Medical Residency in the US (at Mayo Clinic): the art of falling quietly…
It’s the beginning of autumn here in the US, and once again, the falling leaves remind us of the art of letting go quietly — as Manoel de Barros once said. Walking in front of Mayo Clinic today, on my way to another residency shift, watching the leaves drift down, I was overtaken by nostalgia, reflecting on the falls that brought me here.
Our journey is a constant cycle of falls and new beginnings, and each one has its purpose, even if we don’t always grasp it right away.
When we talk about falling, we can’t help but also talk about fear — especially the fear of what others will think. That fear can be an invisible yet enormous barrier. I want to remind you that others’ opinions are always shaped by their own stories, and that every judgment is, in truth, a confession.
No one cares about us nearly as much as we imagine.
Success on the road to residency in the U.S. depends, above all, on overcoming the fear of putting yourself out there. Growth means stumbling — on the wrong UWorld questions, in practice exams with disappointing scores, during those first case presentations in rotations that make your palms sweat. The way forward is to leap without a plan B. Without full commitment, there is no success in this process.
I vividly remember the anxiety of watching my colleagues in Brazil take prep courses for residency exams, while I wrestled with the fear of “what if.” What if I was taking a path that was too different? What if it didn’t work out? I also remember having to postpone Step 1 after several practice exams with no improvement. The uncertainty weighed heavily on my shoulders. But just as in sports, the USMLE rewards consistency. It rewards those who, even on the hardest days, keep showing up — whether that means tackling just five questions on an overwhelming day, or sending yet another application for an observership after yet another rejection.
There’s one truth shared by everyone who matched: persistence in the face of “no’s.” Beyond that, the Match belongs to those who learn to say “no” — to what isn’t a priority, to what doesn’t align with our purpose. It’s about choosing what truly matters and having the courage to focus fully on what makes the most sense to us.
What sustained me the most through this cycle of falling and starting over were personal connections.
Being surrounded by those who are “in the arena” with me, also putting themselves out there, also facing the same challenges. The Discord community from Jornada, with whom I studied side by side. The motivating messages from my mentors and, sometimes, the “wake-up calls” I needed to reset my perspective. Recently, even in the early months of residency, I needed one of those reminders again: that the focus should be less on comparing myself to others and more on my own growth. Are you better than you were yesterday? Are you keeping the posture of a learner? It doesn’t matter what I don’t know yet; what matters is that I know how to learn.
These relationships make the journey not just possible, but joyful. After all, the USMLE is only the beginning. There’s Step 1, then Step 2 CK, then interviews, residency, and, who knows, fellowship further down the road.
The finish line is always moving forward — which makes finding happiness along the way essential.
It’s the human connections that make this journey lighter and more fun.
In the end, the path to residency in the U.S. is exactly that: falling and getting back up, with consistency and resilience. Each fall teaches us to rise stronger, ready to extend a hand to someone in need — or, at other times, to accept the hand of someone there to lift us up.
With determination, we all get there — together!
