When my job feels impossible — when deadlines crush me, inboxes drown me, and I question why I’m even doing this — I go back to one thing.

The messages from interns. The quiet DMs that say, “Thank you for making space for us,” or “You made me feel like I belonged here.”

I remember being that intern. I remember the ache of invisibility — working hard, staying late, trying to matter. No one saw me then. So now, I make it a point to see them.

Even when I’m exhausted, I show up. I answer questions. I advocate. I open doors. Because someone, somewhere, is watching — wondering if there’s a place for them in this world.

And I want to be the reason they believe the answer is yes.