Vegan Leather Love

Hello my looooves! Happy New Year. I hope you all had a wonderfully joyful holiday season. Ours was super low key and exactly what we needed. Thanks Universe. 🙌🏻 We spent a lot of time with family and just had our final Christmas, last night, as everyone in Luke’s family got this plague on Christmas Eve. I kinda loved this drawn out holiday. We started early and ended late… best case scenario, basically. 😂 There was a day full of traveling that I didn’t love but that brought me some clarity on life. I love chatting with my man piece about life. He’s been my best friend for a long time now…. which is why I married him. Haha. This is now way off topic. 🤣🤣 Lets just get into it.

Recently, I was sent a Black Faux Leather Diaper Bag from Citi Babies. When I ordered it, I was expecting to not love it, tbh. Truth: never loved a diaper bag…. until now. Let me backtrack and tell you that I’ve tried 3 different styles now. AND… I actually used my NorthFace backpack for over a year because I loathed all other bags. 😳 Thankfully, Maria with CB was kind enough to send me a bag that I truly love. The vegan leather is as soft as BUTTA! The straps on the bag are close together ,asking for a super comfy fit. P. S. WHY are the straps sooo far apart on other bags? That only causes them to fall off your shoulder as soon as you… idk… move your body. Literally, what the heck!! Anyway… we have taken this bag with us everywhere lately and I am truly thankful for its durability. As an active family, this bag has seen some dirt…and oil.. and snacks… and it has been super easy to clean. I’ve taken a wipe to it a few times and it still looks brand new.

Also, there are a lot of compartments inside the bag. Thankfully, for my OCD heart, i can keep everything in its spot. There is even a space for a (smaller) laptop which I use for my iPad & keyboard.

You need this diaper bag. Trust me.

I hope you love this review. I had a lot of questions on my last diaper bag post and wanted to give you all more information.

May your day be full of love & laughter!


Life With Two

By Emily Kelly

Life with Two

I’m so happy that Bre asked if I’d like to contribute to this series; when you have two little kids two and under, it’s hard to force your brain to think elegantly or coherently after the hours of eight pm. But I’m always glad when I do because I end up learning something about myself. And if we’re not growing, we going backwards, am I right?

I’ve always been the sort of person who dreams up a million dreams and thinks I’m going to conquer demons and cure diseases… a really Type A envisionist-type but not at all a type A in execution; if you know what I mean.

For example, while going through a box of memories stuffed in the closet of my childhood bedroom at home, I unearthed this project from grade 9 where we had to map out our life. Along the timeline I had a couple accolades such as “Wins Nobel Peace Prize” and “Writes a Novel” – all before the age of 30.

Insert rolling on the floor laughing here.

You see, I’ve never had a problem dreaming big; but I’ve also never really felt what you might call “settled.” I went through public school with a few good friends here and there but was never at the centre of those pre-teen parties. Always hanging around the periphery never really feeling like I fit in, I managed to slide by on buying some of the right clothes and not having bad acne, I suppose.

And high school was good don’t get me wrong, it just wasn’t great. It kinda flew by, much like all the phases of my life, but more likely because I still felt this anticipation of all this great stuff to come that has always been promised to me (was it that way where you grew up too? I think it’s part of our generation: “Be all you can be! Be famous! Be rich! Be successful! Don’t let anyone stop you for anything!”)

And college was…better. It was more fulfilling because I remember for the first time in my life feeling like I was really “doing it”; whatever that means. I guess I felt like a kid on a brochure for higher education: books in arm, learning things while I sat around on a green with friends talking about stuff that we all were collectively passionate about.

But it still wasn’t me.

And what does this have to do with life with two?

I guess I’m just beginning only now, at 33 to know what it feels like to have “arrived.” And I know maybe you’re here thinking I’ll be talking about the struggle I’ve had, losing myself to motherhood – up to my elbows in diapers and tantrums (<—— all extremely accurate by the way) but for me, it’s been much the opposite. I feel a restlessness inside me that has subsided. (Please don’t groan audibly yet, I promise I’m [trying to] going somewhere with this).

