When I was starting out, I thought fulfillment was simple: a patient came in with pain, they walked out feeling better, and boom—mission accomplished. That was the dopamine hit. That was “success.”
And don’t get me wrong—those moments still matter. They’re why we do this work. But I learned the hard way that if that’s your only definition of fulfillment, you’ll burn out fast.
Because fulfillment isn’t just about what happens in the treatment room. It’s about the life you’re building around it.
When I Confused Grind with Purpose
I used to think I was being noble by cramming patients back-to-back, skipping lunch, and letting my schedule run me into the ground. My whole identity was tied to volume—how many patients I saw in a day, how many hours I could bill.
The reality? I was exhausted, resentful, and broke half the time. That wasn’t fulfillment—it was servitude dressed up as hustle.
What I’ve learned is that true fulfillment comes from autonomy. It’s being able to decide how you spend your time, who you work with, and how you structure your practice. That’s not greed—it’s sovereignty. It’s what makes your clinical work sustainable.
Scaling Impact Without Burning Out
Here’s another hard truth: you can only needle so many patients in a week before you hit the wall. Fulfillment, for me, started showing up when I realized I could scale my impact beyond one-on-one treatments.
That’s why I started teaching. That’s why I wrote Realigning Medicine. That’s why I consult with other practitioners. None of that was about escaping the clinic—it was about deepening the impact of the clinic by creating more ways to help.
Your knowledge doesn’t just belong to the patient on the table in front of you. It belongs to the people who will never meet you unless you write, teach, or create something that outlives you.
Legacy and Alignment
At this point in my career, fulfillment is about legacy. It’s not just “Did I fix that patient’s back pain?” It’s “Am I leaving behind a blueprint that helps the next generation of practitioners avoid the mistakes I made?”
Fulfillment is when your practice isn’t just a job, but an expression of your values. It’s when your business decisions, your team, your hours, even your fees are congruent with who you actually are.
The Real Work
The hardest part is being honest with yourself about what you want. I had to confront my own financial setpoints—the part of me that felt guilty about making money, or scared about growing too big. I had to admit when I was chasing “me too cars” instead of my North Star.
But once you do that work, fulfillment stops being this elusive idea. It becomes tangible. You can feel it in your body when your practice and your life are aligned.
And here’s the kicker: the joy isn’t just in healing patients. It’s in healing the way you practice, so you can actually enjoy the life you’ve built.
