I can’t go back, but I remember.
I do not wish to be 25 again—changing the past is a drug I’ve kicked—but I wish to make amends with that part of me that lost what I again hold now: hope. I write this letter for delivery during the summer of 2014.

I can’t go back, but I remember. I do not wish to be 25 again—changing the past is a drug I’ve kicked—but I wish to make amends with that part of me that lost what I again hold now: hope. I write this letter for delivery during the summer of 2014.

I can’t go back, but I&nbsp;remember.
I do not wish to be 25 again—changing the past is a drug I’ve kicked—but I wish to make amends with that part of me that lost what I again hold now:&nbsp;hope. I write this letter for delivery during the summer of 2014.

A Letter To My 25-Year-Old Self

A weekly treatise on committing to one’s heart instead of hiding inside a career of acclaim, acceptance, and complacency. 

In 2022 at 33 years old, I left my career as a doctor, where I could earn $400,000 per year. I owed $200,000 in student loans. I quit because that life was killing me. And it wasn’t medicine’s fault. I have plenty of friends who love medicine, who love taking care of patients. It was my fault; I never wanted to be a doctor. I needed to find out what I wanted. My life was on the line. 

Since, I’ve started a furniture company. That was a surprising plot twist. And I write. Every Thursday, I pen an essay aimed at sharing what it took (and what it takes) to own a life I love, and share the audio version here. 

If you’d like to join one of my free courses or check out other things (including books) that I’ve written, head over to my website https://fightmastermd.com/

Join my newsletter (https://fightmastermd.com/newsletter) and get first book for free today.

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A weekly treatise on committing to one’s heart instead of hiding inside a career of acclaim, acceptance, and complacency. In 2022 at 33 years old, I left my career as a doctor, where I could earn $400,000 per year. I owed $200,000 in student loans. I quit because that life was killing me. And it wasn’t medicine’s fault. I have plenty of friends who love medicine, who love taking care of patients. It was my fault; I never wanted to be a doctor. I needed to find out what I wanted. My life was on the line. Since, I’ve started a furniture company. That was a surprising plot twist. And I write. Every Thursday, I pen an essay aimed at sharing what it took (and what it takes) to own a life I love, and share the audio version here. If you’d like to join one of my free courses or check out other things (including books) that I’ve written, head over to my website https://fightmastermd.com/ Join my newsletter (https://fightmastermd.com/newsletter) and get first book for free today.

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A Letter To My 25-Year-Old Self

A Letter To My 25-Year-Old Self