Today, sitting with my four-month-old on my lap on the rug in my living room, surrounded by those Fisher Price Little People and Brio train parts, my two year-old asked for the umpteen millionth time, “someone’s at the door! answer the door mama.” to her Calico Critter Cozy Cottage. (She had really gotten it in her head that it was the most hilarious thing in life). And I thought this was the most special, cutest thing ever. You I’m sure, think it’s probably just OK, but that moment was golden. It was mine and I was at peace today amidst the chaos that is my life right now.

I guess part of me wishes someone had told me earlier: being a mom can be the best thing ever. And maybe you’ll want to be ambitious and do all sorts of things that will earn you brass plates. But maybe you won’t. And that’s ok too. Because the ernest truth is this: I don’t know if the 14-year-old in me wrote down : “Earn Nobel Peace Prize” because I actually wanted to devote my life to that particular cause. I think there are pieces of me inside that would love to do something to leave a bigger mark on this world (outside of raising good humans) and I hope I still find my way to that pursuit some day in my own timing, but I honestly don’t know if I would have been “happy” pursuing that particular life. I think I thought it would make me happy – to be really dedicated to a cause. But the honest truth is, this is my cause. And life can be accomplished even when it’s so very not. You can pursue all those things and be happy or you can also just be happy in your own home. And there ain’t no shame in that.

Since we added our new little one to the world last May, I’ve been tired and in the trenches, and I’ve come to realize that motherhood is just this slow unravelling of beginning to let them go, bit by bit, little by little. First you are attached by creation, then you are attached as you feed and nurture them, then you can’t leave the room because they’ll roll, or move or get into something; then you drop them off for nursery school, put them on the bus to kindgergarden, send them off to camp, to high school, college, and ya, maybe we’re far from that right now in our house, but slowly, little by little I’m sending them off into the world; this stored-potential of a reaction that is setting off all these other events from now until when they grow and age and leave the planet in their own time. With their own wake of dust in their tracks.

So for now my peace is just sitting in the dust they stir up on the daily. I know it sounds idyllic,and trust me there are days I go into the basement and slam the door and scream in frustration (<— also sadly very true). But for now I’m here. And this, these two, they are my arrival.

My 3 F’s

By Marla Ticknor
In December of 2007, my husband got offered a job in Spokane, Washington that was too good to pass up. I was a Realtor in Arizona at the time so I put the house up for sale and the next weekend we got a great offer. We also found out that same weekend that I was pregnant with our very first child. The process began for our new little family to move from big city, sunny Arizona to a new life in a smaller city with four seasons, where I knew no one.

The moving transition went smooth & we knew we were meant to live here & start this new life. We had always hoped & planned that I would be able to stay at home should we have children. When we moved to Spokane, the transition made it possible & it did make the most sense. I wouldn’t know where to start or who to trust to watch our babies in a new city if I had to work. Pregnancy & birth went well & we were blessed with a healthy little girl, Grace Kay, in August 2008. I had no idea what I was doing as a Mom. I had really never been around babies much & they intimidated me tremendously. I felt like I lacked the nurturing instinct I saw so many other Moms had. I didn’t have much emotional support & wasn’t great at reaching out so I Googled a lot, actually, a ton. My mind was filling with all these opinions of what I should be doing & the kind of Mom I should be. The beginning of guilt, fear & depression was setting in. I found a little solace & normalcy in a Mommy & Me play date group & I joined the YMCA. Little Grace hated the Y. They would have to come get me after 15 minutes of being there. I tried daily for 2 weeks & she didn’t get much better. We bought a treadmill & I resorted to walking on it promptly at 1pm when she went down for her nap. I lost a good 25 pounds & was feeling a little better about myself. Time came for us to think about another child & it didn’t take long before little Olivia Ruth was born, March of 2011.

