After I was medically discharged from the military for seeking mental health treatment and transitioned out of surgery residency to recover, I isolated in guilt, shame, and exhaustion.

Despite my surgery program director telling me repeatedly that he was not disappointed in me and supporting me fully in my decision to transition into a different specialty where I could better take care of my health, I felt worthless and like a complete failure.

While I may not have disappointed him, I undoubtedly did disappoint the other residents whose lives were negatively impacted by my departure as the work I would have been doing was redistributed to them. I do care how my departure impacted those who took on more work on my behalf, and I am deeply sorry that they were left with the consequences of my career pivot—surgical residency is hard enough with all hands on deck.

My guilt and shame did not reduce the workload for those individuals, however. It did lead me to isolate and nearly starve myself to death, which I could see more clearly in retrospect. At the time, I was dissociated from myself and so full of self-hate that I did not have the energy to intervene in my slow decline as I observed myself losing hope and the desire to live.

My worth and self-perception were so intimately tied to my career and other people’s opinions that being discharged from the military and changing careers nearly killed me. Knowing the intensity of pain we can go through as a consequence of mental health stigma, career loss, financial uncertainty, and life and career transitions is what fuels my mission to help others today. If you are in the thick of it, I hope you may use my words to know that you are not alone and this pain will lessen with time as we reclaim the narratives and ground ourselves in what truly matters—your life being top priority.

Nothing in your career is more important than your life. Nothing.

Despite pervasive moments of apathy, I held on to just enough hope (much borrowed from others) to use my rock bottom to push off into a new way of living, shedding oppressive and damaging societal messages layer by layer along the way.

One of the most pivotal moments in my recovery that helped me to let go of the fear of other people’s opinions was when my article “I risked my career to save my life” was published on KevinMD. I started submitting articles on KevinMD that represented the content that I felt most shame around. I provided the information I wanted to get out into the world in case I died. Apathy worked in my favor as it led me to be vulnerable and release the words without filtering. Feedback I received often included words around me being “brave” or “courageous,” but the reality is, my apathy and belief that I may die at any moment motivated me to get the words out with fewer shits to give about what people would say about me when they read it.

My main motivation was hoping that sharing my stories could save someone, and I did not realize that someone would include me.

Sharing my stories and receiving support lifted the shame that had thrived in secrecy and isolation. Additionally, accepting my mortality as I faced it head-on helped me to live more authentically—and that has been the benefit of surviving life-threatening exacerbations of my condition. Though it took a few times for me to choose to live differently after hitting rock bottoms, I hope you may receive and apply the lessons to your life without having to learn them the hard way. We do not always get another chance.

Interestingly, I have pivoted my career several more times since I left surgery, each step getting me closer and closer to living an authentic life that is fulfilling and aligned with how I want to make an impact in this world. A colleague referred to me as the “professional pivoter,” and it meant a lot to me as I thought about how much different I feel about myself during career transitions now than I did when I left surgery.

The main differences for me initially came from detaching my worth from my career titles and achievements. As I sat on my near deathbed, my credentials were not there to comfort me. They could not save me. The next phase in healing came from detaching from the fear of other people’s opinions. I value hearing what people think and diverse perspectives, and I no longer fear when people reject me or criticize me as I have acknowledged this reality:

People’s opinions of us are through their own lenses based on their own biases and a small glimpse of our lives that we allow them to see. Our perception of what others think of us is a reflection of our own biases, experiences, and beliefs about ourselves.

It is natural to value acceptance and approval as we are evolutionarily made to be in community with one another (despite societal pressures promoting individualism, which is harmful and a topic for another day). However, my reliance on other people’s opinions of me and need for external validation was excessive, because I had come to believe that my own opinion was less important and lost my voice along the way.

Developing a beginner’s mind grounded in curiosity, compassion, and non-judgment helped me to learn how to hear other people’s opinions without them feeling like a personal attack and threat to my self-perception. The shift has allowed me to be more open to others’ opinions without fear that my worth is at stake.

Ultimately, I think the best way to protect ourselves from spiraling in the face of rejection, judgment, and criticism from others is to ground ourselves in a kind, loving relationship with ourselves—knowing that your life matters, your voice matters, your opinion matters, and other people know very little about you. We spend our whole lives getting to know ourselves. Why do we give so much power to those who engage with us for very brief moments?

If you are stuck and held back by the fear of other people’s opinions, I invite you to ask yourself this: Why does their opinion about you matter more than your opinion about you?

It is a simple question, but there is often a lot to unpack. I highly encourage you to partner with a therapist, coach, and/or trusted friend as you shed the layers of societal messages that have been leading you astray and find your way back home to yourself.

You matter, and you are worthy of a fulfilling life true to you—I do not need your CV to know that.

And one more reminder: nothing in your career is more important than your life. Nothing.

Jillian Rigert is an oral medicine specialist and radiation oncology research fellow.