A Brutally Honest Look At Why I Loathe This Time of Year
I hate the precipitous end of the season. It feels like a punch to the throat. Why can’t we gradually ease back into all of this? Like a leisurely Sunday drive?
Teaching Kids to Attract More of What They Want and Less of What They Don’t
My parents used to tell me when I was a teenager that I was “an asshole magnet,” which meant that I attracted all kinds of low-life, ill-intentioned young men into my life. That happened over and over again because I was vibrating at a frequency that attracted those particular individuals…
He: An Open Love Letter to My Husband
I don't publicly talk about my marriage very often. I consider it to largely be a private affair; something special and intimate. It's not a part of my life that is up for scrutiny or public opinion. But, today I'll open up just a smidge. You see, it is our 15th...
How They Talk to Themselves
So why is it again that there isn’t room in most curricula for this kind of character/confidence building class + education? Our children desperately need it, and the parents should be advocating for it at every possible opportunity. It is time we taught children HOW to think, not WHAT to think….
For Every Single Parent on the Face of the Earth
Some of this letter and the outpouring of emoticons, emphasis, and exclamation points can be categorized as typical ego-driven, melodramatic ‘tween kinds of stuff. I remember those days when all of your senses tend to be magnified as hormones make their erratic and powerful presence felt…
This Hits Way Too Close to Home
I grew up IN Boston. So did my parents. Not in a suburb of Boston, but in the city itself. So the enormity and gravity of this tragedy hits way too close to home. I am pretty certain that when they eventually do my autopsy they will find bits and pieces of the Boston Bruins, Fanueil Hall, The Public Garden, Fenway Park, The Boston Harbor, the Esplanade, and the Charles River firmly entrenched in my DNA. We’ve pahked our cahs in Hahvahd yahd (figuratively, but not literally, because it is damn near impossible to actually park anywhere near there). I have always loved the freakin’ dirty water everyone sings about in that iconic song. My grandfather was a firefighter in Boston. We cheer for the hometown teams and I bleed black and gold for the Boston Bruins…
The Meaning Behind the Ink
Big news: I got a tattoo this month. It has been something I have wanted for at least a couple of years. So many people don't think I am a "tattoo person" -- not sure exactly what that means. If it means that up until this point in my life I never had a tattoo, then...
Contemplating a Name Change
I've been chipping away at my Self Esteem Through Art initiative for a while now. I've had the privilege of working mostly with girls and women (with a couple boys sprinkled throughout the program). I've done local after-school programs. Run summer camps. Done...
Top Tips for Helping Your Children Soar
This is definitely not a time to project your fears and insecurities onto them. Maybe you have a hard time standing up for what you believe in, but don’t rob them of their truths because you are not yet comfortable enough to live up to yours…
If A Soul Cries in the Woods, Does It Make a Sound?
The oak tree that thrives on loving and improving lives and giving so, so many gifts to others has taken one too many whacks from that axe and they come in such rapid succession that it has been difficult to give the bark and the delicate pulp time to heal in between…
Our Souls Fly at Half-Staff
My soul has been at half-staff ever since, and my heart continues to ache. As people tend to do, we mourn in different ways. Our reactions are as varied as our DNA. Life is fragile and precious, but oftentimes it takes a large-scale tragedy to remind us of that. There was ONE shooter on Friday, but there were COUNTLESS heroes. I have faith in the heroes.
One Nation? Indivisible?!
As I write this to you today (with kind of a heavy heart), it would appear that no we are not (one nation), and yes we are (divisible). I am not writing because I am unhappy with the results of the election (I’m not), or because I feel my voice didn’t matter (it did). I am writing to you because of the reactions I am seeing and hearing; because of how a group of purported intelligent, well-informed 21st century people, from the greatest country on Earth are responding….