In 48 hours, I'll be sitting in a jury room at Creative LIAisons Vegas, surrounded by people whose work I've studied, admired, and secretly tried to copy. Right now, I'm googling 'what do you wear to advertising award functions' and 'do people actually network or just awkwardly hold drinks' at 3am and questioning every life choice that led to this moment.

Twenty-three hours of travel. One freelance creative from Bengaluru. Zero idea what I'm doing.

Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost, and the next scene is completely unwritten.

Here's the truth: I'm terrified. But it's the good kind of terrified. The kind that means you're about to do something that matters. Not Instagram-story nervous. I'm talking about the deep, electric fear that comes when you realise you're about to level up in ways you never imagined. That maybe, just maybe, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

They have assigned me to the 'TV and Cinema and Online Film' jury room: the room where campaigns become culture, where thirty-second films turn into movements. It feels like being handed the keys to creativity's most sacred space when I've spent years watching from the outside (and occasionally yelling at my laptop screen, 'but why didn't this win anything?').

But here's the thing: I've been preparing for this my entire career without even knowing it.

Here's what makes my heart race in the best possible way: I might be there when someone cracks the code on why certain work breaks the internet while other campaigns disappear into the void. I could watch legends dissect the exact moment a piece of film stops being advertising and becomes culture. Those campaigns that made me pause mid-scroll and actually feel something. I might finally understand how they weaponise emotion so perfectly.

The 'Ask a CCO anything' session on day one? I've been preparing questions for weeks.

Not because I'm panicking, but because this is my shot to learn from people who've built empires from ideas.

'How do you stay fearless?'

'What would you tell your younger self?'

'How do you turn vulnerability into strength?'

These aren't just questions. They're my roadmap for what comes next. I'm especially excited about meeting the women who've shown me what's possible: Samira Ansari, Swati Bhattacharya, and Umma Saini. These powerhouses have built careers that redefine what leadership looks like. Swati ma'am was my mentor during the virtual sessions, and meeting her in person feels like coming full circle. These women have taught me that you don't have to choose between being kind and being ambitious, between being vulnerable and being strong.

The live brief with a team of 10 strangers? Bring it on. This is where the magic happens, when diverse minds collide and create something none of them could have imagined alone. Maybe I'll be the least experienced person in the room, but that also means I get to absorb wisdom from every direction. Sometimes being new is a superpower.

Then there's the fact that I'm doing this completely solo. Twenty-three hours of travel, a week in Vegas, just me and my dreams (and my extremely detailed itinerary colour-coded by anxiety levels).

After turning 30 and getting my ADHD diagnosis, I spent months thinking I needed to have everything figured out before I could step into spaces like this. But here's what I've learned: growth doesn't wait for you to feel ready. The best opportunities come disguised as things that scare you.

I keep coming back to that line from F. Scott Fitzgerald: 'for what it's worth, it's never too late, or too early, to be whoever you want to be.'

This trip is me deciding who I want to become. Someone who takes chances, who asks the hard questions, who shows up authentically even when (especially when) it's uncomfortable.

This isn't just a week in Vegas. This is me betting on myself when I don't feel particularly bet-worthy. It's proof that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is say yes to opportunities that make your hands shake. Because that's where transformation lives, in the space between fear and possibility.

I want to soak up everything: the late-night creative sessions, the casual hallway conversations that change everything, the moment when someone explains exactly how they turned thirty seconds of film into cultural lightning. I want to understand not just what makes great work, but what makes great careers, great leadership, great lives built around creativity.

Will I make mistakes? Absolutely. Will I ask questions that reveal how much I don't know? Definitely. Will I come back changed, expanded, with stories that fuel me for years? That's exactly what I'm counting on.

So here I am, preparing for the adventure of a lifetime. I'm massively overpacking: notebooks, laptop, clothes for every Vegas weather possibility, backup chargers, questions for the legends, and this version of myself that's finally ready to stop playing small.

No safety nets, no backup plans, just pure possibility and way more luggage than any reasonable person needs. This is me deciding that feeling like I don't belong is better than wondering what would have happened if I'd tried.

Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost, and I'm about to make it worth watching.

Tanvi Shah is a creative consultant based in Bengaluru. She was one of two winners of a competition Manifest hosted earlier this year for LIA Creative Liaisons.