Welcome to the PhD Life Blog

One of the most important skills you develop during a PhD is ‘resilience’ - you often build it without even noticing. It rarely looks dramatic or heroic. Instead, it grows quietly in the background, emerging each time you choose to keep going despite uncertainty, frustration, or self-doubt. This steady, understated strength becomes one of the most valuable parts of the doctoral journey, shaping you in ways that only become clear with time.

Resilience is built in the small, everyday moments rather than the big milestones. It’s there when you reread a paper for the third time because the theory still isn’t clicking, or when you return to a paragraph that simply doesn’t make sense. I’ve had many of those moments myself, especially during intense periods of literature reviewing where every article seemed to contradict the last. It often felt like trying to assemble a puzzle without knowing what the final picture should be. But each time I sat back down, tried again, and pushed through the discomfort, I was quietly strengthening my ability to persist. Even when it didn’t feel like progress, it was.

Over time, I realised that resilience doesn’t only grow through academic challenges. It also develops through the things we do outside our research—the hobbies, routines, and activities that help us reconnect with ourselves. For me, Pilates has become one of those anchors. There’s something incredibly steadying about focusing on breath, posture, and movement after a long day of reading or data analysis. Pilates reminds me that strength isn’t always about pushing harder; sometimes it’s about slowing down, tuning in, and giving your body the chance to reset.

Swimming offers a different kind of clarity. There’s a rhythm to moving through water that quiets the noise of unfinished drafts and upcoming deadlines. Some of my best ideas have surfaced mid-lap, when my mind is finally free from the pressure to produce. Walking in nature, whether around campus, along the lakes, or through nearby parks, —has become another essential part of my routine. It’s a reminder that progress doesn’t always happen at a desk. Sometimes it happens when you’re taking a step back.

These hobbies aren’t distractions; they’re part of what keeps me resilient. They create space to breathe, to think, and to return to my work with more clarity than before. They also help me maintain perspective. A difficult chapter feels less intimidating after an hour of movement. A confusing dataset feels more manageable after a walk where I’ve had time to process. These activities don’t solve problems directly, but they make me more capable of solving them.

Support plays a crucial role in this process. During my outreach work at Warwick, I learned how much easier challenges become when you’re surrounded by people who understand what you’re trying to achieve. The same is true in a PhD. Whether it’s a supervisor offering a new perspective, a cohort sharing their own struggles, or a friend listening while you talk through ideas, these connections help you stay grounded when things feel overwhelming. Resilience isn’t built in isolation; it grows through community, encouragement, and the reassurance that you’re not navigating this journey alone.

Celebrating small wins is another essential part of building resilience. PhDs are long, and progress can feel slow, so recognising the little steps—finishing a draft, understanding a tricky concept, asking for help when you need it—can make a significant difference. These moments matter more than we often realise. They remind you that you are moving forward, even if the pace feels slow. Over time, these small achievements accumulate into something meaningful: a sense of capability, momentum, and trust in your own ability to figure things out.

Rest is equally important. It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that productivity is the only measure of progress, but taking time away from your work isn’t a setback—it’s what allows you to return with clarity and energy. Some of my best ideas have emerged after stepping away for a while, letting my mind breathe, and giving myself permission to pause. Rest isn’t a luxury; it’s a strategy. It keeps you balanced enough to continue, and it protects the curiosity and creativity that brought you into research in the first place.

Ultimately, resilience isn’t about being unshakeable. It’s about finding your balance again each time you wobble. It’s the ability to adapt, recover, and keep moving even when things feel difficult. The truth is, you’re building it every single day—through the challenges you face, the support you seek, the small wins you celebrate, and the rest you allow yourself to take. You may not always see it, but resilience is quietly shaping you into a stronger, more capable researcher than you were when you began.

By Megan Clement