So I Dropped Out of My Master's Program

Just like committing suicide at 18 sounds like adolescent angst lit, and doing so at 28 sounds like failing to adapt to society, compared to many tech CEOs in history who knew early on what they wanted to do and dropped out of their bachelor’s degrees, dropping out of a master’s program doesn’t sound at all like a grand, rebellious move before success. Still, I’m quietly announcing in some corner of the world: I dropped out of my master’s program.

It’s been a month since I decided to drop out of my master’s. The helplessness and confusion I felt back then have gradually faded away, and I feel I can now analyze more comprehensively why I made that decision at the time.

Post-Employment Mindset Shift

In 2023, I studied at the University of Adelaide for a year through an exchange program with National Taiwan University . I fell completely in love with the city and its people. Back then, I also took time to travel to various cities across Australia. Although Melbourne wasn’t my favorite city (my favorite was Perth, followed by Adelaide), because the University of Melbourne has the best QS ranking among Australian universities, and knowing how HR works in Taiwan, I decided my target school would be the University of Melbourne.

Graduating with a CS degree from NTU, coupled with having no research publications, my only options at the University of Melbourne were coursework-based CS, IT, or SWE. No matter who I asked about admission info for these three majors, I was only told they are very popular and you need good enough grades to get admitted. The only difference is that CS is the most theoretical, while IT is the most practical.

When I applied in 2024, I was a heartbroken bachelor’s grad who had been thoroughly beaten down by NTU. My attitude toward a master’s degree was just to get a good name on my resume. Not wanting to dive deeper into theory, I chose IT. Due to personal financial considerations, I decided to work for a year and a half first, planning to enroll in the summer of 2026.

After actually working for over a year, and observing artificial intelligence trends during this time, I started to regret, even before enrolling in 2026, that the program I chose wasn’t more related to theory. However, at the time, I convinced myself to just go to Australia first with excuses like, “I can find a professor once I’m there,” or “I’ll just walk in and look for applied AI engineering jobs.”

Disappearance of Expected Benefits

The reasons that convinced me to go to Australia first were basically:

1. The famous work-life balance environment
2. A salary twice as high as what I made in Taiwan
3. Good weather
4. I could leave my old company

Although I say leaving my old company, I actually signed a remote support contract just to earn living expenses. But at least for my first week in Melbourne, I was very happy not having to go into an office. However, Melbourne quickly served me a harsh reality check: it rained for several days in a row, with rainfall rivaling that of Taipei.

Then school started.

I was living in Melbourne with a Taiwanese-Korean couple who had lived in Australia for over ten years. We’d briefly bump into each other after classes every day and casually swap stories about Australian life. Then I discovered that the “work-life balance” everyone was chasing was just a nine-to-five job and going out occasionally on weekends.

To the 23-year-old me who was so eager to return to Australia, and the 25-year-old me bearing financial pressure, this really felt like the biggest scam. It turned out what everyone was pursuing was exactly the lifestyle I’d had for the past year and a half. Even with my income back then, I could afford to eat without looking at price tags and travel abroad four times a year.

I thought finding more opportunities to connect locally would definitely make things different, and that was the reason that kept me going.

Fortunately, three months before arriving, I updated my SEEK and LinkedIn profiles, and sent emails to several professors (including course coordinators or teachers for different subjects) asking about RA (Research Assistant) opportunities. During this time, I received a few interview invites or emails for further discussions.

I must say, Australian salaries are indeed incredibly tempting. The average annual package of the jobs that reached out to me was over 3 million NTD, but it was basically a benefit I could see but not touch. Even if I had great initial chats with recruiters, the moment visa issues came up—whether for casual or part-time work—no one wanted to hire someone on a student visa. In fact, many people online have mentioned that currently, Australian companies just prefer to hire citizens or PR holders.

After the semester started, I got in touch with a few professors. In class, they said we could send them our CVs and that there were some RA opportunities, but judging by the results, I think they were just being polite. They simply couldn’t have extra resources for coursework students, because professors prioritize funding research students.

If things were only like this for one semester, it might have been fine. But under visa restrictions, financial pressure, and time constraints, I completely dared not hope that some professor would suddenly be willing to hire a coursework student as an RA, or that some company would be willing to accept me on a student visa.

Right about then, the thought of giving up my master’s degree in Australia began to emerge.

Unexpected Downsides Surface

The unexpected downsides mainly revolved around the shattering of my illusions about the University of Melbourne.

First was the application process at the University of Melbourne. Submitting academic transcripts and English test scores was pretty much it. This initially made me very anxious; I wondered how this could prove I was qualified to enter the program. After actually getting an offer, I got curious about what kind of people received scholarships, so I looked it up online. I discovered that the University of Melbourne really only looks at your school GPA, without considering the international ranking of the university where the applicant got their bachelor’s degree.

In other words, regardless of what kind of school you come from in Taiwan, whoever has a better GPA ranking is more likely to get a scholarship. This might be phenomenal news for some, but for me, it was a bit disappointing.

Focusing solely on GPA also means they broadly accept people from all over the world who have good grades and can afford the tuition. This makes it feel like the students’ abilities are all over the place. The only thing you can be sure of is that most students belong to the top tier of socioeconomic status globally, and a vast majority come from specific countries.

Regarding that particular country, I already had some insight from studying in Adelaide. They would use real-time translation systems during class, English proficiency test cheating was a frequent occurrence, and they could find your contact info through various means—via email, WhatsApp, or phone numbers—to send you messages offering ghostwriting services for assignments or exams.

Since IT was naturally one of the top major choices for immigration out of the gate, I somewhat expected this phenomenon. But after actually being in the thick of it, I began to doubt the decision I had made:

“Did I really pay the University of Melbourne two million NTD just for this degree?”

“Am I really going to exhaust myself earning a living while studying, just to sit in the same classroom with these people?”

On one hand, I was thinking about giving up on the degree; on the other hand, I felt it would be a shame to drop out after working so hard to get accepted.

“What is it that I am truly pursuing?” This thought popped into my head.

This wasn’t a question I could figure out while burning through my savings in Australia. Conveniently, it was close to the time I had already bought a ticket home to see TWICE’s first concert in Taipei. It felt as if everything was prearranged by God. In the third week of my semester, I decided to drop out.