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Determination and worry mingled on the young mother’s face as she cradled her one-day-old premature infant against her chest, offering life-saving warmth. In the crowded district hospital in rural Karnataka, where I was posted as an intern, only one incubator was functional, and it was already occupied. Refusing to accept that her child would go without, she fashioned a makeshift incubator using a hot-water bottle wrapped in cloth, a cardboard box lined with her spare sari, and a hand-fan for ventilation. The medical staff, initially doubtful, soon saw the infant’s temperature hold steady. The newborn survived the precarious first week not because of modern machinery, but because a mother dared to innovate with what she had. Years later, I still think of her. I never learned what became of the mother or her baby, but I know she will never be named as an inventor, nor given the chance to cultivate her gift for ingenuity. And I cannot help but wonder: how much does society lose when women like her are denied opportunity and recognition? The privilege of being a woman in science is not one I carry lightly. My own journey, from the frenetic wards of a hospital in Bangalore to the classrooms and corridors of Johns Hopkins, owes itself to a constellation of mentors, institutions, and serendipitous opportunities. Yet what this journey has indelibly taught me is that women in science are not mere adjuncts to discovery, nor passive participants in laboratories. When given the right opportunity,  Women can reframe paradigms, question inherited wisdom, and imbue the enterprise of science with perspectives rooted in lived experience. History reminds us that breakthroughs often happen when women dare to step into spaces that seemed closed to them. In India, Dr. Anandibai Joshi became the country’s first degree-holding woman physician in 1886, carving a path in a time when women were rarely educated, let alone trained in medicine. Fortunately, she had an encouraging father and a supportive husband who helped her achieve these goals. A century later, Dr. Suniti Solomon defied prevailing societal silence to identify the first cases of HIV in India, displaying extraordinary courage in confronting a stigmatized subject and opening the door for an entire field of research and care.  When women are empowered to stride confidently into the domains of science, technology, engineering, mathematics, and medicine (the now familiar acronym of STEMM), the dividends to society can be exponential. Time and again we witness how women leaders in health research instinctively shape equity and access, invariably asking with moral clarity: who is being left behind? In my own work with adolescents living with HIV in India, I have seen this metamorphosis unfold in front of my eyes: when entrusted with the instruments of science and leadership, girls who once hovered on the margins constrained by circumstance, emerge as eloquent advocates for themselves and their peers. To invest in women is not to fill a gap; it is to expand the possibilities of what science can be and who it can serve For me, the question is no longer whether women belong in STEMM. They most certainly do. The question is whether we, as individuals, societies and institutions, will build the scaffolding for women not just to enter, but to flourish. How we can be the architects of a society that recognizes and nurtures the true potential of women like the young mother of my internship days.  The India RISE Fellowship is one such initiative aiming to empower early-career women in STEMM to discover their inner compass in both research and leadership. To build their confidence to not only transform their own lives but recalibrate the aspirations of entire communities. To cultivate a “pay-it-forward” culture of mentorship that grows into a just and lasting future. This is the future I want to be part of. A future we must all commit to creating. Because when women in STEMM drive discovery, they help the world heal and thrive.