Neuroscience on a Nonlinear Path: Career, Growth, and Motherhood
When I think about my journey in neuroscience, I do not see a straight line. I see a series of transitions, some planned and some unexpected, that gradually brought me closer to the kind of scientist I wanted to become.
I began my research career in a different scientific field, stepped away from professional work for several years, returned to research, became a mother of two, and eventually found my way to doctoral training and neuroscience research.
At each transition, I learned something new, not only about science but also about how I define progress.
Starting Over
One of the most challenging lessons of changing research directions is becoming a beginner again.
Entering neuroscience and neuroimaging meant learning unfamiliar concepts, software, analysis methods, and terminology. I often found myself surrounded by people who seemed to understand things immediately, while I took longer to grasp them. Even learning a new software package or analysis workflow could feel daunting.
Initially, it was tempting to compare myself to those who had years of experience in the field. Instead, I began to think differently: being a beginner does not mean you do not belong. It is evidence that you are expanding your expertise.
I began asking myself a different question: Am I better at this than I was a month ago?
That simple shift in mindset changed how I viewed learning.
Rethinking Productivity
Building a scientific career while raising children has also changed my understanding of productivity.
Raising two children while pursuing scientific training means that not every day unfolds as planned. Earlier in my career, I might have viewed an interrupted day as unproductive. Now, I ask a different question: What meaningful progress can I make with the time and resources I have today?
Sometimes that means learning one analysis step rather than finishing an entire workflow, reading one paper carefully instead of trying to read several, or asking a question that saves hours of uncertainty.
This experience has taught me that consistency is often more valuable than intensity. We build scientific careers over years, not in a single productive afternoon. There may not be a single “right” timeline for a career in neuroscience. What matters is continuing to learn and grow.
For me, motherhood is part of that journey, not separate from it.
One day, if my children ask me, “Mom, did you sacrifice your dreams for us?” I hope I can tell them, “No. I turned my dreams into reality with you alongside me.”
Redefining Progress
Women in science can sometimes feel pressure to demonstrate that family responsibilities have not affected their careers. I have come to believe that this is the wrong standard.
We should not have to prove that motherhood has had no impact. Of course it changes how we organize our time, priorities, and energy. Instead, we can focus on building sustainable scientific careers that support continued growth.
For me, that has meant being intentional about what I want to learn, which opportunities align with my goals, and which relationships help me grow as a scientist.
Learning Without Losing the Bigger Picture
Graduate school can sometimes feel like an endless list of things to learn. There is always another paper to read, a software package to understand, and a method to master.
When that happens, I try to return to the scientific questions that motivated me in the first place. In my case, that means understanding cognitive functions and contributing to human health.
Learning new methods and reading difficult papers may seem like separate tasks. But together, they are part of becoming a scientist who can ask better questions and investigate them more independently.
What I Would Tell Another Scientist
If I could offer one piece of advice to someone navigating a nonlinear scientific career, it would be this: a different timeline is not a failed timeline.
You may enter graduate school later than your peers, change fields, step away from research, become a parent, or discover new interests that redirect your career. None of these experiences disqualify you from building a meaningful scientific life.
Your previous experiences can become part of your scientific identity rather than obstacles you need to explain away. If you are entering a new area of neuroscience, allow yourself to be a beginner. Science is collaborative, and expertise develops incrementally.
Looking Ahead
I am still learning new methods and figuring out how to balance the different roles in my life. I am still discovering what kind of scientist I want to become.
But I no longer believe I need to have the entire path mapped out.
A scientific career can evolve as we evolve. For me, being a mother has not replaced being a scientist, and being a scientist does not require me to set aside the rest of my life. Both experiences have taught me to value persistence, flexibility, curiosity, and meaningful progress.
The path may not be perfectly linear. It does not have to be.
What matters is continuing to move forward, one question, one skill, and one opportunity at a time.
About the Contributor
