I came across the “Vogue” Fashion Summer School during my freshman year of high school. At the time, it felt less like a real opportunity and more like a daydream I wasn’t allowed to admit out loud. Even though it felt impossible, I always imagined what it would be like to walk around the “Condé Nast” offices, meet girls from around the world who were talented and unique in their own ways, and see my future start to take shape.

Out of the three programs offered, business, media and styling, the business program was my dream. It included two weeks of intensive training in fashion business, branding and media in the heart of New York City.

The weekly schedule included rooming with other girls, attending daily classes and going to lectures led by some of the best in the fashion industry. Not only would participants work directly with “Vogue” and “Condé Nast” professionals, but they would also gain valuable hands-on experience.

Last school year, I couldn’t rest. I knew Vogue’s Summer School program was accepting applications again. I was scared; I was scared of rejection, of people finding out if I didn’t get in and of how I’d afford it at all.

But one night, I got out of bed and started writing my application. Hours passed, and when I finally submitted it, I knew I had given it my best. I told only my mom the basics, asked her for help with the application fee and prayed for the best. I was proud that I finally took the step from dreaming about it to doing it.

When I got the email saying to click a link to find out if I was accepted, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I told myself, “Who cares what it says? I probably didn’t get in anyway.” Then I clicked. I got in. I screamed and ran to tell my parents. My dad was shocked because I hadn’t told him I even applied.

Once they realized it was real, they were just as excited as I was. In that moment, the impossible suddenly felt possible. All I could think about was getting to New York and stepping into the world I’d dreamed about for years.

Many months later, it was finally time. After studying, preparing and planning, I was ready to be on my own for the first time—in a city I had never been to—for two weeks at the “Condé Nast” offices. Walking through John F. Kennedy International Airport, all I could think about was meeting new people while doing what I loved.