Chapter 27
twenty-seven
. . .
Violet
“Are we sure it’s not too late to quit academia?” Maya groans, shoving her laptop across the desk after spending the last three hours trying unsuccessfully to fix her coding script.
“Well, given that you’ve already received your PhD, are about to finish your postdoc, and are actively interviewing for faculty positions…I’d say that ship has sailed for you.”
“I don’t know. I feel like we could still throw caution to the wind and set up a bookstore-café together. Or maybe even move to Scotland and set up a little Bed ‘n Breakfast while we charm the townies with our American ways.” She sighs hopefully.
“Are you watching Outlander again?”
“Sam Heughan’s just so dreamy. I could drown in him and his accent.” Maya stands up and stretches, digging through her bag for a charger. “Instead, I’m drowning in scripts that refuse to run. ”
“Don’t forget reviewer comments that make me question everything about myself and my abilities as a researcher,” I add, thinking about another item that was added to my to-do list this week.
Nothing builds character and fuels imposter syndrome more than the process of sending your research papers to be published in academic journals. If you’re lucky enough to get it past the editor, it’s then sent off to a few leading experts in your field for them to tear it apart. The funniest part is that we celebrate getting ripped apart because at the very least it means we weren’t outright rejected. Sure, you may have to respond to dozens of comments and restructure your whole paper just to appease the reviewers, but at least you’ll get your work published. Woo.
“You know, I bet if we put our brains together, we could start our own romance-only bookstore in my hometown.” I only semi-joke.
“You say the words Violet and I’ll drop everything now. Nothing sounds more perfect than being in a small town, curled up next to books with happy endings, and sipping on a vanilla latte. Instead, here we are, basing the success of our careers on validation from anonymous Reviewer 2’s. Speaking of which, any news on your fellowship application yet?”
After endless late nights, at least ten rounds of edits from Bethany, one and a half mental breakdowns, and an ungodly amount of tea, I was finally able to submit my fellowship application two weeks ago.
“Things have been quiet and probably will be for a while. Bethany told me that at some point in the next few months, a panel of faculty will review applications and vote on who gets the award.”
“Well, I’m crossing all my fingers for you, though I doubt you even need it. Your materials are so strong.”
“You have to say that as my friend.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh .
“No, I’m serious Violet. You are literally one of the most hardworking and dedicated people I know. Your resume is more impressive than most postdocs and you just started your third year. And that’s even accounting for all the bullshit you went through your first year with she-who-will-not-be-named.” Maya is teasing, but I still feel a twinge in my chest.
Aside from Bethany, and now I guess Mason, Maya’s the only person who knows the full extent of what I endured. The first time she and I met followed a particularly brutal meeting with Dr. Atkins.
“You know I had my initial hesitations about accepting you as my student Violet. I wasn’t sure if someone coming from a state school could handle the rigor of our program.”
“I understand.” I didn’t. University of Vermont may have been a public school, but it still had an excellent research program.
“The department encouraged me to look past that due to your… diverse background, but now I’m wondering if that was a mistake.”
“It’s not. I’ll work harder, I promise.” I wouldn’t cry in front of her. As much as I wanted too I wouldn’t. This is what I wanted. I wanted to work under the best, so naturally, she was going to be super hard on me. This would all be worth it in the end.
“You better. No more excuses, no more leniency, and no more handouts. I expect more. A lot more.”
“Violet?” Maya’s voice brings me back.
“Yeah, sorry. Thinking back to my first year just brought back some memories…” As much as I loved researching brains and learning about how they develop and function, sometimes I wished I could just turn mine off.
A wave of understanding and sympathy comes over her face. “Shit, that’s my bad. I didn’t mean to?—”
“You’re totally fine. It happens sometimes. I really thought after a year of working with Bethany I’d be able to magically erase all the bad memories, but…” But somehow, I still found myself feeling haunted by the past. Some days were better than ot hers, but I still wasn’t able to fully let go. I don’t know if I can, no matter how much I want to.
Maya shakes her head vehemently. “No, do not erase them. You were in an extremely toxic environment where she verbally harassed you and emotionally manipulated you every day for a year straight. Use that to fight back and make her regret ever doubting you.”
“I think I just feel guilty sometimes,” I confess.
“About what?”
“I don’t know. About the fact that I can’t let go, I guess? Like yes, I went through something awful, but I’m in a better place now, and I have been for a while. Our lab is so supportive, and I couldn’t ask for a kinder and more thoughtful mentor than Bethany. But I still have moments where I feel upset and hurt by what happened to me. And I feel like that makes me ungrateful. Like I’m not appreciating the good things that I have in my life now, because I’m still holding on to the past.”
Maya walks over and gives me a hug. “You’re not ungrateful, you’re just human. And you’re allowed to feel happy and safe here while still being pissed about the ways you were mistreated.”
I had repeated those same words to myself, but something about someone else saying them helped. “Thanks Maya. I really needed to hear that.”
“Of course, that’s what I’m here for.” She reached down for her backpack and slung it on her shoulders. “Any chance you want to come over and work at my place instead? I can’t promise that there’s any food in my fridge, but I can promise that KoKo will give you lots of affection.” KoKo was Maya’s rescue dog. The small Jindo doubled as our lab mascot and the best emotional support animal a stressed academic could ask for. When you’re as lonely as I am, the prospect of a dog snuggle sounds like a pretty good Friday night.
“It’s a date.”