For a long time, STEM felt intimidating to me, not because I wasn’t interested, but because I wasn’t sure I belonged. Science textbooks were full of equations and discoveries, but rarely people I could relate to. Somewhere between classrooms, competitive exams, and expectations, STEM began to feel less like curiosity and more like pressure.
I enjoyed learning, yet I often questioned whether I was “good enough” to continue. I didn’t lack effort, I lacked reassurance. And I didn’t realise it then, but what I needed wasn’t just motivation. I needed representation.
The first time STEM felt possible.
STEM began to feel possible to me when I stopped seeing scientists as distant geniuses and started seeing them as real people with curiosity and discipline. Learning about Indian scientists like A. P. J. Abdul Kalam shifted that perspective. What stood out wasn’t just his achievements, but the way he spoke about learning, as something shaped by consistency, effort, and responsibility.
What inspired me most was how openly he engaged with students and treated science as something meant to be shared, not gatekept. He made STEM feel less like an elite space and more like a field built on curiosity and growth. For the first time, it felt like something you didn’t have to be “born exceptional” to belong in, you just had to be willing to learn.
Realising women had always been there.
As a woman, I didn’t realise how rarely I saw women in STEM leadership until I noticed how powerful it felt when I finally did. Learning about Kalpana Chawla was a turning point. Her story from a small Indian town to space, challenged every quiet assumption I had absorbed about what women could or couldn’t do.
She didn’t just inspire me to dream bigger; she made me question why I had ever limited those dreams in the first place.
Later, discovering women like Tessy Thomas, who led complex defense projects in a male-dominated field made something click. These women weren’t exceptions. They were proof that women have always belonged in STEM, even if history didn’t spotlight them enough.
Why representation changes everything.
Inspiring figures don’t just motivate students, they validate them. When you see someone who shares your gender, culture, or background succeed in STEM, it removes a quiet but powerful doubt: Maybe this isn’t for me.
For me, representation replaced self-doubt with curiosity. It shifted my mindset from “Can I survive this field?” to “What can I contribute?” That difference matters. Confidence doesn’t appear out of nowhere; it grows when we see evidence that people like us have done it before.
Indian voices that redefined science for me.
Learning about scientists like C. V. Raman make us realise that groundbreaking research doesn’t only happen in Western labs or behind glossy university walls. It can happen anywhere curiosity is taken seriously. That shift in perspective was empowering, it reframed STEM for me as something global, diverse, and far more accessible than I had imagined.Figures like A. P. J. Abdul Kalam and Vikram Sarabhai remind us that science can be visionary and deeply human at the same time, while women like Soumya Swaminathan, Ritu Karidhal, and Asima Chatterjee quietly challenged the idea of who gets to be seen as a scientist. Their stories made STEM feel less like an elite club and more like a space where curiosity, intention, and lived experience actually matter especially for a generation trying to find purpose, not just success.
How inspiration shapes the future.
Inspiring figures influence more than individual careers; they shape the future of STEM itself. When students from diverse backgrounds enter scientific fields, they bring new perspectives, questions, and priorities. Representation doesn’t dilute excellence, it strengthens it.
For women especially, visible role models help dismantle the idea that science requires emotional detachment or toughness. They show that empathy, sensitivity, and intelligence can coexist and even enhance scientific thinking.
What I carry forward.
Today, STEM still challenges me but it no longer intimidates me in the same way. Knowing that others have walked this path before me, especially Indian scientists and women who defied expectations, makes the journey feel shared rather than lonely.
Inspiring figures taught me that STEM isn’t about fitting a mold. It’s about curiosity, persistence, and believing that your perspective matters.
Why stories matter.
The future of STEM depends not only on technology, but on who feels welcome to build it. Inspiring figures shape that future by making students feel seen.
For me, they transformed doubt into belief. And for countless others, they will do the same, simply by existing, succeeding, and being visible.
If this story reminded you that inspiration often begins with seeing yourself in someone else, I’m grateful you read till the end. And if you ever feel like stepping into the quiet corners of my reflections, you’ll find me at Sharanya Shetty at HCMUJ.
For more such articles, find your way to Her Campus at MUJ — where stories grow alongside the people telling them.