We grow up dreaming about love. The kind we’re told will sweep us off our feet, fill the empty spaces, and last forever. We imagine romance, partnership, and someone choosing us every single day. But no one really prepares you for the love of being a mom. It doesn’t arrive with grand gestures or perfect timing. It arrives quietly, wrapped in responsibility and awe, and somehow becomes the strongest love you will ever know. It’s the kind of love that rewrites you—mind, body, a

My I said what I said blog usually waits until Friday—but this one couldn’t. I’m too mad. Too frustrated. Too tired of watching the same ugly patterns repeat themselves while people pretend nothing is wrong. Now let’s talk about the Super Bowl—because clearly, as a country, we are still refusing to learn. Somehow, in a nation that never shuts up about freedom, unity, and equality, we managed to do something wildly embarrassing: we segregated the Super Bowl. Again. Because a g

Time has a way of circling back to what the heart never truly releases. Some loves arrive quietly, leave gently, and return only after the soul has learned what it needs to hold them. Nick and Tabby’s story isn’t one of coincidence—it’s one of becoming, of seasons apart and the kind of love that waits patiently until both hearts are ready to meet again. Their story began six years ago in a way that felt almost accidental. A casual Facebook add. A shared post—one of Nick’s hea