When I was growing up, I wanted to be President of the United States. I told people—earnestly, confidently, and often. But one person, someone I looked up to, responded in a way I’ll never forget: “You’ll never do that. You’re a woman, and you don’t have the right last name.”
That comment didn’t stop me—but it did shape me. Somewhere deep inside, it drew an invisible line. A subtle but powerful boundary that whispered: some things just aren’t for people like you.
I didn’t realize how much that moment stayed with me until recently, when my youngest daughter lit up while talking about gymnastics. “I want to go to the Olympics one day!” she said with total conviction and joy.
Was it a big dream? Absolutely. But in that moment, I didn’t calculate the odds. I didn’t offer a dose of reality. I just said: “You can do it. That’s awesome. Go for it. I believe in you.”
Because belief begins early. And often, it begins at home.
As a mom, I’ve learned that my words shape my daughters’ inner voices. They are building their dreams right now, and whether they’re chasing the Olympics, launching a business, or leading in their own way one day, I will never be the one to draw the line.
The world will try to dim their ambition soon enough. It will question their qualifications, challenge their confidence, and at times, try to convince them they’re too much or not enough. I won’t add to that noise. I’ll be the voice that reminds them they are capable, worthy, and powerful—even when they’re afraid or fall short.
Because dreaming big is about more than outcomes—it’s about who you become along the way.
I see it in my daughters already. When they want something badly, they work for it. They don’t always win. But they learn, grow, and show up again. That’s the grit I want to nurture. Not perfect kids, but brave ones.
And no, I didn’t become President of the United States. But I did become the president of my college student body. Today, I lead one of Florida’s most impactful nonprofit organizations as CEO. I’ve pushed myself to take on roles that scared me, inspired me, and forced me to grow. I’ve built a life of purpose—and that’s a dream worth chasing.
So now, when my girls dream big—and they will—I won’t ask, “What are the odds?”
I’ll say: “I believe in you. Keep going.”
Because that’s how we raise the next generation of leaders:
By refusing to hand them the limitations we were given.
By erasing the invisible line.
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