I used to earn below the poverty line as a PhD student. Now, I’m wealthy.
But I still carry that fear. It never fully leaves you.
For two years after finishing my PhD, I didn’t have a “real” job. This was after five years of Chemical Engineering @ U Waterloo, a Master’s in Management Science, and five more years in a PhD in Businesss Administration.
It was hard to disentangle who I was at the moment with who I wanted to become.
I know what it’s like to wake up at 4 am to work while my kids slept. To skip medical care. To get haircuts and dental cleanings from teaching clinics. To argue with my spouse because of the financial stress.
To wonder if I’d made a terrible mistake.
Most financial gurus told me I was dumb for going this route. But I wasn’t. I understood finance better than most of those gurus.
Still, I asked myself: Would this path ever be worth it?
I still don’t think it was worth it.
(Read this post if you want to know how I survived financially as a PhD student.)
Today, I am “Successful.”
Today, I’m a tenured professor. My school is ‘top.’ (Top what? I am unsure what that means, but most schools almost always say that).
Statistically, I’m wealthy on almost all accounts.
I have a wife of 20 years. I like my kids.
I have a house with a white-picket fence. I live in Florida.
I am saving for retirement. I can retire. I travel.
But I still carry the memory of not having enough.
My parents told me the stories about how they lived in their garage to save money to build a house. They told me what it was like to be a Polish immigrant in the Canadian far north. We were poor–very poor statistically. But, I never felt it, other than I heard “no” almost every day.
These story shaped me. It still does.
I’m not sharing this to boast.
I’m sharing this for the PhD student who’s exhausted and underpaid. For the postdoc who’s trying so hard to keep going. For the assistant professor staring at reviewer comments and wondering if any of this matters.
Because here’s what I’ve learned:
Most PhDs may die without ever getting credit. And I might be one of them.
But:
You don’t need to be cited to be significant.
I know brilliant researchers—better than me—who barely get cited. Not because their ideas are bad, but because academia is a contest with implicit rules that no one admits exist.
The best minds? We often stop citing them. We take them for granted.
But, they are givers of the mind. They’re not quoted well, but everyone knows their work and who they are. We say, “Everyone already knows what they’ve done,” or worse, “They don’t need the credit.”
That’s how the system eats its own.
The Sharp Truth
Meanwhile, those who play the game just right rise up. And we pretend it’s merit.
Let me be blunt:
Citations are not the same as intellectual contribution.
Metrics are not meaning.
H-indexes are not humanity.
I have seen people lift entire departments, mentor all kinds of students, hold communities together—and never crack a Top 100 Most Cited list. You likely know some of these people too.
Let me be even more blunt:
You don’t need to be cited to be significant.
Some of the most powerful people I’ve met in academia barely exist on Google Scholar, especially given the merit they hold in my mind. But their impact? Unforgettable.
You Already Matter
Why am I bringing up these two things? Finances and academic citations?
Because the game is not about proving your worth — it’s about realizing that you are already worthy. “They” just don’t see it yet. You can be broke and still be brilliant. You can be invisible to the world and still change it. You can be left out of rankings and still lift others. Your value isn’t waiting to be granted — it’s already there.
Over the years, I have realized something deeper: the game has little to do with what others see. It’s about what you know in your heart. That you are kind. That you matter. And you step forward anyway. It’s about the quiet confidence to keep going when things don’t go your way — because you trust that, someday, they might. You show up even when no one sees you. Especially then.
What Keeps You Going
Here’s what helped me survive—and keep going:
1. Detach your worth from your productivity. You are valuable whether or not you publish, get grants, or get cited. You are worthy even when you don’t have money or feel like an outsider.
2. Keep showing up. Quietly. Stubbornly. You don’t need an audience to do something meaningful. Especially when no one is watching—that’s when it counts most. You will be surprised. This is the most important time.
3. Don’t wait for permission. You don’t need someone else to validate you. Start building something that matters to you, right now, from where you are. They never will. Nobody will magically say “this is the right time.” You build when you don’t have permission to build.
Three Important Truths
And remember these three truths:
- Being overlooked doesn’t mean you’re unworthy—it often means you’re the real deal. You know it. They don’t see it…. yet.
- The best work is often quiet, slow, and deeply human. It stays invisible for decades. It sucks. But, that is how you go from living in a garage to building a strong paid-for house.
- You don’t need permission to matter. Period. You always matter, even when you don’t have a home, have addictions, and every other normal human thing. You always matter.
You’re not behind. You’re just early.
I’ll keep reminding you of that. Every step of the way.
Let’s move the needle.
One person at a time.
BE THE ONE PERSON WHO DOES.