If there’s one thing my career has taught me, it’s this: Success is never a solo act. No matter how driven, organized or caffeinated you are, you don’t get very far without someone cracking open a door, pulling up a chair or giving you that look that says, “You’ve got this — now go do it.”
I’ve been lucky enough to have a lineup of mentors who’ve done exactly that. Yes, a few great men showed up along the way — offering guidance, perspective and the occasional reality check — and I truly appreciate every single one of them. But the heartbeat of my journey has been women. Women who get it. Women who don’t just talk about breaking glass ceilings but hand you a hammer and say, “Swing.”
There’s something powerful about being mentored by someone who understands the unspoken parts of your experience. The balancing act. The second-guessing. The pressure to be likable and assertive, polished and authentic. My female mentors didn’t just teach me how to do the job — they taught me how to navigate the spaces around it.
One taught me that confidence isn’t something you wait to feel — it’s something you decide to project. Another showed me that saying “no” is a complete sentence (and no, you don’t owe anyone a paragraph of justification). And one unforgettable mentor had a signature move: When I doubted myself, she’d raise an eyebrow and say, “Interesting. I don’t see anyone more qualified — do you?” Spoiler: I never did.
I’ve made big career changes along the way and I never could have done that without mentors. The first thing I’ve always done is look to find the person who knows their stuff. Ten years ago, when I needed a more flexible job to help my mom, and I was finally ready to admit I wanted to be a writer, I looked to the smartest person I knew in the field and reached out to Lisa Nellessen Savage, executive editor at the Pensacola News Journal and Bella. She taught me journalism and guided me along by journey of becoming editor of, and eventually owning, Bella.
What sets all of these women apart isn’t just their success — it’s their generosity. They didn’t hoard knowledge or guard opportunities. They shared, introduced, advocated. They understood that lifting another woman up doesn’t lower their own standing — it raises the standard for all of us. And there is room for all of us.
And here’s the twist: Mentorship isn’t a one-way street. Somewhere along the line, you realize you’ve become the person someone else is quietly learning from. It’s both thrilling and slightly terrifying. But that’s also the point — the ripple effect. The unspoken agreement that we don’t climb alone — and we don’t let others climb alone either.
So here’s to the mentors — the bold, the honest, the occasionally blunt but always brilliant women who shape us. They are the reason we walk into rooms a little taller, speak a little louder and reach a little higher.
— Kelly MacLeod
