I spent years uncovering ancient lives. The most important discovery was myself.

Hi, I’m Alexandra, a freelance archaeologist, professional mentor, and entrepreneur based in Vienna, originally from Romania.

I spent nearly 20 years in academia, none of them with a permanent position.

My journey began in post-communist Eastern Europe, shaped by both hope and hardship. I never dreamed of becoming an archaeologist; it just happened during a practice excavation that changed everything. Discovering something buried for hundreds or thousands of years, with my own hands, gave me a kind of satisfaction I hadn’t found anywhere else. That was the moment I knew: this is what I want to do.

Archaeology gave me a voice when I had none. It gave me space to exist as I was, something I didn't even realise I needed.

But academia… well, it took more than it gave. Constant precarity. Underpayment. Overqualification. Invisible labour. In 2021, after years of international projects, I found myself unemployed and sick. It took numerous years and a burnout to finally be diagnosed with an autoimmune illness: a physical manifestation of years of stress, silence, and suppression.

When I applied for non-academic jobs, I was told to delete my PhD and cut my CV to one page. It crushed me. So I broke myself apart, piece by piece, and started over.

Today, I mentor researchers and professionals in transition. I’m also co-founding a platform to offer archaeologists what is long due: a supportive community. I speak openly about what we don’t talk about enough: burnout, abuse of power, ghosting, impostor syndrome, identity loss, and grief.

Some lessons I learned on the way out:
• Grief is not just emotional — it's physical. My body kept score of every rejection and betrayal. Don’t wait for illness to tell you to stop.
• Your background shapes your access. Coming from an underprivileged and underrepresented place, I had to work twice as hard to be seen. Academia still privileges certain voices. Let’s not pretend it doesn’t.
• Let yourself fall apart. Rebuilding starts there. For me, the collapse became a gateway to a new purpose — and eventually, healing.
• If no one hires you, hire yourself. I created my own job, and though it’s challenging and still uncertain, finally it’s mine.
• There’s power in naming what hurts. When we speak the hard truths, others feel less alone. That’s why I mentor others now — so fewer of us suffer in silence.
• You can still be what you love. I’m no longer in academia, but I’m still an archaeologist. I just switched from uncovering the past to supporting the people behind it.

If this resonates, don’t hesitate to reach out.

Leaving was painful. But staying would have cost me everything.