Category: Inspiration

Inspiration

The Informed Choice: What No One Tells You About Staying Home

Reba Nietert

When I first chose to stay home with my babies, I thought I was making the best, most loving decision for my family. I was educated, informed, and determined to give my children the care and presence I never wanted to outsource. But what nobody tells you—what no one warns you about—is the invisible contract you’re signing when you make that decision. And unless you sit down and have a brutally honest conversation with your significant other, you may find yourself in a position you never intended: servitude.

Let me be clear—I’m not talking about the joy of raising your own children or the privilege of being there for their first steps, their giggles, and their scraped knees. I’m talking about the *other* job description that comes with “stay-at-home mom.” The one that’s rarely discussed, but always expected.

When you choose to stay home, unless you draw boundaries and set expectations, you’re not just agreeing to childcare. You’re silently agreeing to every single household duty—inside and out. That means:

– All the cleaning, every day, top to bottom.

– Home maintenance, pest control, window washing, laundry, linens, towels, annual curtain cleaning, sofa scrubbing.

– Taking care of pets, organizing PTA meetings, volunteering at school, managing play dates and social calendars—for the kids, not yourself.

– Cooking dinner night after night, planning meals within a budget, and somehow making the money stretch.

– Managing the “allowed” income, often with no guarantee that anything left over is truly yours.

– And after all that, you haven’t even begun to address your own needs, friendships, or personal time.

The most insidious part? There’s no clocking out. It’s a 24/7 job. The minute you finish the dishes, someone dirties another. The laundry is never-ending. The sense of accomplishment is fleeting, if it ever comes at all.

I remember the days when I would schedule cleaning baseboards, prep dinner so it was hot when my husband walked in, have the kids bathed and in bed so all he had to do was eat, relax, and watch TV. My home was spotless, my children were cared for, and my partner’s only job was to recover from his day. If that’s the life you want, and it works for you—embrace it with gratitude. But make sure you know what you’re signing up for.

If you haven’t talked to your spouse or partner about who does what—about who handles the lawn, the dinners after 7pm, the late-night emergencies, the never-ending chores—you’re not making an informed decision. My advice? Write it all down. Decide together who’s responsible for what. Make room for your own time, your own needs, your own life.

Because here’s the truth: nobody in their right mind would sign up for a lifetime of servitude to someone who works an eight-hour job, unless they truly understood what that means. And for the women who do all of this *and* work outside the home? You are my heroes. I did it for 15 years, and it’s a different kind of stress—one that no one is prepared for until they’re living it.

So before you make your choice, talk. Plan. Write it down. Make sure your decision is truly informed. Because loving your family shouldn’t mean losing yourself.

Inspiration

This Isn’t a Scandal—It’s a Testimony

Reba Nietert

People love to throw your past in your face like it’s supposed to break you. But here’s the truth: I lived it. I cried through it, survived it, and—most importantly—I healed from it.

If you want the story, I’ll tell it myself, start to finish, and I’ll do it with no shame in my voice. Every mistake, every heartbreak, every lesson learned in the dark—those are chapters I’ve made peace with. I don’t run from my past; I own it. I’ve swept out the shadows and turned them into stepping stones.

So, if you came to drag me down, you might want to sit down and take some notes instead.  

Because this isn’t a scandal.  

It’s a testimony.

Every scar is proof that I survived. Every setback taught me something I needed to know. And every time I was counted out, I got back up—stronger, wiser, and more determined than ever.

You see, overcoming isn’t about pretending you’ve never struggled. It’s about standing tall and saying, “Yes, I’ve been through it. And I’m still here.”  

That’s not just survival—it’s victory.

So, here’s to everyone who’s made peace with their past and is unashamed to tell their story. Your journey isn’t something to hide. It’s something to celebrate.

Inspiration

Reflecting Troubling Human Behavior – Analyzing Intent

Reba Nietert

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on a troubling question: What gives individuals the perceived right to speak with cruelty, to pass judgment, or to wield unkindness as though it were a form of honesty or righteousness?

Is it the culture we’ve created—one that champions “speaking your truth” and “using your voice”—that has inadvertently given rise to a kind of emotional entitlement? Have we mistaken freedom of expression for license to express without restraint, reflection, or responsibility?