Once Olivia was born, I was struggling terribly with feeling ‘stuck’ at home. I also gained all that 25# back and then some. By the way, I was already about 30# overweight before having children thanks to our very active social & eating out lifestyle. Here I was feeling stuck now with 2 needy children & feeling fat & helpless on top of it. I was irritable daily. I lost my temper frequently over ridiculous things. Sometimes I hid in my closet & cried thinking it would be better if I wasn’t around. I would beat myself up constantly for not feeling nurturing, for not being a better Mom, for not being able to enjoy my kids. I hated myself. I would go into screaming fits over needing to take care of one of the kids’ needs, primarily my oldest who suffered the most. She was turning 3 & was throwing tantrums just like her Mom was. I didn’t know how to handle myself, let alone this crazy child! She was neglected emotionally in ways I hope we are able to laugh about once she’s older, but it still hurts. I was ugly; I can’t believe I lacked the empathy to pull it together.

One night my husband sat me down. He was firm. I knew it was hard for him. He courageously assured me he loves me but “you need help.” Worst words I ever heard. “YOU NEED HELP” You see, my Mom was diagnosed bi-polar from the time I was 2 years old. I saw extreme depression & extreme, abnormal manic episodes. By the time I was 12 years old, I felt I was emotionally starting to take care of her. I ran away & became a flight attendant at 19 years old, even though I had never even flown on an airplane before. I ran away from the drama, from the guilt of not being able to take care of or ‘help’ her, or my Dad for that matter. Mostly I ran away & lived a fun, adventurous life to avoid my deep fear that I would end up like her. But hearing “YOU NEED HELP” was like sending a huge message “You are becoming your Mom” I cried a river when I sat with the Nurse Practitioner. It was also so hard for me to just be there having to ask for help, I’m super prideful in that area. But I thank God for her to this day for being so supportive & encouraging. She assured me it’s common, all the hormones after pregnancy, lack of support & family around to help. My deep dark secret pain & fears of getting my mother’s illness were also adding to the stress. I was put on anti –depressants & slowly began a new journey.

I had to re-create myself. I was 38 with a baby & a toddler. I wanted so badly to be fit & feel good by the time I turned 40. I found a gym with an amazing childcare both girls loved. Olivia was around 13 months old at the time. I think I used the full 2 hours childcare allowed & would do whatever classes or equipment I could to just ‘get away.’ I was starting to feel better just having a place to blow off steam every morning. I treated my gym time like my job. I lost friends & social life because the gym became my focus. I came up with 3 F’s I focused on to help my personal growth & re-created self: Faith, Family & Fitness. I went to Bible studies & breathed in as much of the Good News I could. I’d soak in it. I became like a soul on fire with my Faith & my Fitness. The 2 worlds seemingly merged as I’d take on running challenges & weight gains & be learning these Bible verses that kept fueling my new passions: “1 Corinthians 9:24 Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” I was in my own zone, didn’t worry about anyone other than my family, & I knew I was already winning the prize. I was seeing & feeling results emotionally, physically & spiritually. I was on the right track.

I apparently was supposed to wean off the anti depressants slowly but I quit them cold turkey. It bugged me that I had to take medicine. While other friends on them seemed to be having issues weaning off them, I was doing great & started to feel more emotionally balanced. I attribute this to the consistent exercise & the focus on building my faith.

It’s been over 5 years that I have been living this lifestyle. Our girl’s are 9 and 6 now. I still focus daily on those 3 F’s that got me through it. I thought about adding a 4th F: Friends, but God has provided me even greater joy in that area. You see, because of my consistency to this routine, I have made both new friends at the gym & created a credibility that intrigues others to join me. It is so exciting to see their growth as well. I didn’t need to add that 4th F because it was already there in the process & it continues to this day.

