Marci M Torres

A willingness to try things that interest me and a very short memory for embarrassment. I ask a lot of questions, borderline annoying amounts, and I've made peace with the fact that 'I have no idea' is a perfectly valid starting point. I've failed more times than I'd like to admit, but failure just means you're in the game, not watching from the bleachers. I stay optimistic, which is really just stubbornness with good PR. I take chances, lean on good people, put myself out there, and when I'm terrified, I remind myself that the very impressive person I'm talking to probably is just as worried about what might be in their teeth as I am. We're all just people fumbling through. Some of us have just stopped pretending otherwise. I don't need my name on everything, and I've learned that being kind is never the wrong move. Gratitude and perspective keep me grounded, and honestly, so does leaving work at a reasonable hour. We should all stay humble enough to keep learning, and to know when to pivot and when to dig in, and to never take anything too seriously, life's too short for that. Never be the smartest person in the room and LISTEN before you SPEAK.

The best career advice I ever received came when I became a Director. Someone told me, 'When a person isn't performing, don't lead with judgment. Lead with curiosity. Ask what's going on before you assume you know.' It sounds obvious, but it changed everything for me. Life happens to people: illness, grief, stress at home, things they'll never put on a calendar. Before you decide someone isn't cutting it, check in. Give grace first. You might be the only person who bothered to ask

Somewhere along the way, I stopped asking 'What do I want to achieve?' and started asking 'Do I like who I am at the end of the day?' That's a completely different question. I don't want to be defined by my job. I've watched too many people tie their entire identity to a title and then not know who they are without it. I want work that fulfills me that I actually want to do, not work I've convinced myself I should want. I want balance that's real, not just something I talk about while answering emails at 10 pm. And I want to look in the mirror and recognize the person looking back.

I also don't believe in legacies—at least not the way people talk about them. You come in, you do your work, you give it everything you've got. And then you leave, and someone else comes in and changes things to fit how they see it. That's not a tragedy. That's just how it works. What you built might get dismantled. The programs you championed might disappear. And that has to be okay. The point isn't to leave something permanent—it's to do good work while you're there, help the people you can, and know that it served its purpose for that moment in time. Then you let it go and let someone else have their turn. No false ideas about forever. Just the quiet satisfaction of knowing you showed up, you gave it what you had, and it mattered while it lasted. That's enough. That's actually everything.

I've lost count of how many times I've been in a room and had a man explain something to me that I knew more about than he did. Or been talked over. Or said something only to hear a man repeat it moments later and get the credit. It messes with you if you let it. You start questioning yourself—not because you're wrong, but because you've been trained to wonder if maybe you are. Here's what I've learned: hold on to what you know. Your expertise isn't up for debate just because someone else has more confidence than credentials. Trust yourself. You've earned that.

And for the women juggling careers and kids and being told—directly or sideways—that you should feel guilty for not being home more: don't. What I want my children to see is a mother who pursued what mattered to her and didn't apologize for it. I want them to know that women get to have ambition, that capability isn't gendered, and that you don't have to choose between being a good parent and being a whole person. We get to want both. And at the end of the day, what matters most is that I like who I am—not that I lived up to someone else's idea of what I should be

Somewhere along the way I stopped asking 'What do I want to achieve?' and started asking 'Do I like who I am at the end of the day?' That's a completely different question. I don't want to be defined by my job. I've watched too many people tie their entire identity to a title and then not know who they are without it. I want work that fulfills me, that I actually want to do, not work I've convinced myself I should want. I want balance that's real, not just something I talk about while answering emails at 10 pm. And I want to look in the mirror and recognize the person looking back.

I also don't believe in legacies, at least not the way people talk about them. You come in, you do your work, you give it everything you've got. And then you leave, and someone else comes in and changes things to fit how they see it. That's not a tragedy. That's just how it works. What you built might get dismantled. The programs you championed might disappear. And that has to be okay. The point isn't to leave something permanent; it's to do good work while you're there, help the people you can, and know that it served its purpose for that moment in time. Then you let it go and let someone else have their turn. No false ideas about forever. Just the quiet satisfaction of knowing you showed up, you gave it what you had, and it mattered while it lasted. That's enough. That's actually everything.