Not Why I Fight But Who I Fight For

People often ask, “What drives you?”

The question usually expects a big purpose, a grand "why." But for me, the fire doesn't come from why I fight.

It comes from who I fight for.

I fight for the ones who stayed up late helping me rewrite that one idea I couldn’t let go of.
For the friend who believed in me before I had proof.
For the mentor who didn’t give up when I dropped the ball—again.
For every quiet cheerleader in the background, rooting without applause.

Sometimes, your own “why” isn’t enough. You get tired. You doubt. You lose direction.
But the moment you remember who is counting on you—even silently—it clicks.
The weight becomes worth it.

I’ve learned that it’s not ego that keeps you going. It’s love. Loyalty. Legacy.

So no, it’s not about the fight itself.
It’s about the faces I see when I close my eyes—the people who remind me who I am when I forget.

And in those moments, even the hardest battles become bearable.
Because I’m not fighting alone. I’m fighting for.

And that makes all the difference.