When I was 19, I stood at a crossroad that felt impossibly vast. Everyone around me seemed so sure of their futures: medicine, dentistry, finance. Meanwhile, I was still scribbling down possibilities, hoping one of them would feel like home. Then I discovered IMU’s Pharmaceutical Chemistry degree. It wasn’t just chemistry in its purest sense; it was chemistry as a language for the real world. Healthcare, formulations, environmental analysis, data science. It was science with doors that opened into countless futures. That flexibility, that promise of possibilities pulled me in.

And then there was the credit transfer pathway. Studying abroad has been a dream of mine, tucked away since I was young. The idea that I could begin my journey here at IMU, an institution well-known and respected in the medical sciences and then continue my adventure overseas felt like the perfect equation. It was the spark I needed to commit.

Life, of course, has its own ways of rewriting our scripts. For personal reasons, I eventually stayed on the local track instead of going abroad. At first, I thought of it as a missed opportunity, a chapter I would never get to write. But in staying, I discovered something unexpected: sometimes the detours are the real story.

Through it all, the Pharmaceutical Chemistry programme became more than just a curriculum, it became my anchor. The faculty here were my compass. The lecturers, especially my mentor offered not only academic guidance but also the kind of support that made me feel seen and understood. Every lecturer I met was generous with their knowledge and their encouragement. They reminded me that science isn’t only about formulas and results; it is about resilience, curiosity, and growth. They showed me that education is not just about passing exams, but about becoming someone capable of contributing meaningfully to healthcare and beyond.

Looking back now, I see more than just classes and deadlines. I see nights spent racing against time to finish lab reports, mornings in the lab troubleshooting experiments that sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t, and afternoons filled with laughter between friends who understood exactly how hard it was because they were living it too. I see my internship as a QA trainee in a pharmaceutical company, where theory finally collided with practice and I learned what accountability really feels like. I see my research project, a chance to explore a topic that was truly mine, a reminder that curiosity could carry me further than fear ever could.

And through it all, I see the people: the friends who carried me through the toughest days, the lecturers whose guidance shaped not only my knowledge but my way of thinking, and a community that gave meaning to every moment of my degree journey.

When I am still a student, I imagine graduation will feel like fireworks, the ultimate finish line. I picture caps flying, cameras flashing, applause filling the air. And yes, that moment comes, and it is beautiful. But no one tells me about the quiet that follows, the moment after, when I sit with my Pharmaceutical Chemistry degree in hand and ask myself: so what now?

I thought I would feel relief, or pride, or both. Instead, I felt something harder to name, a kind of emptiness that made me question whether I was really moving forward at all.

Since then, I have kept myself in motion. I presented my research at the 6th Commonwealth Chemistry Poster Competition, a milestone my 19-year-old self would have never dared to imagine. I have sat across from interviewers, one after another, for roles ranging from research assistant to medical claim assessor, from laboratory worker to technologist. Each conversation left me asking: where does a Pharmaceutical Chemistry graduate like me truly belong?

 What I know for certain is whatever path I choose, it must align with my passion for healthcare and my desire to help people. My degree is more than a certificate; it is proof that science has the power to heal, to protect, and to improve lives. That is the kind of work I want to dedicate myself to, no matter the form it takes.

And maybe that’s what this whole journey has been about, not finding one perfect answer but learning that passion is the compass that will keep me moving forward. Pharmaceutical Chemistry gave me the tools, but my love for healthcare and helping people gives me the why. So as I step beyond graduation, I don’t see a finish line anymore. I see a blank page, waiting to be written with choices that may not always be certain, but will always be mine.

To those walking the halls of IMU now, wondering if you have chosen the right path or worrying about the future, let me tell you this. It is okay not to have it all figured out. Adulthood is not about certainty. It is about learning to live in the spaces between doubt and discovery. It is about understanding that your value is not tied to how quickly you “arrive” at something. It is about trusting that even the smallest, wobbliest steps are still moving you forward.

Most of all, it is about remembering why you started. For me, it was a love for science, a fascination with chemistry, and a deep desire to make a difference in healthcare. That passion has carried me through every late-night report, every nerve-wracking presentation, and every interview where I wondered if I was enough. And it is the same passion that will carry me forward, wherever I go next. You are not behind. You are becoming. And one day, when you look back, you will see that you have been becoming all along.

So take your time. Follow your curiosity. Hold on to the passions that first brought you here. And know that the journey, messy and uncertain and full of detours, is just as beautiful as the destination.

Written by Geoffrey Chong Khai Gin