“This Wasn’t My Plan for You”: Reclaiming the Right to Write Your Own Story

It was said to me kindly. Almost caringly.

“This wasn’t my plan for you.”

The first time I heard it (while still in graduate school), I felt guilty. Like I had wandered off course - off their course - for me. The second time (later in my career), I felt frustrated. And then I paused and thought: Wait - I don’t remember giving you the right to make a plan for me in the first place!

The third time a supervisor shared this sentiment with me, I laughed. By then, I knew this refrain. And, I had developed enough trust in myself to hear it for what it was – a well-intentioned attempt to lead me down the same path that the individual had taken themselves.

Collectively, these moments led to a shift in my mindset - from internalizing other people’s expectations to claiming the right to define what success, leadership, and fulfillment look like for me.

The Problem with Inherited Expectations

In academic medicine and higher education, there’s often a linear map others expect us to follow: publish early and often, seek tenure, lead in defined ways using traditional leadership styles, stay within one lane. And if you do something unexpected such as pivot from research to teaching or pursue a passion project instead of the next project a mentor had in mind - you might hear it:

“But that’s not what I had in mind for you.”

Even when well-intended, these messages can be disorienting. You start wondering if you’re making a mistake, or worse, disappointing someone. It takes effort to remember that we were never obligated to fulfill someone else’s plan, no matter how respected or well-meaning they are.

Learning to Trust Myself Instead

My shift didn’t happen overnight. It started quietly, sometimes only perceptible as a nagging uncomfortable feeling that I couldn’t quite make sense of. Later, as I started to collect more of the building blocks that make me, well, me, it got a little louder. I have a distinct memory of sitting in the car, after one of my early medical school teaching sessions. I had just finished teaching a class I helped design from the ground up. I sat there, full of adrenaline and clarity, and scribbled a note: I think this is the work I’m meant to do.

That wasn’t anyone else’s plan for me. It was mine. And once I made the decision to follow that feeling, I began to shape a professional identity rooted in intuition, impact, and integrity.

I sought out training that aligned with my evolving identity. I leaned into educational leadership. I created spaces for connection, vulnerability, and growth. And most importantly, I stopped asking for permission to take a path others didn’t always understand.

This Isn’t Just About Me

There’s a deeper reason why this shift matters: people are watching. Especially the next generation of future leaders - students, mentees, colleagues.

If we only model staying on the path others set for us, we unintentionally teach them to do the same. But if we lead by example by pivoting boldly, claiming our purpose, and being unapologetically ourselves, we invite them to do the same.

We need more leaders who are willing to say, I chose this path because it reflects who I am and how I want to serve. Not because it checked someone else’s box.

Notes from the Journey: Make Your Own Plan

If someone’s ever said, “This wasn’t my plan for you,” you’re not alone. These words can sting, but they can also be an invitation to pause and ask: Whose plan am I living?

You have the right - and the responsibility - to write your own story.

Have you ever felt boxed in by someone else’s expectations? What helped you move forward on your own terms?