Letters to the woman I'm becoming.

Today a small conversation rewrote the next few years of your life. He said the thing you'd been doing in the markets was already analysis. You believed him enough to open a browser and look up SQL.

Whatever happens next, remember this: it didn't start with a course or a job offer. It started with a sentence, and a willingness to listen.

There was a week you almost convinced yourself you were too late and too slow. You weren't. You were just learning, in the dark, with the lights literally off.

Keep going. The precision you're learning is going to become the way you think.

You were nervous in a way you hadn't been since university. You showed up anyway. By the end of the first week you were doing real work on real data, and the doubt got a little smaller.

Don't forget what this felt like — being chosen, in the middle of still becoming.

When you read this and you're already the analyst we kept talking about, I hope you remember the 4 a.m. nights with kindness instead of pride.

I hope you still ask small, dumb questions before clever ones. I hope you still believe a clear definition matters more than a clever measure.

And I hope, on the days you doubt the road you took, you come back here and remember: this is the girl who started with nothing but a conversation and stayed.