Through places like my favorite gym, I am challenged to do exercises I didn’t think I could do. I remember 2 Timothy 1:7 “For God gave us not a spirit of fear, but one of power, love & self control” And simultaneously with overcoming the challenging exercises, God has also helped me overcome my fear of getting my mother’s illness through persistent self care & a grace & patience for myself I never had before. I cry more now out of compassion than out of anger or depression. I use any stored up anger for slamming the sledgehammer down on a tire or pushing myself extra hard during a workout. I get up, I show up & I work hard when I’m there. I’m a Phoenix that rose from the ashes of post partum depression but more pivotal than that, I stopped running away from a deeper fear of depression & told it to get the hell out of my life!

The journey will always continue & I will always evolve. I am careful not to Google for help or read articles on parenting or things I ‘should’ be doing. I surround myself with positive people and influences because Proverbs 27:17 “As Iron Sharpens Iron, so one person sharpens another.” If I want to grow & continue to re-train my brain out of that darkness, I need to surround myself with those that can influence me in that same direction, as well.

Keep in mind, my story doesn’t mean my kids don’t still drive me nuts or my past fears don’t still occasionally creep back in; however, I have found a healthier way to consistently cope with my emotions & re-train those negative thoughts. We will all still have bad days, of course, but all we can do is, get up, do our best, ask for help when needed, and most importantly, forgive ourselves if we screw it all up. If we’re lucky, God will give us another day to try again!

I’m Sorry, God, but You’ve Made a Terrible Mistake

By Lindsey Magner

When Bre asked me to guest post about my transition from one child to two, my response to her was “are you sure? It was pretty awful.” Because it was, y’all. It was so awful. And not just the first six weeks. My son screamed 6-8 hours a day for the first 5 months of his life, nursed fitfully and exclusively at night, and was ultimately diagnosed with a laundry list of medical conditions that took over a year to fully address. My husband started an extremely time-intensive and emotionally taxing job a few months prior to Caleb’s birth, went back to work 6 hours after he cut the cord and pretty much only came home to sleep for 18 months. My completely delightful first child trailed me like our dogs as I shushed and bounced and pleaded with her banshee-shrieking sibling. She heard little more than “in a minute,” “not now,” and “here’s another pouch—that’s only your eighth today, right?” I’m pretty sure I heard her call Daniel Tiger “daddy” one day. As for me…well…to be honest, I’m kind of shocked I didn’t hitchhike across the border and take up long-shoring in Nova Scotia.

The Universe is infinitely kind, however, and as any mother with a tough labor or colicky baby will tell you, gives us the gift of amnesia. That degree of sleep deprivation and stress acts as a sort of retroactive opiate. Like, I remember how much pain I was in at the time, but the edges are blurry, the details mostly gone. 

My umbrella memories are: 

1. Crying. Caleb’s, certainly, but also my own. My cheeks were raw and red for months from wiping the steady stream of salt-water that poured from my face, and I remember on several occasions Sadie exclaiming “oh NO, mama! Your eyes is running again.”

2. Doctor’s Appointments. I’ll spare you. There were a million of them. 

3. Helplessness and Despair. When your child is clearly suffering and no one can provide a
solution, it’s yuck-soup the likes of which you cannot even imagine. I swore at a nurse
once. Okay, twice. 

4. Praying. Less “i know there’s a reason for this, and I trust you, God,” and more “HELP ME
FUCKING NOW BEFORE I PUT THEM BOTH IN THE YARD,” but at least I was reaching out. Not claiming to be enlightened here, y’all. Just telling you how it was. 

Sadie had transformed into a toddler seemingly overnight. I knew how fleeting infancy
was, and how soon Caleb would be walking and talking. But there are literally zero instances in which I “wished for time to stop,” and all of that preemptive nostalgic heartache we talk about as mothers. I just wanted the shit-show to be over. My “silver-lining” mantra for an entire calendar year was “it could be worse: at least it’s not cancer. ” And that’s not something I want to lovingly ink into a baby book (which I do not have, by the way). Do I grieve the fact that my son’s infancy was one of the darkest seasons of my life? Yes. Do I lie to myself and pretend that it wasn’t so? I do not. Because the thing about dark seasons is that as they leave us, they provide a lens of perspective through which Life is seen anew. New, clear, and alight with a beauty almost impossible to describe. 

