For My Mentor

It’s hard to ask for help
when the room already doubts
you belong in it.

In this field
where being her
often means being alone,
you didn’t shrink my voice.
You handed me a blueprint
and said let's build.

No tests,
no sideways glances,
no need to prove
I deserved to be here.

Just space—
real space—
to ask,
to try,
to fail,
to rise again.

You didn’t flinch
when I showed up broken,
uncertain, curious,
too much and not enough
all at once.

You gave me more
than advice
or answers—

you gave me
the rare gift
of being taken seriously.

Thank you
for never needing
to shrink me
to feel strong.

For teaching
without guarding the gate.

For seeing me,
and staying.

You stood beside me—
not over me,
a quiet nod
that said you belong here,
before I believed it.

And that changed
everything.