So far, I've been talking a lot about why I decided to do a PhD, the issues I've encountered and what's my job now that I've left academia. But I've not really mentioned my actual research. Thinking back to my PhD, it's almost like the research I've carried out sits the background of my personal growth. On the contrary, it was one of the main actors, forcing me to step up my game, leave my comfort zone and learn something new every day.
This is the third "episode" of my PhD journey series. Where I go a teensy bit into moving abroad. Where did I go? What was so difficult about it? What did I learn? What is that I will never let myself forget?
For those of you that do not know me, I come from a relatively big town in the suburbs of Naples, in Italy. One of those overpopulated but very sad places where there is not too much to do, or many jobs to find.
This story begins from its end. Or somewhere in the middle. It starts with the end of a PhD, with long months spent trying to understand my next move. What was I doing? Where was I going? So many doubts. Among all of them, one thing was sure: my PhD was not going to define me.