Caleb will be two next month. He has ear-tubes and some food allergies, but he’s otherwise a perfectly healthy, happy toddler. One might think I’d love him less after what we walked through, but I assure you, the opposite is true. I look at him and think “holy ever-loving LORD, you’re the best human ever.” We all feel that way—even Sadie. As I write this, Caleb is sitting stark-still as she puts every hair bow she owns into his crazy curls. Their bond gets stronger and more complex with each passing day. There are things they give each other that neither me nor Sheldon can impart, and watching their friendship grow is one of the great joys of my life. 

My transition from one child to two broke me into a hundred pieces. That’s just the truth. The thing about being in pieces though? When you’re broken that completely, you can’t even begin to pretend to be whole anymore. You have to ask for help and slow down and prioritize. You have to let people see your vulnerability and ugliness and mess. And then comes The Gift: you get the opportunity to put your pieces back together. As I slowly climbed out of the mire, I noticed I was stronger, calmer, more sure of myself as a mother and as a human. I look back at that year and think, “HOW did I do that?” And then I get kind of tickled and excited. Because, know what? I DID. Our toughest day today is a cake-walk compared to an easy day a year ago, and I hold that knowledge close to me. I feel proud of myself and of our family and I feel so much gratitude. I have so much more to offer other mothers who struggle now than I did before Caleb, and I feel the meaning of “love without condition” in the marrow of my bones. Who’d’ve thought that a screaming baby could be the sagest of teachers? 
God’s kind of a badass that way.

Lets Taco ‘Bout it: It takes an army and a lot of courage.

This is another segment of LETS TACO ‘BOUT IT! I’m not CURRENTLY eating tacos but I will be eating vegan tacos, tonight. I found a recipe on Pinterest that looks so good and I need it. Because, tacos are my main food source and because its taco Tuesday and because I would not have life if it weren’t for tacos.

Lets just get into… This one is hard. This one hurts to my core. This one has plagued my mind for weeks, now. I knew, eventually, I was going to write about this…. I just hadn’t really felt ready to do so until now… and even still, there is much hesitation. We’re talking about grief. We’re talking about the courage it takes to accept the loss of a loved one. We’re talking about our culture and grief. We’re talking vulnerability. (3 of my besties are vomiting in their mouths after reading the word “vulnerability.” LOVE YOU GIRLS!) I’ll be very surprised if even 1 person makes it through this post. Talking about death is so uncomfortable to so many people yet its inevitable for every single one of us.

I tell my friends and family and past clients that life is not worth living unless you’re vulnerable and honest with the people you love. I tell people they can’t hold tightly to things that have happened to them: “you have to let go to move forward.” One of my favorite things to remind others, and myself, of, is that our past doesn’t define who we are but it definitely molds us. I know all the right things to say to people when they come to me for advice and I know how to be an empathetic, compassionate person to confide in. Its a very rewarding thing to be someone that your friends and family trust to help heal. What is strange to me is that its impossible for me to be that person with myself. Since Matt’s passing, I’ve been closed off and angry. I’ve held tightly onto him and his spirit in fear of accepting my new reality without him. I’ve been really, really good at compartmentalizing my life so I don’t have to deal with his loss. (For those who don’t know, Matt is my youngest brother on my dad’s side. He passed away on New Years Eve 2015 to a motorcycle accident.) Even just typing those 2 sentences puts a lump in my throat. To be honest, it still doesn’t feel real… and I hope it never does. In order to move forward, I know eventually I will have to accept that he is really gone. I’m working towards doing that with future counseling and hypnotherapy appointments. I’ve been stuck in my emotions for the past few months and its really effecting my personal life.

