Finding Serenity in a Life Influenced by Anxiety, Suffering, and Empathy

By: Damane Zehra, Radiation Oncology Resident, Pakistan

For some individuals, anxiety is merely a fleeting feeling experienced during transitions or in times of uncertainty. For others, like myself, however, anxiety is a constant presence—often unnoticed and deeply woven into the fabric of our stories of endurance, challenge, and self-exploration.

Growing Up with Scarcity and Aspiring for Even Less

Entering this world amidst financial struggles, my earliest recollections involve observing my father—an educator with limited income—depend on others during trying times. Whether it was gaining access to a school or finding money for a security deposit on our next rental, we managed to get by due to the generosity of others. I made a silent commitment never to find myself in that situation. Autonomy became not just a wish; it turned into my utmost aspiration.

Unlike my peers, I didn’t foster cravings. I held back on wanting, aware that wishes necessitated resources we lacked. Without the privilege to dream, my aspirations diminished to the point that I merely existed. I was compliant, reliable, and emotionally restrained—a “model child” by typical measures, yet emotionally confined. Looking back, I now recognize what may have been childhood depression lurking beneath my composed exterior.

A Girl in a Society That Had Low Expectations

In many traditional households, girls are wrongly perceived as liabilities. From a young age, I felt compelled to demonstrate my value—to prove that girls could be capable, self-sufficient, and resilient. This motivation, born from subtle rebellion, fueled my sense of purpose. I discovered emotional satisfaction not through personal successes, but in uplifting those around me. Bringing happiness to others became my reservoir of strength.

It’s no surprise that this profound empathy guided me toward a medical career. To me, physicians have the exceptional ability to alleviate suffering—something I’ve known intimately throughout my life. However, in accepting this role, I unwittingly took on the burden of others’ pain—absorbing their distress not only because of my heightened emotional sensitivity but also because their suffering became intertwined with my own. Occasionally, I’ve pondered whether pain could be infectious, or if some individuals are simply more receptive than others.

Medicine and the Wonder of Compassionate Care

Becoming a physician provided me with a sense of accomplishment and social acceptance. It marked a reprieve after years of inner turmoil. In every hospital ward and rotation, I became the “preferred” physician. Patients were responsive to me, colleagues valued my contributions, and I earned admiration. That should have sufficed.

Yet, I shed tears daily.

The weight of witnessing pain—physical, emotional, and social—was significant. Yet, I never regretted it. I found solace in knowing that someone felt a bit better after conversing with me, after I treated them, or simply because I cared. If accepting a fraction of someone’s pain could lighten their load, I welcomed it. In those instances, I felt valuable. I felt alive.

Letting Go of Flawlessness, Embracing Acceptance

After years of merely striving to endure, my ambition to achieve began to fade. I had accomplished my objective: I was a doctor. For the first time, I felt sufficient. No extravagant dreams, no yearning for luxuries or glamorous achievements. In fact, I had no definitive vision of what kind of doctor I aspired to be. By circumstance—through examination outcomes and limited choices—I became an oncologist. It wasn’t by intentional design; it just unfolded.

Reflecting on this now, I understand how many of my choices stemmed from a profound dread of uncertainty and the constant question, “What will others think?” This fear was not solely social—it was instinctual for survival. In a world where acceptance felt contingent and female value was scrutinized, conforming to societal standards of success was not ambition, but a mechanism of defense.

However, with time, I started to recognize that pursuing growth without connecting to genuine personal desire is ultimately unfulfilling. What significance does advancement hold if it does not usher in tranquility?

Redefining Accomplishment: Tranquility Over Prestige

Today, I no longer define success by titles, salary, or societal metrics. I’ve discovered that genuine fulfillment does not hinge on external approval. It necessitates inner harmony.

It’s perfectly fine that I don’t aspire to possess a luxury vehicle.
It’s acceptable if I do not pursue international fellowships.
It’s wonderful that I find delight in simplicity, in serving, and in the tranquility of the present moment.
And above all, it’s permissible to take a break without feeling guilty.

I found peace in realizing I don’t need to be more than who I inherently am. My absence of ambition doesn’t signify indifference—it signifies clarity. The chase for external ideals drained me emotionally for years. Now, I prioritize joy, wellness, and peace.

Lessons from Suffering and the Significance of Living in the Moment

Suffering molded me, but it also softened my perspective. It heightened my awareness