The Art Of Resilience Ft. Saniyah Wajahat

This conversation is a quiet, powerful reminder that even the most put-together people carry weight you cannot see. I sit down with Dr. Saniyah Wajahat, a dermatologist and aesthetic physician who runs her own clinic in Islamabad. She is warm, driven, and someone who has built a career around making others feel beautiful. But today she also lets us into a chapter of her life that broke her open, and she shares how she is learning to put the pieces back together with faith and a fierce will to keep moving.

A reluctant doctor finds her calling

Saniyah never planned on becoming a doctor. Growing up in a family full of them, she saw the hectic lifestyle and felt squeamish around pain. She was a self-described nerd who loved art, and her dream was to become a genetic engineer and find a cure for cancer. But a last-minute decision to take an entry test for medical school changed everything. “I decided okay, you know fine, I’ll choose MBBS as a field,” she tells me. Even after completing her degree, she was still unsure about her path. It was during her house job, while rotating through pediatrics, that reality hit hard. She was exhausted, gaining weight, and crying after overnight calls because she could not bear the sadness of seeing sick children. She knew she needed a different kind of life: one that allowed her to have a life outside of work too.

The flexibility of dermatology and the courage to start her own clinic

Her father-in-law suggested she choose a field where she could be her own boss and control her hours. That idea stuck. Dermatology offered that flexibility, but aesthetic medicine truly captured her heart. “I like making things pretty, and I have a very aesthetic sense,” she says. “Everybody’s pretty, but you know you should try to look your best.” She trained abroad, collecting courses in England, America, Egypt, and Dubai because there was no formal aesthetic training in Pakistan. But even with all that knowledge, she lacked the courage to start her own clinic. A mentor finally pushed her: “beta, what are you waiting for? Just do it. Take that leap of faith in yourself.” So she did. She opened her clinic about a year and a half ago, and she loves the feeling of self-achievement. But running a business means more than just seeing patients. “Half my time is consumed by just the management of it all,” she admits, from dealing with plaza issues to staff problems. Still, being her own boss is an empowering feeling she would not trade.

Surviving COVID with a new business

The pandemic tested her resilience early on. Saniyah closed her clinic for seven months during the first wave. Many patients stayed home, and those who did come needed treatments where masks could not be worn. Business suffered. But she used the time to rely on her trained staff and observed procedures remotely when possible. The second wave felt more manageable as everyone adapted to the new normal. She took strict precautions, and slowly things picked up again. Her clinic survived because she was willing to adapt, a lesson in itself.

When life stops making sense

Then came a loss she never saw coming. Last year, Saniyah was pregnant. She had planned everything, her career was set, and she was just weeks from her due date. In the eighth month, something went wrong, and she knew her baby would not make it. “This was just something so unexpected,” she says quietly. “I had to deliver my baby and he didn’t make it, and then we had to bury him.” She was surrounded by family and had the best medical care possible, but that did not stop the grief. What got her through the initial shock was work. Just days after coming home from the hospital, she told her family she wanted to go to the clinic. Nobody there knew what had happened, and that anonymity let her step away from the suffocating sadness at home. “Coming to work does make it a lot better,” she shares. “It’s a distraction from your own reality.” But she also admits her body was not okay. She had just given birth. Eventually she took the rest she needed, the break her body demanded. Still, the habit of showing up, of having somewhere to be and people to care for, kept her from drowning in the grief.

Faith, work, and the strength to show up

Saniyah credits her faith with carrying her through. “The only thing that got me through this was faith in Allah,” she says. She holds onto the belief that if Allah had wanted, she would have miscarried early. Instead, she carried her baby almost to the very end, and that gives her comfort. You plan as much as you can, but at the end of the day you cannot lose faith. It is that faith that helps her get up every morning and put on a brave face, not as a performance, but as an act of survival. She also believes deeply that having her own work played a crucial role. Her husband was the one who pushed her to believe in herself, and having her clinic gave her an identity beyond the walls of home and loss. “I think it’s really important to have your own thing outside of home as well, because sometimes you need an escape from your own life,” she explains. That escape does not mean you forget. It means you survive.

A little skincare wisdom

Amid all this, Saniyah also shares small, practical things that matter. I laugh because I used to be the person who never wore sunblock until she gently checked my skin. Now sunblock is the first thing I put on my face. Her number one tip? Wear sunscreen daily. It is the simplest way to fight aging, and years from now you will be grateful. She also clears up a common myth: taking medicine for acne will not mess up your fertility or cause long-term harm. Treating acne early is far easier than dealing with the scars later. And as a doctor, she emphasizes kindness. “You need to be very kind with your patient,” she says, and I have felt that gentleness myself. It matters more than any cream or procedure.

Why this conversation stays with me

I have known Saniyah for a while, but I had no idea what she was carrying until this conversation. She showed up with grace, worked hard, and smiled through it all. Her story is not about toxic positivity. It is about raw, real resilience. About choosing to get up, even when life does not stop for your grief. For any woman who is building a career while managing a household, or walking through a loss that feels unspeakable, I hope Saniyah’s words feel like a soft landing. You are not alone, and you do not have to be perfect to keep going.