I may not be Beyoncé, but I know this feeling well. At just 29, I've already made some incredible accomplishments. I'm a features writer at one of the most innovative media companies in the world, I've broadcasted live from an awards show red carpet to more than 1 million people, I've interviewed the queen of interviewing, Ms. Oprah Winfrey herself. And yet, no matter how many accolades I receive, or how proud my parents tell me they are, or how much encouraging feedback I get from colleagues, lying just beneath the surface of my ambition will always be the unshakeable feeling that thanks to the color of my skin, I will never be seen as equally successful or capable as the white woman next to me. For as long as I’m working, no matter how high up I skyrocket or how quickly, I will always have to wonder if my white boss or co-worker or friend sees me slightly differently because I’m Black. (Not to mention that the higher I am in the hierarchy, the less people I’ll see who look like me.)