Monday, January 22, 2018


This weekend Randi and I marched. We held our heads high. We carried our signs. We smiled. We laughed. We cried. We were humbled and strengthened all within a few hours.

Women's March 2018 took place this past weekend on a beautiful, sunny Sunday. We took a Lyft to the capital and joined the roughly 20,000 moms, sisters, daughters, dads, brothers, sons, friends...human beings. 

One of the first things we saw was a large group of Native Americans. Some had driven hours to be there that morning. They performed beautiful dances wearing stunning costumes, but more importantly, they were there to have a voice. They were there to remind us of the large statistic of abused Native American women. They were there to educate and strengthen the rest of us. Some wore t-shirts with the words "I am not a mascot" printed on them.  Powerful.

{Side note - they are the only non-immigrants living in this country, yet they continue to have land taken from them and are grossly disrespected}.

It was such an incredible day. Everyone was warm and friendly. The crowd was filled with grandmas, students, men, women, Hispanics, African Americans, Muslims, LGBTQ, kids...kind souls everywhere you looked.

And the streets and park where people gathered were clean. As Randi and I were leaving we both commented how clean it was. Trash was in the trash cans. There were no signs, fliers, food wrappers, etc. thrown on the ground. Nice group of gatherers.

There were so many great signs. Some of my other favorites:

  • "Obama, when are you coming back? This babysitter is weird!"
  • "If my uterus could shoot out bullets it would have less regulations."
  • "My body my choice!"
  • A picture of Trump with the caption - "This could have been prevented with one condom."
  • "I would call Trump a c*nt - but he lacks depth and warmth."

And...the other side of my sign. Love is love. That's it. It all boils down to those three words.

I am so grateful for the freedom to participate, protest, resist. I'm even more grateful to have spent this experience with my beautiful, amazing daughter. She inspires me daily. She is a strong, brilliant woman and I am proud to call her my daughter and friend.

I'm a lover not a fighter...a middle child...always wanting to keep the waters calm. Sometimes it's hard for me to be vocal and tell people how I feel {especially if it differs from them}. I don't want to hurt their feelings or for them to think differently of me.
But. Enough is enough! I can't sit back any longer and politely smile while someone tells me how great Trump is or how we need to get immigrants out or how women just need to "suck it up" and get thicker skin. {My stomach turned while I typed that...imagine how I feel when someone is telling these things to my if I agree}.

Call me a snowflake. Say I wear my heart on my sleeve...a bleeding heart. It's true. I will own it.
You can also call me a strong woman. An educated woman. An empowered women.

"I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept."