We’ve forgotten that oftentimes togetherness is what most heals us. 

If you are struggling to feel at home in any physical space in your life right now, I hope these tips can help you to dig into those spaces and find a deep rootedness, a home, there.

While it is my job to impart wisdom and direction, whether in life or just how to organize a binder, I never realized I would be the one to do the learning. 

If you had ten minutes with your pregnant self, what would you tell her with the benefit of hindsight? What would you quietly whisper in her ear? Some helpful tidbits that would set her off in the right direction. Here's what I would say…

This morning, I told my mom that airports are good for two things: running and crying. 

“And getting to your destination,” she added. (My mom is always the one who brings me back to earth.) 

I wanted to write these words to remind you that a few people is still a community.

If you’re reading this and your heart is overcome because that desert place is a raw reality of where you’re walking today, then I’d like to encourage you with three simple but meaningful truths the desert imparted to me.

So what do you do when the prospect of love just seems like fools’ gold? What do you do when thirty-something married couples tell you “Twenty-seven is so young”? What happens when you feel foolish for hoping for love and immature for not being able to take the long-view of this whole thing?

We want the story where everything magically falls into place, where some effort is required but not too much, where the thing we’ve decided to do takes off immediately and we’ve suddenly jumped the gap from dream life to real life.

But here’s the rub: that isn’t how it usually works.

I was reminded in this fast-paced, filtered, social media world that real friendship is more than just strangers who like your Instagram photos and only see your highlight reel. 

I discovered that mindfulness is so much more than downloading the best meditation apps, doing yoga every once in a while, and trying really hard to focus on your breathing for five minutes.

Books bring all kinds of wonders into the world, and one of those is the way they open avenues to connection and community. If you’re looking for closer connections, you might consider starting a book club.

Worrying is a part of human nature. It’s a completely natural and normal thing to do. What’s NOT natural and normal is letting worry take over your life.

As women, we often define ourselves by seasons. And I don’t mean the sweater-wearing, PSL-drinking, football-watching of fall, or the sandals, sunscreen, and sundresses of spring. I’m talking about the seasons appointed to us: wedding season, baby season, second baby season, pre-all of these seasons . . . you know the drill. The time of our lives most consistently associated with friends checking off specific boxes on their life to-do list. 

I used to wonder this on the daily, feeling that diagnosis heavy on my forehead. I wore the bitterness and helplessness of that very question for so long. Depression became my identity everywhere I went, wondering if people saw it in big bold letters too.

Shame doesn’t have the final word. Not in my story and not in yours.

While my family and I have chosen a path to dedicate our lives to fighting human trafficking, I know that not everybody has that calling on their lives. We all have a purpose and a plan, but that does not mean that we cannot contribute to change. Justice is in our hands. Here are a couple of practical ways you and I can fight human trafficking in our everyday lives!

Our world, whether it means to or not, has a tendency to place strength and independence at odds with vulnerability, as if we can only have one or the other. Women must either be snappy, professional, and independent as they speed down the sidewalk in their heels or they must curl up in their cashmere sweater to talk about their feelings with their partner. Men must continually be strong and independent, as they aren’t socially expected to have an avenue in which to be vulnerable.  

I have come to believe that a healthy sense of curiosity is not only essential for developing a love of learning in children but is also essential for developing a healthy interest in and compassion for our fellow humankind.

A 60-day notice to vacate greets us one afternoon after work, posted on the door of the home my husband and I have rented and loved for three years. The weekend I hit emotional rock bottom, we found a one-bedroom, overpriced apartment farther down the freeway. We made an appointment. Anthony skipped class to see it, and he paid a holding fee. We found a place to live.