My daughter is now a doctor.

It's a sentence I knew was coming...but typing it out is as surreal as seeing MD after her name or hearing Dr. Sophia Post Raia announced at Madison Square Garden over the weekend.

My pride knows no bounds and the happy tears seem not to end, but there is another truth that makes me smile through them - I am not the mentor here. My father holds that role and I could not love that fact more.

I should have seen it coming.

When she was a toddler, Band Aid Baby - a doll thankfully saved from innumerable injuries by band-aids liberally applied like stickers - was a favorite toy. When she pestered my father, a world renowned brain surgeon, to bring her into a real life operating room - a REAL one, she wouldn't stop until she was in the room and in scrubs. Her fascination with art and science led to national awards and her connection to wounded special operation service-members deepened her interest in neurology and concussion research.

She could not be swayed.

And while her parents, brother and three other highly accomplished grandparents contributed to her work ethic and cheered their lungs out at Saturday's graduation ceremony, only my father stood on stage with her to do the honors and welcome her into the medical field.

I wept similar tears when he did the same four years ago at her White Coat invocation, and as I marveled this weekend at how time has flown I was deeply grateful for the mentoring relationship that unfolded between my father and my firstborn.

He ushered her into rooms and labs at the earliest age and answered every question she had.

He introduced her to women in her chosen field and ensured role models were at the ready.

On her 25th birthday when my mother gave her pearls, he gave her a model skull with every nerve and vein enumerated and labeled.

She adored the pearls. She named the skull Jeffrey.

I spend much of each day connecting girls with mentors, and it is the joy of a lifetime. A decade into this mission has only fueled my vision to put as many girls as possible into rooms that matter and face to face with female leaders.

So it is understandable that I yearn for medical mentors for my girl.

But the happiness that comes from knowing that my father is her mentor is an unexpected gift that, yes - I should have seen coming.

It is here now, and as she danced through the courtyard on graduation day I know her first steps into medicine are made all the sweeter for it. If you know anything about Être you've heard that my daughter was the catalyst - her questions about women at work sparked the idea. How glorious it is, nearly ten years later to the day, to watch her mentor be the first to call her Dr. Raia.

Looking forward with proud tears, a grateful heart and a brand new doctor,

Illana