In other cultures, communities rally together to bring meals, offer support and prayers to people who are suffering the loss of a loved one. In America, you’re given 3 days bereavement from work and you’re not supposed to talk about it ever again. Its pretty crazy to me how many people are so uncomfortable with death that even the people you think truly care about you will turn their head or change the subject when its brought up. I say it takes an army to move through this because it does! My husband is an amazing support system. I am beyond grateful for his loving understanding and endless grace through this difficult time. I’m blessed to have my aunt who I can confide in every day with no judgment and ultimate acceptance. But, it hasn’t been enough to have immediate family to talk with. In my opinion, seeking professional help is the best thing you/ I can do to start to heal. I’m blessed with the fact that Matt was in the Army when he passed away. There is an organization that helps survivors of soldiers with support groups, seminars, free counseling and so much more. Do me a favor… if you know someone who is dealing with grief, reach out to them. BE VULNERABLE with them and allow that person to be vulnerable with you. It takes a lot of courage to make a phone call, schedule a coffee date or even send a text to someone that is hurting and it is powerful to both parties.

I wanted to share this so others can help to heal. I wanted to share this because I have felt guilty around my inconsistency on my blog. I have PTSD related anxiety since Matt died and some days I don’t even want to get out of bed. I wanted to share this because I think our world needs to be more vulnerable. I’m sharing this because we HAVE TO be gracious with the people who have lost someone. Its part of the bigger picture. I’m sharing this because its not just about me… Its about all of us, coming together in understanding. Last week, one of my friends said to me”I believe God takes the good ones first to remind us how to live our lives like they did.” That sentence has been replaying in my mind repeatedly and I’m hoping that it continues to bring motivation to my life. I can’t stay stuck. Its not an option for me or my family.

Please feel free to share your story with me. If you have suggestions on how to get unstuck, I’m open to anything. I recently started doing yoga again and started a new meditation series. I’m trying, guys. 🙂

Thank you for reading!

May your day be full of love and laughter.






Lets Taco Bout It: Body Shaming

“You’re imperfect, and you’re wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging.” -Brene Brown

In the last two days, I’ve started reading The Power of Vulnerability by Brene Brown. I’m 13 Chapters in and can already feel a shift in my energy. I’m thankful for people like her who are willing to research, talk and write about the things that are uncomfortable. Things that you “aren’t supposed to talk about.” These things are the things that inspire change! I want to start a series on this blog called “Let’s Taco Bout It!” So that we can bring some fun and lightheartedness to things that we’re “not supposed to talk about.” (And, I’m going to be eating taco related things whilst writing these segments. I’m currently cooking Taco Soup and GIRLLLLL…. Its delicious.)

Today will be the first segment in this series and it will be dedicated to BODY SHAMING! I capitalize this with GREAT frustration in this area. My thoughts around this topic are kind of scrambled due to immense anger and agitation. From the time I got pregnant, and still to this day, people think that its okay to make comments on my weight. I’ve heard “eat a hamburger,” “get some meat on those bones,” “your baby needs more calories,” “you don’t eat enough,” “that’s not healthy,””you’re skin and bones,” etc. During my pregnancy, I felt so much guilt for not being able to put on weight that I would stuff myself until I was so uncomfortable that it was hard to move. I tried so desperately to put on weight, especially towards the end, and it was almost impossible. I only gained 16 pounds during my pregnancy and I felt so guilty everyday because of it. My doctor assured me that I was healthy and the baby was healthy but, still, I could hear people’s comments replaying in my head, all day. This made for a not so happy pregnancy and I regret ever allowing myself to feel like that.

When I first started breastfeeding, I lost all of my baby weight and MORE which to some people seems ideal. However, this is not where I feel healthy. Being this skinny doesn’t make me feel good, nor is it where I want to be with my body. I’ve tried so many different things to gain weight: muscle classes, yoga programs, eating 3000 calories a day, a body building program designed specifically for me, protein shakes and NOTHING has worked. I have plateaued in my weight which I’m thankful for because I’m not losing anything anymore. Breastfeeding burns anywhere from 300 to 500 calories in a day! There are so many women who have told me that they battled with this same situation, too.

