Life after PhD

Five months ago, I submitted my PhD thesis. One month ago, I received my completion letter. It should have felt like a triumphant finale — the end of my student life and the start of the next chapter.

Instead, it feels like standing in a dense fog, unable to see more than a few steps ahead.

This post is for anyone else in that same limbo, and maybe for my future self. I don’t know if I’m making the “right” moves, or if I’ll one day wish I’d followed the traditional post-PhD script. But this is where I am right now.

That “what’s next?” pressure

It’s the question I hear most often — and the one I quietly ask myself every day.

So, what’s next? Have you started applying for jobs?

I see peers securing postdocs or sending out dozens of applications. I haven’t done much of that. Not because I’m avoiding it, but because I don’t want to apply just for the sake of applying. I want to be intentional. I want a role I’m genuinely excited about, working under leadership I respect and can learn from.

Part of my hesitation is practical: my work visa is still in process; my main PhD paper is navigating the long cycle of submission, rejection, and resubmission — and a publication would make me more competitive. I also want to present my research at conferences, both to share my results and to see where my work fits in the bigger picture.

The slow shift toward clarity

Over the past few months, I’ve been experimenting and exploring. My aim: to discover what I can do, what I enjoy doing, and where that intersects with what the world needs. The fog in front of me is starting to lift — very slowly.

Teaching has been a big part of that exploration. This term, I taught in two courses: one in my research area, and another in English communication. The second course, far outside my field, became a “gold standard” example of how to truly engage students. Both courses had incredible teaching teams, and I often felt like I was living the dream — working on projects that excite me, alongside people I deeply admire.

This experience also overturned many of my doubts about teaching. I’ve sometimes worried that being “soft” is a weakness, but in the classroom, my patience and ability to explain clearly became real strengths. I enjoy it, and I’m good at it.

I’ve also been breaking out of my “information box.” In my school, most people are either professors, postdocs, PhDs aiming for a postdoc, or PhDs determined to leave academia entirely. The prevailing wisdom seems to be that after your PhD, you either do a postdoc or jump into industry. But networking with academics from other schools have shown me otherwise. Even within universities, there are more paths than the well-trodden postdoc track.

Where my compass is pointing

Right now, I’m more drawn to academia than industry. I love research, I thrive in the campus environment, and this term I’ve learned how much I enjoy teaching and connecting with students.

My research passion is AI for science — especially using AI to accelerate scientific discovery, rather than simply producing more publications. I’m also curious about branching into biomedical and health applications, beyond my original field of materials science, though that idea is still taking shape.

Beyond research, I want to communicate more — not just with peers in my narrow field, but with the wider public. I want my work to have impact, and I want to inspire the next generation of scientists. That naturally ties into education. After this term’s teaching, I can imagine transforming my research into courses that both inform and excite.

For my next step, I’d like to combine research and teaching. Encouragingly, universities seem to be recognising and supporting this type of blended academic career path for PhD graduates. Recently, I came across the Early Career Academic Fellowship (ECAF) at UNSW — a role split evenly between teaching and research. It’s not well known in my own school, but finding it feels like a sign: there are more opportunities out there than I’ve been led to believe.

So this is what I know so far. I’m still walking in the fog — but I think I’m moving toward the sunrise.