Four
It has been a couple of months since my last blog entry, and behind my silence was the stress and preparation for my PhD defense. On July 15, 2025, I became a doctor. Dr. Maria Margarita Fontecha Tirado. (I’m Latina so two last names)
I am deeply grateful for my communities in Canada and Colombia who surrounded me with love and support over the past four years. Their encouragement carried me through one of the most difficult challenges of my life. If anyone asked me, I would say a PhD is not only intellectually demanding—it is also an emotional battle. Like many other scholars have shared, this kind of program makes you question yourself again and again. It places you in unbalanced positions where you sometimes feel voiceless. Academia can be inspiring and full of discovery, but it can also be competitive and, at times, lacking in empathy. Of course, this is just my experience—every human being lives this journey in their own unique way.
Amid the struggles, my PhD was also filled with joyful and beautiful moments, and with people I will always cherish. This journey gave me the chance to know my own country more deeply and to challenge my biases and assumptions about rurality there. During my field research I kept asking myself what is rural for a remote population where illicit and licit economies co-exist?
One of my main reasons for pursuing a PhD was to learn—and yes, I learned a lot. But perhaps the most humbling lesson was realizing how little I actually know. What a blessing it is to be amazed every time I learn something new or meet someone generous enough to share their wisdom. I hope I never lose this sense of awe.
As I close this chapter, I find myself facing the big question: now what? I want to stay connected to research and academia, but in a different way. I want to do work that contributes to the world and to people’s lives—while also making space for myself and my loved ones. During the PhD, I often put academic deadlines ahead of family, friends, and my own wellbeing. I don’t want to repeat that pattern. My body has been telling me is enough many times this year.
However, letting go of the PhD routine has been harder than I expected. For four years, there was always something urgent to do. Now, even though there are still tasks ahead, I can allow myself a break. And yet, my mind keeps whispering that I might be missing something—or failing the system. Years of living in fight-or-flight mode made me feel I always needed to be ready with answers. (Hello, anxiety.)
Despite the ups and downs, I leave this journey with incredible skills that feel especially relevant in today’s AI-driven world. I’ve sharpened my critical thinking and my ability to translate complex information into plain, accessible language. I’ve built resilience and learned how to be there for myself—reminding myself that I can, even when the outside world says I’m not enough. Sometimes, it felt like that meme of a baby giving herself little slaps on the back before sliding down the toboggan; cheering herself on despite the fear. That was me, many times.
But perhaps the most important thing is that I remained myself through it all. I never tried to become someone else to “fit in.” My loudest, most compassionate self was present, both in the highs and the lows, and for that I’m really proud.
In the coming months, I’ll be sharing more about my dissertation findings and reflecting on the “what next” of this journey. For now, I’m sitting with the gratitude, the uncertainty, and the freedom of this in-between space.
And maybe, that’s exactly where I need to be.
I used AI to correct my grammar and some sentences of the article.
