I must admit that the thought of a career in medicine was counterintuitive and downright intimidating to me when I was an undergraduate. My family is comprised of artists, teachers, stay-at-home moms, and designers—but not one physician or scientist. There were days I told myself it would be easier to abandon the dream. But over 20 years later, I now see how my background in writing, art, and psychology helped influence the type of physician I would later become. I also am now able to appreciate (rather than regret) the two years I took off between my undergraduate degrees and medical school. I was unable to commit to the field of medicine, mostly because I was insecure in my ability to succeed. However, deep down I wondered whether I was just wasting time. It is now clear to me that the growth and maturity I gained in those 2 years were monumentally important to my success (and happiness) when I finally entered medical school. The first lecture in medical school convinced me that I had made the absolutely right decision. It was a lecture about what it means to be a physician—what an honor it is to be invited into the lives of the sick; to intimately know them, have their trust, and have an opportunity in some way to heal them. Not only through cures and treatments, but through deep connections, compassion and empathy. It was then that I understood what a unique privilege it is to be a physician. And I have never regretted choosing this vocation.