Finally, I’m “40 under 40”. 40 days to my 40th birthday that is, not the Forbes award. I won’t lie that the number weighs on me, 40 years old is a big number.
Entering the 20s was all about new worlds to explore. Life looked amazing, infinite, boundless. There wasn’t much thought of who I wanted to be, other than a scientist. That was the plan and that was the path, starting from my little corner of a rural village in northern Spain. Whatever it took. Move to the Canary Island to do Astrophysics? Check. Apply for a PhD I surely won’t get? Check. Pass the last uni exam at the last minute so I can accept the PhD position I somehow got? Check. Move to Germany without speaking a word of German? Check. Travel throughout Europe on a budget? Check. I was extremely opinionated as an atheist scientist, and I had a ton of fun as a graduate student in Gottingen, the perfect city for that decade. I made true friendships across Europe that I still keep today. It was also the decade I realized that my understanding of what science should be didn’t agree with what the world says. I felt research and academia could not be all that science is, I knew I had to steer away to find my path, but I was smart enough to enjoy the ride before jumping off the train: I finished my PhD, and accepted a postdoc as rocket scientist in Washington DC, knowing I would probably not finish it. I was also part of the astronaut selection process and was considering a job at fancy global consulting firm. I happily headed to DC, the world felt full of possibilities and time. I would figure out what Science meant for me. I wrapped my 20s as I decided to jump the academic train, without a plan B, without a visa, into the unknown, ready to adjust and learn. Aptly, I finished my 20s skydiving (twice), which was a crazy and boundless experience I loved.
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