I was lost deeply in my own thoughts, standing near the back of the crowd, the cacophony of voices feeling overtly loud without the sound of music over the speakers. My high school graduation had been just 3 weeks earlier, and I was still reeling from the disorienting experience of society finally deciding I was worth my own freedom. I felt heavily unprepared for the world I was stepping into, dreading the idea of returning to school. Young and deeply lost, I threw into a new experience: my first music festival.

Completely immersed in my head, I jumped when a heavy-set middle-aged Latino man walked up to me. I thought he was a festival worker asking if I was okay. But when I waved him off, he laughed, explaining that he was here alone after spending the day as a doctor in the medical tent, and asked if he could stand here.

I have no recollection of how I found myself in conversation with this man about my college worries, my resistance to go, my disoriented attitude, but he told me his story as well. His wife had just reentered college at an older age. She felt that she wanted to be worthy, to be smart enough to be married to a doctor, but she became deeply disillusioned with life in the process. The schoolwork was overloading her, saddening him that she did not feel valuable enough without a college degree.

He looked at me and said, “I have only been talking to you for a few minutes, but you seem like a very intelligent person. Sometimes people are already way further beyond what everybody else is doing.”

As he spoke, I stood there with my chest tightening. This kind-hearted man, a doctor no less, was the first adult I had ever met to tell me it was okay to turn off the beaten path.

When the conversation ended, I was on the verge of tears, reeling with the validation I had just received. My voice cracked as I thanked him. “You have made a deep impression on me after just a few moments of conversation. I know I will never see you again, but understand that you have made an impact on my heart.”

I gave this man (whose name I never learned) a hug, saying goodbye, but knowing this moment would never leave me.