It's Official. Dr. Leo Gilling
A few years ago, I woke up one morning overcome by a profound realization: despite the public recognition, regard, and respect I had garnered in my journey as a philanthropist, something was amiss.
I appeared to have it all—a successful business and a decent career—but deep down, I felt a gaping void, a nagging sense of unfulfillment that just wouldn’t dissipate. For the majority of my existence, I had devoted myself to the well-being of others, tirelessly striving to uplift their lives. I had fulfilled my parental roles and created what many deemed a successful life, yet an unsettling feeling lingered, suggesting that I had not achieved everything I was truly destined for.
I appeared to have it all—a successful business and a decent career—but deep down, I felt a gaping void, a nagging sense of unfulfillment that just wouldn’t dissipate. For the majority of my existence, I had devoted myself to the well-being of others, tirelessly striving to uplift their lives. I had fulfilled my parental roles and created what many deemed a successful life, yet an unsettling feeling lingered, suggesting that I had not achieved everything I was truly destined for.
This moment of introspection brought flooding back memories from my early childhood, particularly the painful experiences of not gaining entrance into the school I longed to attend and the crushing disappointment I felt when I failed my first significant examination, the Common Entrance Exam. At the tender age of 6 or 7, I promised my mother that I would become a doctor one day, envisioning myself as a medical professional in a white coat. Tragically, my mother passed away before I could make that dream a reality, and while she never vocalized any disappointment in me, I internalized a heavy sense of failure, feeling as though I had let her down. As the years rolled by, it became increasingly clear to me that the true failure lay not within my abilities but rather within an education system that had not nurtured my potential.
In the tumultuous year 2020, after facing the very real threat of character assassination, I came to a critical realization: I needed to create a fortified space for myself, shielding myself from those who sought to undermine me. This was a turning point, and I decided to enact significant changes in my life, letting go of longstanding barriers that had cascaded down my journey. I set my sights on pursuing a degree that resonated with my true academic aspirations and aligned with my evolving sense of purpose.
Thus began an intense four-year commitment to earning a PhD. Interestingly, it wasn’t the medical degree I had once envisioned in my childhood dreams, but in many ways, it represented something even more impactful and meaningful to me. Today, as I reflect on this transformative journey, I am proud to announce that I have successfully completed my PhD program in Criminal Justice and Criminology. Were she alive today, my mother would likely call me Dr. Leo or perhaps Dr. Gilling or maybe some other affectionate name that only she could dream up. My heart aches with the wish that I could wrap my arms around her, share my joy, and indulge in a celebratory toast together.
Mama, this achievement is dedicated to you. Your unwavering belief in my potential has propelled me forward, and this moment is a tribute to the promise I made all those years ago.
Comments
Post a Comment