Monthly Archives: May 2025

We Matter

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This is for anyone who’s ever been told you don’t matter. That you’re nobody. That you’re nothing. 

As a woman, maybe I’ve had more than my share of these words thrown at me. They’ve come from a father, a teacher, a partner, a friend, a boss. 

I used to believe them. I agreed so easily that I wasn’t anything worth caring about. I had no value, just a vessel to trudge around the world. 

It didn’t matter that I always proved the opposite – in academics, loyalty to those I loved, forgiveness without an apology and excelling at my career. 

I was still invisible and disrespected – someone who should be lucky they were even given a chance. How’d I get that chance in the first place? Because I worked harder and was smarter. No one has given me anything in life. I clawed my way to it. There was no privilege buoying me up. It was pure will and fight. 

Ultimately, I’ve never wanted much more than to matter to someone. I just forgot I had to matter to myself first. My very busy brain, threaded with depression and anxiety, sometimes creates this state of amnesia. I forget all the inner work that helped me firmly believe I matter. 

I’m trying really hard to hold onto that when there are loud voices telling me I’m nothing and nobody. 

But they don’t get the last word. I do.  

So, if right now, you’re hanging by a thread and unsure if there’s anybody in the world who thinks you’re somebody, I do. Even if I don’t know you, I promise you matter. 

We’re inside this upside-down moment where empathy is called weakness, intelligence is labeled as indoctrination, and accountability has never been more scarce. 

I’m a fighter and a survivor. I’ve proved it time and time again. I hope the next time someone says you don’t matter; you’ll realize that those words said are the ones that don’t matter. 

She Is the Kind of Thing My Heart Always Needs

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she is the kind of thing my heart always needs

There is spirit in her laugh.

It’s the kind of thing that captures a memory.

And we’ve had decades of them.

Yet I’ll never grow tired of her remembering them

or waiting for the next ones to begin.

She is someone I’ve always longed to be close to and

Someone I had many firsts with – the kind that write your story.

It’s the kind of thing that conjures a feeling you never forget.

She was magical and brave and full of sparkle even when she thought she was wrong

or strange

or just too different.

She never tried too hard,

letting her springs of curls do as they pleased.

As childhood turned to adolescence to adulthood, there were times when we had to grow apart to come back together.

One of the best days of my life was the day we became whole with one another again.

Nervous, I was to see if we still fit.

That first hug brought so much rushing back.

It’s the kind of thing that will make you weep whenever you glance back.

The world has been harsh; the playout often cruel.

No one gets through life

without the scrapes and scars.

But if you have real love by your side in the form of someone like her,

It’s the kind of thing that gets you through.

I’ll never be unloved or alone with her in my tribe.

Celebrating her is a joy of my life.

With her heart connected to mine,

It’s the kind of thing that makes the big, dark sky of the unknown less scary.

This, my friend, my sister, my love is a true story about two girls who never quite felt right where they started and learned that was so very okay.

Beautifully, they found brighter paths and never lost each other.

It’s the kind of thing that emboldens us with audacious hope.

A poem today in celebration of my very wonderful and true friend, Kelda, on her birthday. To write poetry is to live among the beauty of words.

Mourning Someone Like Me

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Mourning Someone Like Me

We would have fewer worries and more excitement if November had gone our way.

When it didn’t, I felt my body shift into mourning for the person who lived in a world where empathy won. It was in no way a mandate, but I also had to mourn the end of our rights as we knew them. We’ve been sleepwalking a bit on believing we are free. There’s a lot working against us.

I began to think about this after reading the brilliant John Pavlovich and his post on missing who we were and hoped to be before this regime.

I am so sad that the safer, hopeful me is gone. She was already weakened, but now she’s lost forever.

If this wretched system actually worked for “we the people,” I wouldn’t have to wake each morning in fear. What unconstitutional and evil thing has happened? Have more people been disappeared? What’s the latest blow to Health and science? Billionaires enjoy all the money they already have but want more. It’s insatiable – the greed, hubris, and bullshit talking points that up is down.

I fucking miss the hell out of the person who wouldn’t have to worry about cuts at work or job security. I’m the head of a department, but nobody is safe.

I’d love to wake up and be that Beth planning trips and new adventures. She was excited about visiting places of courage and resistance.

I’ve had to mourn many versions of me in my life. My mom’s death forever created a chasm; coming out the other side, I was different. Then there was who I became after starting over at 30. I had no husband, a drive to disappear and a final awakening.

A healthier and less scotch-taped soul emerged after my second marriage. This version of me was really happy. Then, I decided to test the norm and move across the country. After six years, I can say I’m a Las Vegan.

The pandemic reset everybody in a way. It eventually led to my living a healthier lifestyle.

All the people we’ve been. Sometimes sadder; other times braver.

I’m devastated that a better life for all of us didn’t happen.

The rally call remains the same. Create unity, share your knowledge, and get involved.

Please consider joining your local Indivisible chapter. These are your people.

This current version of me – she’s still in progress. I’m sad more than I’m not. Hearing about how you’re doing could help the rest of us.Insightful!Interesting!FollowingShare