Katie Istnick is one of those people whose presence you can feel before she speaks, and I mean that in the best way. She walks with purpose. I’m lucky to work alongside her at the Charleston Metro Chamber of Commerce, where she moves through each day with a quiet determination that gets things done and uplifts those around her.

But sometimes, that aura of self-assured competence can read as self-contained or reserved. “I used to be told, and maybe people still think this, that I come across as not approachable,” Katie told me. “And I want nothing more than to be approachable.”

The comment grabbed me by the heart and didn’t let go. I tend to be quite serious and quiet when I’m in my element at work or even with hobbies. I know how a focused expression can easily be mistaken for disinterest. Katie and I have both felt that quiet contradiction: the deep desire to connect with others, coupled with being misunderstood as distant.

The more we talked about it, the more I considered how that tension lives in a lot of us. There’s something earnest about wanting to be known but not always knowing how to show it. What struck me most is how Katie chooses to respond: with honest kindness and intention.

I’ve seen her bring that intention into the workplace, especially with younger or newer colleagues. “Even though I don’t necessarily feel like the level of seniority I have means anything,” she said, “the fact that I’ve been here so long, I want to make people feel as comfortabe as possible. If I feel insecure or like I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t want others to feel that way.”

In her twelve years at the Chamber, Katie has seen a lot of talent come and go. I see that instinct to make others feel welcome as a quiet act of kindness. It isn’t performative and it’s not loud. She just shows up, over and over with thoughtful honesty. It’s the kind of kindness that makes a place feel like it’s worth sticking around and showing up every day.

At home, she brings that same intentionality to her daughters. As a mother of three girls, Katie is focused on modeling honesty, consistency, and love. One of the most powerful lessons her own mother gave her was clarity. “My mom always used to say, ‘I’m not your best friend. I’m your mother.’ And even though that didn’t always feel good, I always knew where I stood with her. I always knew I could rely on her.”

You might be tempted to call it “tough love,” but I think it’s something else entirely. It’s genuine kindness. It draws a line between truly being kind and simply being nice. Sometimes kindness is being honest and assertive, even if it doesn’t feel good at the time.

“I’m at my best when people are completely honest with me,” she said, “and they with themselves. I want to pass that on to my daughters: that being genuine is always enough.”

If you’ve seen the film Saltburn, you may remember a moment when Elspeth Catton, played by Rosamund Pike, delivers this line: “Oh, but darling, you’re kind about everyone. You can’t be trusted.” It’s a sharp comment on charm and performative politeness. For me, it’s a reminder that true kindness isn’t always about being nice. It’s about being honest and showing up in ways that matter.

“It’s not the rules that shape our kids,” Katie clarified. “It’s how we show up. I knew my mom was always happy to see me no matter what, and that’s what I try to give my daughters every single day.”

Showing up doesn’t have to be doating or loud. It’s about clarity, consistency, and intention. Who are you showing up for day after day?

For Katie, sometimes it’s for herself. Aside from her family, part of that answer comes in the form of a garden. “I started gardening last year, and I had no idea what I was doing,” she laughed. “But now everything’s growing back, and it’s so exciting.” What began as a spontaneous trip to Lowe’s after visiting her mom’s flower-filled backyard became a creative outlet she didn’t know she needed.

The way she described it made me think it’s a reflection of how she operates in other areas of her life: Intentional, dedicated, consistent, and in it for the long haul. It is selfless, but it’s also just for her.

“It’s important to me,” she said. “It’s something that I have that’s just mine.” One evening a neighbor walking her dogs stopped and said, “I’ve been watching your yard. It looks incredible.” That compliment hit her deeply. “For someone to actually think I’m doing a good job is huge,” she told me. “A year ago, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

I understood why it mattered. I think Katie pours herself into everything she does—at home, at work, and even into the soil of her garden. That small moment of validation, unsolicited and genuine, landed in a soft place.

And while I really only know her through work, it’s obvious that her deepest pride comes from her daughters. She’s honest about the daily challenges, especially with her teenager, Emma, at such a different stage of life from her younger girls, Avery and Hannah.

“Emma reacts to Avery and Hannah as an adult that doesn’t have to parent them would react,” Katie said, but she sees the beauty in the long view. She sees the admiration her younger daughters have for their big sister like the seeds of a bond still forming beneath a seemingly wild surface.

“The girls think that she hangs the moon,” Katie added. “And so I think about what that means for them to be able to watch her.” She knows firsthand how strong those roots can grow. Her own sister is twelve years younger than her, and they’re very close now. That kind of relationship takes time and the kind of honest kindness that earns trust over time; the same kind of kindness her mother showed.

That might be the thread that ran through our entire conversation: a belief in consistently showing up, even when the results aren’t immediate, even when the present feels chaotic, and even if others can’t yet see what’s just below the surface of the soil. Whether in a garden, showing up to the office for twelve years and counting, or sharing a meal around the dinner table, Katie plants with intention. 

In hindsight, I think that’s why I felt compelled to have this conversation with her. We live and work in a culture that prizes extroversion, visibility, and niceties, but some of the kindest people I know are the ones who don’t necessarily clamor for attention, but they always show up. They walk with confidence and a strong vision and they give themselves fully to what matters. When you really see someone like that, you find a kind of genuine kindness that’s intentional and never fails to show up.

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Kind Light Charleston is an emerging professional headshot and personal portrait photography studio based in Charleston, South Carolina. I’m always looking for people to highlight in my blog, so if you know someone who shines a kind light in this world, I want to meet them! Reach out to josh@kindlightcharleston.com.