Curiosity almost cost me my PhD
Every new article, every unexpected finding, every what if … felt too exciting to leave unexplored. I told myself this was what good researchers did – that following ideas wherever they led was part of the process. But really I was avoiding the hardest part: finishing.

Towards the end of my PhD, I reached a point where I just wanted to get the darn thing written and submitted – to get it done and move on with the next stage of my life.
So I made a plan to get on track. I left my two under-fives with my husband for the weekend and drove back to my hometown in Pembrokeshire in West Wales to stay at my parents’ house and write. No distractions, no excuses – just time to focus.
For a few days, I sat at my laptop from morning till night, moving only for cups of tea and the occasional stretch. I was determined to make progress. But after a while, my body and brain were clearly struggling.
At one point I walked into town for a break, and an old school friend spotted me.
“Lizzy, you look like death warmed up.”
Thanks, Alth.
That moment stayed with me. I was doing what I thought I should be doing. I was pushing through, chasing every loose end – but it wasn’t working. I was tired, unfocused, and knee-deep in ideas that didn’t belong in the final thesis.

I didn’t need to explore everything. I needed to graduate.
Curiosity had got me this far, but it was quietly sabotaging me near the end. I needed to shift from exploration to completion – from discovery to delivery.
Asking myself the hard questions
Instead of asking:
What else could I do?
I started asking:
What do I need to do to submit?
I began to question my decisions more deliberately:
- Does this idea strengthen my main argument, or is it one for later?
- Am I adding this because it’s essential, or because I’m worried it’s not enough?
- If I only had six months left, what would I prioritise?
These questions helped me draw a line between curiosity and completion. They didn’t silence my curiosity – they parked it somewhere safe until I had the energy to explore it again.
Something that helps me: the “for later” folder
That’s when I started my “For Later” folder.

Every time I came across a shiny new idea or a tempting tangent, I dropped it straight in there. That way I wasn’t ignoring my curiosity but I was giving it a place to live while not allowing it to distract me.
It sounds simple, but it worked. I stopped derailing my progress and started trusting that those ideas would still be there when I needed them.
And they were. I still have that folder now, and I still use it on every new project – whether it’s an article, a workshop, or a piece of research. It keeps me focused without shutting down my curiosity.
Focus gives your curiosity direction
Finishing a PhD isn’t about knowing everything or exploring every possible angle. It’s about shaping what you do know into something coherent and complete. Something you can stand behind.
Focus is what allows curiosity to become something real and shareable.
Rather than closing doors when you decide to finish, you’re choosing which doors to walk through first. The rest will still be there when you’re ready (and you can make the unanswered questions your next project, whether that’s in academia or not).
If you’re nearing the end of your PhD and every idea feels like it might be the one that changes everything, remember this: you can always come back to it. You can write the next paper, or even the next project, once you’ve graduated.
For now, your job is to get it done.
And if it helps, make yourself a little “For Later” folder. It’s one of the simplest, most powerful tools I’ve ever used – and it’s saved every project since.
