A Quiet Threshold
A reflection on honour, healing, and transition
I’m honouring a milestone in psychiatry—and making space for what’s emerging.
It’s a quiet moment, really.
A robe, a handshake, a few steps across the stage. Your name is called, people applaud. But your mind is elsewhere—not in the grandeur of the hall, but somewhere far more intimate.
You think of your first patient.
You think of the long nights, the short notes, the cases that never left you. You think of the moments when the work almost broke you—and the ones that reminded you why you stayed.
A few days ago, I had the honour of receiving my Fellowship at the Royal College of Psychiatrists in London. It is a ceremonial recognition, yes—but also a deeply personal one. It marks years of showing up for others, of listening to stories most people never hear. It represents the quiet resilience of clinical life, the weight of bearing witness to suffering, and the privilege of being entrusted with another person’s inner world.
This moment felt less like a finish line and more like a threshold.
A chance to reflect not on achievement, but on meaning.
The Hidden Curriculum of Psychiatry
Psychiatry is often misunderstood. From the outside, it may seem abstract—defined by diagnoses and disorders. But those of us who live in it know: it is profoundly human. It teaches you to listen beyond words, to sense what is unspoken, and to sit with uncertainty.
The most powerful lessons in psychiatry don’t come from textbooks.
They come from silence. From rupture and repair. From hearing the same story for the tenth time—and finally understanding what was never said.
Becoming a Fellow does not mean I have mastered the field.
If anything, it means I have surrendered to its complexity.
It means I’ve learned how little we can fix, and how much we can hold.
Why I’m Sharing This Here
I write this for those who follow this Substack not just for psychiatry, but for its stories—for the narrative of care, of meaning-making, of being present in an age that often rushes past the invisible.
Milestones like these matter not for the recognition, but for the reflection they prompt. They invite us to pause. To ask:
What kind of doctor am I becoming?
What kind of person?
And maybe you don’t wear a robe or attend a ceremony. But maybe you, too, are crossing thresholds in your own life—quietly, inwardly. If so, I honour that with you.
“Becoming a Fellow is a recognition of your ability and dedication to our profession and you should be proud of your valuable contribution to psychiatry”-
Royal College of Psychiatrists, UK 🇬🇧
An Offering, In This Moment of Transition
As I prepare to return home this week—after closing a chapter of 25 years and opening the door to the next—I’m offering a few 1:1 mentoring, coaching, or strategy sessions over the next few days.
These are for those navigating:
Professional or personal reinvention
Burnout, transition, or decision-making in healthcare
Neurodiversity, complexity, or care in cross-cultural contexts
That quiet “Who am I now?” space we so rarely name
If something in this reflection speaks to you—if you’re also in a threshold space—I’d be honoured to hold space for you.
Sessions are £100 for 1 hour. To book, reply to this email or DM me. I’ll share details directly.
If this isn’t for you but someone comes to mind, feel free to forward this on.
One conversation can ripple far.
🎥 A Moment from the Ceremony
This short clip holds a lifetime behind it.
With humility and hope,
From the home of The Calm and Confident Mind
Dr Anney V
Dr Anney Varghese FRCPsych
Physician-Psychiatrist | Educator | Creator
🌎🧠 Bridging Cultures & Minds
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Congrats on the honours you were given. Combined with the kind words, it shows that you deserved this recognition.
Congratulations and beautiful writing