Narrator: Imagine a young, mixed-race girl in a preschool classroom, surrounded by her white classmates. The teacher gives them an assignment: create a collage of your family using pictures from magazines. As she flips through the glossy pages, a sinking feeling sets in. None of the families look like hers. There are no Black mothers, no white fathers, no biracial children. So, she carefully cuts out images of a white family—a blonde mother, a brown-haired father, and two white children—and pastes them onto her paper. She creates what she calls her "white paper family." This quiet act of a child trying to fit in is a profound illustration of a world that tells you who you should be, and the deep, personal journey required to reclaim who you are.

This experience is one of many from the life of Elaine Welteroth, detailed in her powerful memoir, More Than Enough: Claiming Space for Who You Are (No Matter What They Say). The book is a chronicle of her path to becoming the youngest-ever editor-in-chief at a Condé Nast publication, but more importantly, it's a blueprint for navigating spaces not built for you and dismantling the feeling that you are anything less than enough.

Narrator: From a young age, Welteroth learned that society often defines "normal" through a white lens, forcing anyone outside that narrow definition to navigate a world that can feel alienating. This was crystallized not only by the preschool collage incident but also by a brutal social ranking in fifth grade. The boys in her class created a list, ranking all the girls from "pretty" to "butt ugly." This experience taught her how early young women absorb external opinions about their worth, a lesson that was compounded by the lack of representation in media. Her childhood was a search for reflections of herself, from dolls to magazines, that rarely appeared.

This feeling of "otherness" was further complicated by her biracial identity. During a summer trip to visit her mother's family in Georgia, local Black girls on a trampoline labeled her a "White girl," highlighting the complex negotiation of identity within and outside of the Black community. These early experiences instilled a deep understanding that to survive and thrive, she would have to actively define her own worth, rather than letting the world define it for her.

Narrator: Welteroth explores the damaging cultural narrative that pressures women, particularly Black women, to be "ride or die" partners, enduring toxic behavior in the name of loyalty. She illustrates this through the painful story of her first love, a relationship that spanned from her teens into college. The romance began with grand gestures but devolved into a cycle of inconsistency, disrespect, and infidelity. Influenced by a desire to "hold her man down," she ignored red flags, including his arrest and a moment when he shattered a window in a fit of rage.

Years later, a similar dynamic emerged in her relationship with a man she nicknamed "Future Husband." This successful, charismatic investment banker seemed perfect on paper, but the relationship slowly chipped away at her identity. He criticized her reaction to expensive gifts, made her feel inadequate among his "bougie" friends, and subtly groomed her for a supporting role in his life. A pivotal moment came on Valentine's Day when he condescendingly berated her for accidentally mixing a grey sock with his white laundry. In that moment, she recognized the unhealthy power dynamic and the parts of herself she was sacrificing. The relationship ultimately ended after she received an anonymous email revealing he had a pregnant girlfriend, a truth he denied until confronted with undeniable proof. This painful experience solidified a crucial lesson: self-worth must be nurtured internally, and you must have the courage to walk away from anything—or anyone—that asks you to shrink.

Narrator: Welteroth’s professional journey is a case study in what it means to be a "First, Only, Different" (FOD) in overwhelmingly white corporate spaces. Her career began not at a glamorous, high-budget magazine, but at the under-resourced New York office of Ebony. The reality was a stark contrast to the fantasy, with a dingy office and a constant struggle for resources. Yet, it was here that she learned to be scrappy and understood the profound importance of Black-owned media. Being on set for Michelle Obama's first cover shoot as a potential First Lady cemented her purpose: to bridge the gap between mainstream media and Black culture.

Her move to Condé Nast, first at Glamour and then at Teen Vogue, presented a new set of challenges. She was often the only Black woman in the room and felt the weight of representing her entire community. When she was appointed Beauty & Health Director at Teen Vogue, she became the first Black person to hold the title in Condé Nast's 107-year history. This role came with the responsibility to not just occupy the seat, but to use it to create space for others, championing stories and beauty standards that had long been ignored by the mainstream.

Narrator: At Teen Vogue, Welteroth was determined to change the storytellers in order to change the stories. However, she quickly learned that authentic representation is a minefield. A story she wrote celebrating Afrocentric hairstyles, inspired by her own Senegalese twists, sparked a massive social media backlash. The feature used a light-skinned, biracial model, and readers accused the magazine of cultural appropriation, assuming the model was white.

Instead of hiding, Welteroth and her team leaned into the controversy. She penned an open letter acknowledging the misstep—specifically, the failure to include a wider range of skin tones—and committed to doing better. This painful public lesson became a turning point. The team followed up with a groundbreaking cover featuring three Black models—Imaan Hammam, Aya Jones, and Lineisy Montero—which became the magazine's best-selling issue of the year, disproving the industry myth that Black faces don't sell covers. This experience proved that true representation isn't just about putting diverse faces on the page; it's about ensuring diverse voices and perspectives are behind the scenes, making the decisions.

Narrator: After being promoted to editor-in-chief of Teen Vogue, Welteroth and her team transformed the brand into a celebrated platform for youth activism and social justice. But this professional high came at a great personal cost. The immense pressure led to burnout, manifesting in physical symptoms like anxiety and weight loss. A doctor’s visit served as a wake-up call, forcing her to confront a lifelong pattern of overworking. A quote from a panelist, Eve Ewing, resonated deeply: "There is no glory in a grind that literally grinds you down to dust."

Just as Teen Vogue reached its peak influence, Condé Nast decided to shutter the print edition. This devastating news, however, became a moment of clarity. A pivotal conversation with filmmaker Ava DuVernay gave Welteroth the courage to see a bigger picture. DuVernay challenged her, suggesting that leaving Condé Nast altogether would be a powerful, decisive move. Realizing her work there was done, Welteroth chose to walk away from the security of the corporate world, trusting that her purpose was infinite, even if job titles were temporary. She learned that being "enough" wasn't about achieving a certain title, but about having the bravery to define success on her own terms.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from More Than Enough is that your worth is inherent and non-negotiable. It is not granted by a job title, a relationship, or societal approval. The journey Elaine Welteroth charts is one of moving from seeking external validation to cultivating an unshakeable internal belief in one's own value. It is a process of claiming space—not just in a boardroom or on a magazine cover, but within your own life.

The book leaves us with a powerful challenge. In a world that often pressures those who are different to conform, to assimilate, to shrink, Welteroth’s story is a call to do the opposite. It asks a vital question: What would you do if you truly believed you were already enough? The answer, she suggests, is to expand—to unapologetically take up space, to use your unique voice, and to understand that just being you is, in itself, a revolution.