Dr Theodora Banigo Ekwevugbe
Medical Practioner
About Me
I always had the fear of not being present for my children, of not being there. Working in the medical profession as a doctor, there are not many specialties or fields that allow you the freedom or opportunity to be fully present — to have time available during the formative years of your children.
Even when I could find moments to be present, it often came at a cost. I had to take annual leave or sacrifice pay to lessen my workload just to be there with my children. Yet I could never seem to form a career where I could do as much work as I wanted, the kind of work I loved, while also giving my full presence — both physical and mental — to my children and family, and building the kind of home I desired.
It always felt like I had to choose one or the other. And even in the moments when I was with my family, there was this lurking anxiety in the background — the fear of being removed again, of becoming unavailable. I could clearly see what I was missing, the dangers, the risks of not being there the way I wanted to — to supervise, to watch, to simply be a watchman.
But then I moved to Canada. And for the first time in my life, I can be home from the office at 4 p.m. I have flexible days. I can take breaks whenever I choose, adjust appointment lengths according to my needs or the patient’s. There’s so much flexibility and freedom — to truly thrive at home in my personal life, to strengthen my foundation, and then build work on top of that.
To feel the satisfaction of peace — knowing I’m not neglecting my core self, my values, or my family, not sacrificing them on the table of work. Instead, what I do now flows as an overflow from wholeness and emotional wellness at home.
And yet, even after the first few weeks and months in Canada, I noticed there was still a quiet fear lingering — the fear that this could someday end. It felt too good to be true. I couldn’t quite accept that this could be my new life, that I could plan my future around this rhythm, this freedom.
But then one day, it clicked. I realized — you’re here.
You’ve arrived at the place your heart has longed for.
You can relax now. You can unfold. You can build.
You have settled. You are here.
Even when I could find moments to be present, it often came at a cost. I had to take annual leave or sacrifice pay to lessen my workload just to be there with my children. Yet I could never seem to form a career where I could do as much work as I wanted, the kind of work I loved, while also giving my full presence — both physical and mental — to my children and family, and building the kind of home I desired.
It always felt like I had to choose one or the other. And even in the moments when I was with my family, there was this lurking anxiety in the background — the fear of being removed again, of becoming unavailable. I could clearly see what I was missing, the dangers, the risks of not being there the way I wanted to — to supervise, to watch, to simply be a watchman.
But then I moved to Canada. And for the first time in my life, I can be home from the office at 4 p.m. I have flexible days. I can take breaks whenever I choose, adjust appointment lengths according to my needs or the patient’s. There’s so much flexibility and freedom — to truly thrive at home in my personal life, to strengthen my foundation, and then build work on top of that.
To feel the satisfaction of peace — knowing I’m not neglecting my core self, my values, or my family, not sacrificing them on the table of work. Instead, what I do now flows as an overflow from wholeness and emotional wellness at home.
And yet, even after the first few weeks and months in Canada, I noticed there was still a quiet fear lingering — the fear that this could someday end. It felt too good to be true. I couldn’t quite accept that this could be my new life, that I could plan my future around this rhythm, this freedom.
But then one day, it clicked. I realized — you’re here.
You’ve arrived at the place your heart has longed for.
You can relax now. You can unfold. You can build.
You have settled. You are here.