Dr. Melynda Barnes — From surgeon to the C-Suite

Melynda Barnes left a coveted career in plastic surgery to take a chance on a health tech startup. Today Melynda is the Chief Medical Officer at Ro, a “unicorn” startup valued at $5B – but that success wasn’t always certain. Melynda and I talk about the concern from friends and family, the pressure of being a role model for black female surgeons, and despite all that, why Melynda knew she had to pivot.

Q&A

You were a successful plastic surgeon before you pivoted to work for Ro, a health technology startup. What motivated you to pivot away from an enviable career as a surgeon?

I've always been a problem solver. I love figuring out how to fix things or make things better. And I’ve always been curious. I look at things and ask, well, what about this? The way that my brain works has been really useful for a career in medicine, doing work like research or identifying what is wrong with a patient. But when I asked questions in my career like – Why is my clinic run this way? Why can’t we have patients arrive at this time? Why can’t we use text to confirm appointments with patients the night before? – that was not very well received, because the operations of how we deliver healthcare in our country is usually managed by non-physicians. The general response was that I was a doctor and I should not focus on those questions. 

Throughout medical school, I knew I wanted to do more than practice clinical medicine throughout my career. There was so much stuff that got my brain thinking – ways that we could optimize healthcare delivery, or how physicians are treated in medicine. I didn’t know exactly what the outlet would be, but I knew it would be released.

For me the pivot started when I got a spot on the Yale Medical Group Board of Directors, the governing body for Yale medicine. It really opened my eyes to the entire spectrum of how  healthcare works. And I got to see the interactions between physician leaders and non-physician leaders. And I could see that initiatives were strong when there was collaboration between the two groups with input from practicing physicians. One day when I was leaving a board meeting, I realized that I enjoyed the Board of Directors work as much as – or even more than – seeing patients in my office. I had so many ideas for improving processes. I thought, I think this is what I want to do. 

I made the decision to leave and join a private practice that was well known as the largest ENT (ear, nose, throat) practice in the country. They were known for their efficiency and operational excellence and I wanted to see what it was like in a high functioning private practice. I really learned a lot about how to run a business. But in the course of my time there, I did more soul searching and decided that I wanted to be a connector between medicine and business. I love innovation. I love entrepreneurship. I love the idea that there are small companies tackling big problems, saying we’re going to find a way to do things differently or better. That really spoke to me. 

Once you knew where you wanted to go, you made a bold move. You fully resigned from your job as a surgeon. How did you get the confidence to resign?

It was really, really hard and scary to submit that resignation letter. I didn't have a job lined up. People around me were thinking and saying, you’re crazy, why are you doing this? I hated feeling like I had to explain myself. But I realized a simple truth – no one has to wake up and be me everyday except for me. 

In my gut, in my soul, I knew what I was doing was not my purpose. It was a great job and I was helping people, but I felt I had another calling. I wanted to help people on a huge scale, instead of caring for people one-on-one. I resigned and took the summer off to investigate what to do next. 

I had job openings hitting my inbox from recruiters. One day another regular job listing came through, but when I read their mission I thought, this is it exactly. This is what I’m looking for. Ro was a company looking to change the entire way that physicians practice medicine and the way that physicians and patients interact. They wanted to approach healthcare in a fresh way and to fix something that was broken. Rounds of interviews later and I started the new job.

Today at work I feel like my soul and my purpose are in alignment. I’m actually doing what I was supposed to do. And I have no regrets about the path that I took to get here. I wouldn’t be as effective at Ro if I didn’t have years of experience taking care of patients and I didn’t practice within the dysfunctional healthcare system for so long. 

What emotions did you feel when you resigned? And what emotions did you feel once you found your new role at Ro?

To be honest, when I resigned I felt relieved. It was kind of like being in a bad relationship – when you break up there is a horrible pain, but the next day you wake up and you know it was the right thing. When I resigned, I felt free to explore what the best career looked like for me. 

But I also felt guilty. Being a facial plastic surgeon is an ideal career that a lot of people aspire to have. I felt guilty walking away from a career that so many people are fighting for. And in ways I felt selfish. My patients came to me to get better and people wanted me to be their doctor. Did I owe it to them to continue?  

And then there was fear. Fear for my reputation – how my colleagues would view me, whether people would think I was a failure and that’s why I was leaving. And then the fear of the unknown. What’s out there? What if I leave and I don’t like what’s on the other side?

It was very hard.

But the day after I submitted my resignation letter, I woke up and felt like I could take a deep breath. The hope and anticipation started right away. I was excited to think, Where am I going? What’s out there for me? What are my career choices?

Many women feel shame or guilt when pivoting away from a successful career. There’s a narrative that women owe it to past or future generations to continue climbing the ladder and breaking the glass ceiling, at any cost. How did you get over that guilt?

There are not a lot of women of color who are surgeons. So I do see myself as a role model and feel that I have a “pay it forward” obligation, which I’m happy to do. I know how much mentorship helped me get to where I am. I’m constantly mentoring and I want to help others achieve their dreams. 

A lot of the guilt was put on me by other people. I had people say, Melynda, how can you leave? Everywhere you walk in this hospital, you’re a role model. I think that hurt me the most. Because growing up I did not have a lot of female role models. I was lucky to find men of color, but not many women. And there is a kindred connection for women of color who say, you look like me. The most painful part was the fear that I was potentially letting them down. 

There was an assumption that in leaving my role as a surgeon, I could no longer be a role model. But I am still helping others. Whatever role I’m in, I am committed to mentorship. I can still teach medical students and residents about  ENT and facial plastics. But now, I can also teach them about healthcare delivery, innovation and how physicians can be empowered in their career. 

I’m so inspired by you reframing the narrative from, “what am I leaving behind?” to “what bigger impact can I have now?” And still, that’s not even the point! Every woman has the right to pursue a career that is right for her, not anyone else. Women are trained to care and consider for others – we’ve got to make decisions for ourselves too.  Thank you, Melynda, for sharing your story!

You can learn more about Melynda and how Ro is building the future of healthcare here. 

*Q&A has been edited for brevity and clarity.