31, and Learning to Choose Meaning Over Momentum

A Note for Anyone Considering a Career Transition

Career transitions shouldn’t be rushed — especially not as a way to escape discomfort.

Before deciding:

• Ask whether your current role still aligns with your interests

• Talk to people — let them challenge your thinking

• Be honest about what energises you and what drains you

We spend roughly eight hours a day at work. 

Choosing to rethink that commitment isn’t weakness — it’s responsibility.

Once you decide:

• Identify the gap between where you are and where you want to be

  • knowledge

  • skill set

  • transferable strengths

Then close that gap intentionally — through platforms like LinkedIn Learning, Coursera, or government support such as SkillsFuture.

There is no single “correct” transition path. Some people hold a job while upskilling. Others leave entirely.

What matters isn’t speed — it’s honesty.

With AI lowering barriers to entry, access to knowledge has never been wider. What remains scarce is clarity.

Here an honest reflection on career, responsibility, and starting again

At 31, I realised something uncomfortable: the career I worked hard to enter no longer fit the person I had become.

In 2023, I joined Singapore General Hospital as a Medical Technologist in the TB laboratory. It’s widely regarded as one of the most demanding labs to enter, and I was genuinely proud to be there. If I had continued on that path, my future was clear — Medical Scientist, a stable trajectory, a defined professional identity.

On paper, it made sense.

But life doesn’t always follow paper plans.

Due to family responsibilities, I had to step away and take a pause. What initially felt like a disruption slowly became something else entirely. That pause gave me space to ask questions I had never allowed myself to ask before — not out of ambition, but out of responsibility.

Fast forward to 2025, I returned to healthcare as a Laboratory Technologist at Mount Alvernia Hospital.During my probation period, something became hard to ignore:my interest in laboratory work had changed.

I no longer felt the same engagement I once did — especially compared to my time at DSO National Laboratories during the COVID period, where experimentation, problem-solving, and optimisation were part of daily work. In the hospital environment, optimisation exists — but within strict limits. Over time, that limitation started to weigh on me.

The real turning point came with burnout.

I found myself asking a question I couldn’t ignore anymore:

Do I want this to be my career for the rest of my life?

The answer was uncomfortable — but honest was no

Where My Interest Actually Lies

What I realised wasn’t that I disliked science or experimentation. It was that I missed iterating, optimising, and building systems that evolve.

That led me to what I now call digital diagnostics.

The thinking process felt familiar:

• observing behaviour

• forming hypotheses

• testing changes

• analysing outcomes

• optimising systems

The difference wasn’t the mindset — it was the environment.

In the digital space, experimentation is encouraged. In hospitals, it is necessarily constrained.

This shift didn’t come lightly.

Before committing, the same three questions kept returning:

• Am I willing to give up a stable career that AI is unlikely to replace?

• Am I prepared to learn again — starting close to zero, despite my education?

• Is this a thoughtful decision, or an impulsive escape from burnout?

I sat with these questions for a long time.

What ultimately pushed me forward was a simple thought: I didn’t want to reach old age knowing I stayed somewhere only because it felt safe.

Choosing How to Transition

Once I decided to change, I saw two possible paths.

The safe path — continue working and upskill gradually. The decisive path — leave completely and focus fully on rebuilding.

I chose to leave.

Not because it was easier — but because staying while disengaged felt unfair.

Unfair to myself, and unfair to the organisation investing time and resources in me.

Leaving created space — mentally and practically — to focus, reflect, and rebuild with intention.

Leaving wasn’t about chasing something new

It was about being honest about what no longer worked.

Once the decision was made, I didn’t feel relief —I felt responsibility.

Responsibility to slow down, to think clearly, and to move forward without rushing.

This wasn’t the end of a career.It was the beginning of a more deliberate one.

The next posts will document what came after the decision —the support I sought, the gaps I identified, and how I rebuilt without burning out.