In this episode of Pursue Purpose Podcast, we dive into the mindset shifts that may be holding you back from fully stepping into your purpose. I share my personal journey of leaving a stable career in the biomedical field to pursue photography, the fears and doubts I had to overcome, and the steps I took to build a fulfilling and sustainable business. If you’re feeling stuck or afraid to take the leap, this episode will help you gain clarity, shift your mindset, and move toward the life and career you truly want. I am a Seattle Wedding Photographer and have been photographing people for over a decade. I'm so excited to share my journey with you!

Transcript:

Hey guys, welcome back to another episode of Pursue Purpose Podcast. Today I am talking about ways you are holding yourself back in pursuing your purpose. In one of my previous episodes, I talked about ways to identify how to pursue your purpose. Now I want to talk about what might be holding you back because I know from my own journey that I had a lot to go through in order to actually take the leap and quit my full-time corporate job.

As you may know from listening to past episodes, I spent many years in the scientific industry working toward a career in the biomedical field. For me to be able to step back from that and say, I want to be a photographer was a hard pill to swallow initially. In order to actually make that leap, I had to go through a lot of mindset shifts along the way.

Today I want to talk about that. The ways you are holding yourself back are 100 percent mindset. It could be fear—fear of judgment, wondering if you're going to actually succeed in what you are doing, wondering if maybe you'll even enjoy it. A lot of people get into a momentum of doing the thing that's comfortable, doing the thing that they have always done.

In my case, I had spent so long working toward my PhD. I got my PhD, did a postdoc, and was committed to being in the biomedical field. But I started shooting weddings while I was in grad school, and it was something that felt fulfilling in different ways. I could always justify the research I was doing—someday, it might help cure something, a disease, whatever it was. That justification was motivating, but it still lacked a sense of fulfillment for me.

When you grow up in a certain environment where certain careers are considered respectable—maybe everyone in your household becomes a lawyer or a doctor—there are certain paths that are seen as higher levels of achievement. Photography was not one of those. It was considered an art form, something you couldn't really make money doing. I was surrounded by messages that encouraged something stable.

My parents were in the healthcare field—my dad was a doctor, my mom was a pharmacist. The expectation was to go through extensive training, get high degrees, and secure a stable career. I remember my mom talking about people working with pharma companies who would get laid off, and she’d say, You don’t want that. She encouraged finding a job where I could pave my way and feel secure.

While pursuing my PhD, I always had this artistic side. I needed a creative outlet, so I started photography. I was surrounded by a bubble of other people pursuing PhDs, becoming scientists. Some of them wanted to stay in academia and become professors. Others realized that life was challenging and went into biomedical industry jobs—pharma, biotech, medical writing. I went into tech support.

There were a lot of career paths available with a PhD that didn’t involve becoming a professor. But when I started grad school, that was my goal. Being surrounded by people pursuing similar goals made it hard to look elsewhere. It felt like that level of achievement defined success.

At some point, I started feeling out of place. I valued family life and wanted a career that could support my dreams of having kids and being a present parent. I wanted a motherhood journey that wasn’t just working all day and seeing my kids at night or on weekends.

When I started thinking about careers that supported that kind of lifestyle, I realized that many of the paths available to me at my level—PhD-level careers—didn’t align with what I wanted. I didn't fully realize that until I had gone through grad school. In my early 20s, fresh out of college, I followed the logical next step. It made sense at the time. But as I evolved, I started clarifying what truly mattered to me.

Freedom, flexibility, and a lifestyle that supported family life became my priorities. I did find a job that allowed for some of that. I could work from home and had a supportive manager. If I needed to take time off for my kids, I could do that without judgment. But I wasn’t fulfilled by the career itself. Even though I was good at it and it provided stability, it wasn’t enough to make me feel truly happy.

When thinking about what’s holding you back, you have to ask yourself those deeper questions. Why is it so hard to take the leap? What are the internal reasons stopping you from moving forward? For me, I had to gain clarity around my values. I also had to surround myself with like-minded people.

It would have been impossible for me to leave my postdoc at the time if I hadn't started immersing myself in a creative community. Leaving my postdoc after two years, when I was initially offered three, was already a big step. I had spent so much time working toward this goal. Changing course was difficult because I was surrounded by high-achieving PhD peers.

At the same time, I had started shooting weddings and was surrounded by creatives who were doing incredible things. Seeing people build successful businesses, enjoying more freedom and flexibility, helped me realize that was the model I wanted. I saw people thriving, making great money, being their own bosses. That was actually what I wanted.

A professor in a lab is essentially running a small business—managing grants, leading research. I had to surround myself with others who were doing what I aspired to do. Eventually, I realized these were my people, not the PhD community I had initially been a part of.

Another big factor I had to grapple with was Will I be judged? That fear of judgment held me back. I was worried about how my family, particularly my parents, would react. It was hard for them at first to understand why I was stepping away from my scientific career path. But once I was clear on my vision and could articulate it, they understood.

I also had to build my business to a level where I felt financially supported. That fear of Will I be successful? was huge. Many businesses don’t make it past a certain point, so I needed to prove to myself that I could sustain it. I had to have small wins along the way—raise my pricing, consistently book clients at that rate, and create a business plan.

I’m a very strategic person, so having a plan in place was crucial. I wouldn’t have taken the leap if I hadn’t built in safety nets—savings, a clear pricing model, and a sustainable business plan. Now, even in slower booking seasons, I feel confident because I set up those systems from the start.

Mindset is everything. I spent years debating whether to go full-time in photography. I finally made the leap in July of 2024, after running my business for 10 years. It took that long because I had to overcome so many mindset shifts.

If you feel like you’re stuck, it’s likely a mindset block. That nagging feeling means something. Clarify your values, find a community of people who are doing what you aspire to do, and take action.

If you’re interested in mentoring with me, I would love to help other women who feel stuck and want to move forward. I can be an example and guide you toward your goals. I’d love to coach you—please reach out. Thank you so much for tuning in!