why do I need to fit that?” I was given the message that to be a leader, I needed to abandon my humility and my femininity. I didn’t want to conform to the idea of what a leader was based on an archetype. Often, this archetype springs from traditional male leadership. Historically, that has been dominance rooted in control and hierarchy. That doesn’t sustain longevity. It doesn’t build trust and loyalty. As women, when we try to fit into that model, and our values don’t align with that, the end result can leave us feeling empty and hollow. Creating our own version of success allows us to show up and lead from a place of clarity and authenticity. And know that success can look different throughout your career. When I became an attending, I achieved what I wanted. Then I thought, what do I do now? I had to remind myself that my life is not about getting to the top of the mountain. That’s why I think about the path to success as a platform, rather than a ladder. Climbing a ladder assumes that the steps have been built for you, and it’s secure and stable. It reinforces conformity; everyone follows the same steps. But you also can’t come together on the ladder because the rung will get overloaded and fall. With a platform, you have space for others’ vision, values, and voice. You can shape the impact you want to have and provide a place for others to do the same. There’s also safety in numbers — something about it makes other people want to join you. I’ve always pictured that for myself and the way I want to show up as a leader. Monica Lypson, MD, MHPE, Vice Dean, Columbia University Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons There’s a common misnomer about medicine. People think that you open an office, put a shingle on your door, and see patients. But there is a whole other level of things you can do. I don’t think I realized that until I was well into undergrad for medical school. As a product of public school teachers, I vaguely remember telling my parents that I wanted to become a teacher. They pretty clearly said no. I turned around and said, I want to teach. Something had clicked for me in this purpose. I was constantly complaining about my own education. I knew that there could be a better way, which informed how I later specialized and defined my career. During my training, I spent time talking to colleagues and mentors who taught residents. In medicine, we think you have one mentor, and that’s how you’re successful. I think you need a “board of directors” or a panel of mentors. I like to have a group of people who I can bounce ideas off, both for my personal life and career. They need to be honest, especially when you don’t want to hear what they have to say, and you need to feel safe around them asking those questions. I came away from our conversations with the realization that I could have an impact sitting across from patients one-on-one, or impact thousands of patients by teaching students and residents. What better way to think about the practice of medicine and how I can have an impact then by thinking about how we currently do something and how we can do it better? I thought that there had to be a better way to learn than sitting in lecture. If medicine is a practical, apprentice-based discipline, we should be doing that even in the early stages of our education and training. I’ve always considered myself the squeaky wheel. Luckily, I’ve been in programs that listened to me and said, “Fine, then fix it.” I took that and ran. I got an education degree, which is not something typical in medicine. I had watched colleagues earn their MPH, MBA, or MPP. Why not get an education degree if that’s where I wanted my expertise to be? Landry, Williams, Lypson: Forge Your Own Path For all three physicians, creating their own path wasn’t easy. There were hurdles to overcome while learning more about themselves and roadblocks in the process of building and growing their career. But they agree that success in medicine doesn’t need to follow a predetermined path or even mirror the suggestions they have offered here. It just needs to be yours.