First, let me welcome you—not just into a profession, but into a lifelong calling. Nursing is more than a career. It is a surrender of self to service. It is beautiful, fulfilling, deeply human work. But it is not simple. And it is certainly not easy.

As you grow into this role, you may begin to notice something changing in the way the world sees you. You no longer just belong to your family, your friends, your community—you become a source of strength and knowledge for them. You are no longer simply the daughter, the friend, the relative. You are the nurse.

And that changes everything.

You will be the one people call when a child has a fever that won’t break, or when an aging parent can’t remember things anymore. They will turn to you in moments of fear and uncertainty, trusting you to offer answers, comfort, or hope. And you will feel pride in those moments—pride that you’ve earned their trust and that you can help.

But I also need you to understand this: Sometimes, being “the nurse” means bearing witness to the pain of those you love most, and holding that pain with a quiet strength. Sometimes, you’ll sit at the bedside of a dying loved one, and even in the midst of your own heartbreak, you’ll find yourself listening critically to every word the doctor says, watching every subtle gesture of the healthcare team, quietly advocating in ways no one may even see. You won’t be able to just be the grieving daughter or the worried sister. You’ll also be the medical mind in the room—the one who knows what should happen, what might happen, what could have been done.

And later, when the room is quiet and the loss becomes real, you’ll question yourself. You’ll ask, “Did I do enough? Did I say enough? Did I miss something?” This is a burden many nurses carry in silence. It’s the shadow side of our training—the part where knowledge becomes both a gift and a weight.

You may delay your own grieving, sitting in that hospital room, focusing on everyone else’s needs, because that’s what nurses do. We put others first. We observe. We hold space. We advocate. We give.

But I urge you, as you take this path, to also find moments to receive. Let yourself mourn. Let yourself be human, not just healer. Let your tears fall when they need to. Talk to someone. Write it down. Breathe.

Being a nurse will change your life—it will deepen your empathy, sharpen your instincts, and connect you to the rawest, most profound moments of the human experience. It will also ask more of you than you ever thought possible.

So please, carry your knowledge with grace, but also with gentleness—for others and for yourself.

With respect and solidarity,

A Fellow Nurse

Melanie Ceraso MSN, FNP is a CRNP at Signify Health in Houston, TX.