I digress. Explaining my situation isn’t the purpose of this blog. The purpose of this blog is to STOP body-shaming other people. Some people like being this skinny, some people like being super bulky with muscles, some people like being curvy and some people don’t care what their body looks like. Lena Dunham has always been such an inspiration to me around body image. She is so authentically herself and such a nudist and I totally dig that life.

Your mission today is to write down something you love about yourself. You can share it in the comments bar or keep it personal. Stop making comments on other people’s image. Its not YOUR body so its not YOUR place to comment on it.

Have you experienced rude or hurtful comments around your body? How has that effected decisions you make? If there is one thing you could go back and say to the person who made that comment, what is it?

The one thing I would say/ do to the people who have made comments on my body is hug them. I believe that people make comments that are hurtful because they’re hurting. So, I would offer a hug and tell them that they’re perfect.

Lastly, I want to say, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! You are perfect in the way that you’re feeling right now whether you think its good or bad. You are right where you need to be and you have the power to become anything you want!

May your day be full of love and laughter!



Be brave. Get angry. DO SOMETHING!

I don’t really know how to start this. I don’t really know if I can articulate exactly how I’m feeling. All I know, right now, is that I feel compelled to do SOMETHING! I’m writing this in hopes that even just ONE person who reads this does something with me. I’ll probably forget to say some things, I might have to edit and re-edit this to make sure that I get my point across. I’m not big into politics. Until recently, I have never really even paid attention to elections or props or who my senator was… but, this is about more than just politics. This is about more than just elections. This is about the human experience.

Let’s just get into this…

Saturday morning, I woke up to find out about the loss of Christina Grimmie and how her brother attacked the shooter. It is truly heartbreaking to hear of such a vicious attack. My heart goes out to her brother and her family but especially her brother. It is one thing to lose a sibling, but to lose them right in front of you would be the hardest thing in the world. I pray and pray for their family right now!

Sunday morning was welcomed with an emotional roller coaster after hearing about the shooting at Pulse in Orlando. This attack has left me absolutely speechless. I’m sad. I’m scared. I’m confused. My mind can’t fully grasp what has happened. This attack was more than an attack on Latinos,(the media hasn’t mentioned much of this but it was Latin night at Pulse) more than an attack on the LGBTQ+ Community, more than an attack on America! As Lady Gaga said, “this is an attack on humanity itself! This is an attack on everyone!” Since Sunday, the only thing I can think is how badly I want to and HAVE TO do something. For the victims, for the family, for my LGBTQ+ community and for every single person on the planet. My heart has been hurting so bad for our country, for our people. I wish I was in Orlando to help more. I wish I had a louder voice. I wish this world wasn’t such a scary place. If you’re hurting from this, I want to hug you! If you’re not effected by this, I feel bad for you and want to hold you tighter! Right now, we need to do something. Right now, you can donate money, you can donate blood, you can pray, you can call your senator, you can sign the petition for common sense gun laws. You have to do something and you CAN do something!

Sign the Petition for Gun Violence Prevention

Call Your State Senator and Demand Action

A couple YouTubers that I adore have spoken out about Orlando and what you can do. Go watch Tyler Oakley and Hannah Hart speak out: Tyler Oakley’s Video and Hannah Hart’s Video. They also have links to action you can take to make a change in our country. What we are doing is NOT working! We have to do more!

I pray for the families of the victims. I pray for the people who are still fighting for their lives. I pray for Orlando. I pray that the media allows these people to grieve and heal in peace. I pray that something changes.

Compassion, love and CHANGE are 3 things that we need to stay focused on today and every day moving forward. It is unacceptable that our churches, schools, movie theaters, clubs, etc are being attacked when these are the places we go to enjoy ourselves, feel safe and be happy! We have to do something. YOU CAN DO SOMETHING!

We are all so deeply connected. You must know this. I am you and you are me. We are humans, connected to one another, forever.

May your day be full of love and laughter.