“Just one more step,” I begged via text message at 5 a.m. When I entered Reddit early that evening, I couldn’t possibly have guessed what would come to happen. Browsing through some mental health channels, mainly to reflect on my issues, a post called my attention: “ I think I’ve gone too deep. What should I do?” The Post said: I’ve been self-harming for years, but I think I’ve gone too deep this time. It’s bleeding a lot, and it simply won’t stop. I’m feeling dizzy and light, and I don’t know what to do”. Underneath that, thousands of messages with instructions and suggestions. But I instinctively knew he didn’t need instructions; he needed someone. That was a cry for help. “Hey, I saw your message. Can we talk?” I spent the next 5 hours talking with Loen. He told me his whole story, how he had trouble making friendships, was in and out of mental health facilities, and was almost dropping out of school because of his mental health. I kept bringing up that he needed to go to the hospital urgently and that he was in danger. That’s when he told me: “ What if that’s the goal? What if I don't want to live anymore?”. The ringing in my head was so deafening. Impossibly loud. Clouding all my rational thoughts. I'm just a girl still in school. What can I do for someone like Loen? That’s when it finally dawned on me. At that very moment, I was the only thing keeping him alive. Not a psychologist, not a doctor, but a fellow human. I didn’t need to be perfect or an expert; I needed to be there. “ You don’t want to die, Loen, you simply can’t take this life anymore, and I don't blame you. But as impossible as it sounds right now, tomorrow your life won’t be the same, and this pain that you are feeling will subside. You have me now, and we will go through this together. If now is unbearable, focus on staying alive this day, this hour, this second, with me by your side. Take a chance on yourself, and you won’t regret it. ” After that, everything was a blur; he agreed to walk to the hospital despite the blood loss. Throughout the way, he kept messaging me to let me know he hadn’t passed out. I held my breath for every message he sent – “ I’m still walking” … “ I’m almost there”. “ Just one more step,” I kept repeating desperately, for both of us, as he neared the hospital. I was only able to breathe again after he got admitted. We still talk to this day. This isn’t a story about expertise or credentials. It’s about a boy who needed to be seen—and a girl who chose to see him. Psychology is the art of noticing, understanding, and truly seeing another human being. That night made it clear: I want to spend my life doing just that. But to help more people with the right tools, I need a formal education I can’t afford alone. With financial support, I can take the next step toward becoming a psychologist who studies behavior and meets people where they are, when it matters most. All I need is: “Just one more step.”