TikTok’s hottest drama? Crying doctors and crushed dreams

NEW YORK – Dr Ecem Saritas stood in Central Park in Manhattan with her fiance, waiting on e-mails that would determine the course of their lives – or at least their next few years.

She clutched a pink iPad and refreshed her inbox. A nearby camera captured the pair’s reaction when the e-mails arrived. It was good news: Both had matched into residency programmes, the next step in their journey as doctors.

She posted the video on TikTok. In it, she jumps up and down, squealing with joy as the two hug.

Dr Saritas, 27, is one of tens of thousands of medical school students and graduates who will find out in March if they matched into residencies, the post-graduate training programmes in the United States where doctors learn to specialise in a type of medicine, such as dermatology or orthopaedic surgery.

The National Resident Matching Program uses an algorithm to determine where applicants are placed, based on their preferences and those of the residency programmes.

Navigating the process can be arduous and hypercompetitive. Many residency hopefuls, like Dr Saritas, have taken to posting about the experience on social media, documenting the ins and outs of vying for spots and, for the lucky ones, achieving desired placements.

The videos are popular on platforms like TikTok and Instagram, where users seem to delight in celebrating the successes of people they have never met and most likely never will.

Ms Preeya Shah, 26, says she gets excited each year when Match Week rolls around on her TikTok feed, a lingering fondness from when her friends were going through the process.

Think of it like a reality TV show, but instead of a cash prize and bragging rights, competitors are playing for the chance to reach a goal many years in the making.

If the genre feels similar to anything, it may be a higher-stakes Bama Rush, the social media trend fuelled by young women contending for spots in sororities at the University of Alabama. Their posts have become the subject of much attention – and parasocial voyeurism – in recent years.

Ms Shah, a business consultant for a healthcare company who lives in Manhattan, said: “I’m not normally one to cry over strangers on the internet, but there’s something about seeing someone achieve their lifelong dream.”

Dr Saritas said that while she was chiefly focused on matching into a programme, she had been looking forward to recording the moment to share with family and friends, as well as strangers online.

On March 20, she and her fiance were set to learn which residency programmes they would be joining. Many future residents also film videos from those events, dramatically unsealing envelopes and announcing their future workplace, often surrounded by loved ones. There is usually no shortage of tears.

Dr Sijia Zhang, a 27-year-old psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Francisco, likened that experience to the Sorting Hat, a magic chapeau in the Harry Potter books and movies that determines the house placement of each young wizard at Hogwarts school.

It is a highly emotional moment, she said. As a medical student, she watched her fair share of match videos, dreaming of her own “fairy-tale ending”.

Reality, she said, can be a lot messier.

Not everyone matches with a top-choice programme, or ends up matching with a programme at all, she explained. Euphoric social media videos can leave those disappointed in their own outcomes feeling isolated and alone, she added.

“It is easier for students to share a happy video, an exciting video, rather than a video where they’re not receiving the best news,” she said. “That can feel very embarrassing and vulnerable to put out on the internet.”

Dr Tawfiq Turjman, 24, who lives in Barrow-in-Furness, England, understands those feelings well.

In 2025, he filmed himself opening an e-mail – only to learn he had not matched. He posted that video, and then several more that showed viewers the mad scramble that happens in the frantic days after not matching.

While some are able to find residencies this way, he ultimately did not.

He reapplied in 2026. On March 16, he set up his camera, just as he had a year ago. This time, things went the way he had hoped.

The response online has been heartwarming, he said.

“A lot of people who remembered my reaction to my unsuccessful attempt last year, this year, they were very happy to see me make it,” he said. NYTIMES