About 6 months ago, I started helping others through Destiny2 's endgame PvE - mostly dungeons and GMs - not because I’m a top-tier player or wanted to collect praise, but because I wanted to give back. For every time someone took the time to teach me a mechanic, walk me through a wipefest, or just didn’t boot me for being clueless, I felt I owed it to Destiny Community to pass it forward. What I didn’t expect was just how difficult, and honestly, tedious Sherpa-ing could be. I’ve gained a whole new level of respect for every single Guardian who has ever willingly stepped into the role of teacher, leader, or group babysitter. The amount of self-control, patience, and mental gymnastics it takes to keep a fireteam together while explaining mechanics and adjusting to every player's pace? It’s unreal. Over these past months, I’ve met every kind of player imaginable: · Some talk, some don't. Some use text chat, some only use comms in their own language, and others... well, you're lucky if you even get a jump emote. · Some are totally new and honest about it—huge respect to them. Others pretend they know everything and then wipe the team 12 times trying to “one-phase” something with "1600 light". · Then there are the speedrunners who just want to burn through the activity and don’t care if the blueberry is still trying to find their way out of the jumping puzzle. · Some Guardians are genuinely grateful and patient. Others tilt the moment something goes wrong, quit without a word mid-encounter, or worse - start kicking people for being “too new” or making one mistake. Honestly, there are too many player archetypes to count, and most don’t even fit into a box. Every run is different. Every encounter is a coin toss. And still... the Sherpa community keeps showing up. I sometimes think we must be completely insane. We take the pain, the wipes, the silence, the sudden departures, and we keep coming back—for what? A "GG" in chat. A "thx" over comms. A surprised laugh or gasp when someone clears an encounter for the first time. That one excited voice that says, “Holy crap we did it!”—that’s the magic. That’s the reason. The thing is, there’s no emblem, triumph, shader, or loot drop for being a real Sherpa. No unique title. No in-game system to manage the literal overflow of "blue" loot and junk materials you have to scrap manually after every run. And yet, the real Sherpas keep helping. Many of them don’t even create content or chase hashtags. They just do: day in, day out, with no spotlight. So, can I call myself a true Sherpa? I’m not sure. But I try. And I’ve grown to truly respect everyone out there who’s been carrying Guardians up this long hill of light levels and wipe counters. @Bungie, if you're reading this -please find a way to recognize these people. Not just the creators, but the quiet heroes in LFGs, Discords, and random matchmaking, who teach, guide, and stay patient when everyone else hits "Leave Fireteam." They’re the reason many of us stuck around long enough to become the ones helping next. #EyesUpGuardians #GuardianHelpingGuardians #PatienceIsALightSubclass