We live in an age where personal opinion is treated as sacrosanct, regardless of whether it is informed, empathetic, or constructive. Somewhere along the way, the collective dialogue has shifted. We no longer seem to ask: “Do I understand this person’s experience?” or “Is my voice adding clarity, or merely noise?” Instead, we react—quickly, loudly, and often, harshly—weaponizing our perspectives as a means of control, projection, or defense.

What troubles me most is this: When did we begin expecting others to mirror our values, our emotional responses, our timing, our way of being in the world? And more pointedly—when did deviation from our personal worldview become a reason for disappointment, or even offense?

There is a vast difference between authenticity and aggression, between truth and cruelty. To communicate without empathy, without lived understanding, is not courageous—it’s careless. And perhaps, at its root, it reflects more about the speaker’s unresolved pain than the subject of their critique.

We would do well to remember: Humanity is not a monolith. The expectation that others will move through life exactly as we do is not only unrealistic—it is a fundamental misunderstanding of what it means to be human. And when our differences become reasons for disdain rather than opportunities for curiosity, we all suffer a collective impoverishment of spirit.

Do better! Be better! (Myself included.) #selfawareness

Inspiration

The Heartbeat Between Visits: A Mother’s Grateful Reflection

Reba Nietert

There’s a quiet blessing in the closeness of grown children—  

Not the kind measured in miles,  

But in the gentle sharing of stories,  

The casual texts, the laughter over dinner,  

And the way they still let me peek into their worlds.

I am grateful for every moment they choose to share—  

For the late-night phone calls,  

The photos of new adventures,  

And the simple, “Love you, Mom,”  

That lands soft as a sigh at the end of a busy day.

Yet, even as I watch them stride into their own lives—  

Capable, clever, carving out their dreams—  

A mother’s worry lingers,  

A silent oversight,  

Hovering over their struggles and challenges,  

Wishing, sometimes, to shoulder the weight

Or to smooth the path ahead,  

Even when I know they must walk it themselves.

There are days when the house feels too still,  

The echo of their laughter fading between visits,  

And I am left with a quiet emptiness—  

A hollow shaped by memories  

Of rebellion and mismatched socks,  

Of tea parties with teddy bears,  

And race tracks built from matchbox cars  

Winding through the living room.

I remember the moments of exasperation—

The slammed doors, the stubborn glares—  

But more often, I recall  

The giggles over spilled tea,  

The sticky hands clutching mine,  

The bedtime stories and whispered secrets  

Shared in the hush of night.

There are regrets, of course—  

Words I wish I’d swallowed,  

Hugs I wish I’d held a little longer,  

But they are outnumbered  

By the moments that brought great joy:  

The pride in their first steps,  

The warmth of their sleepy heads on my shoulder,  

The unexpected “thank yous”  

That melted the hardest days.

Now, as I look back—  

My life feels cherished, blessed, fulfilled.  

I see the tapestry woven from  

Small kindnesses,  

Shared laughter,  

And the simple, enduring love  

That grows, even when we are apart.

My heart is full—  

Grateful for every visit, call, and memory,  

And for the privilege of being  

A mother, always.

Inspiration

When “Speaking Opinion” Turns Toxic

Reba Nietert

1. The Psychology of “Speaking Up” Without Adding Value

– Validation vs. Contribution:  

  When someone speaks up just to validate their own opinion—without offering new information, perspective, or support—they’re often seeking affirmation or visibility, not genuine dialogue. Psychologically, this can be tied to self-esteem, social belonging, or a desire for recognition.

– Social Identity Theory:  

  People sometimes speak up to signal group membership or align themselves with a perceived “in-group.” This can lead to echo chambers or repetitive commentary, especially online.

– Cognitive Dissonance:  

  If someone feels their views aren’t represented, they might speak up to reduce internal discomfort—even if their input doesn’t advance the conversation.

2. Knowing When to Be Quiet

– Active Listening:  

  Research shows that listening—especially in group settings—builds trust and increases the perceived value of your contributions when you do speak. Silence can be powerful; it shows respect and allows for deeper understanding.

– Conversational Maxim (Grice’s Maxims):  

  One of Grice’s conversational principles is “be relevant.” Speaking just to speak (without relevance) can be seen as self-serving or even disruptive.

3. What Does It Mean to Speak Without Benefit?

– Self-Validation:  

  If the only benefit is personal validation, it may be more about ego than community. This isn’t inherently negative, but if done excessively, it can be perceived as narcissistic or attention-seeking.

– Impression Management:  

  In some cases, people speak up to manage how others see them—projecting confidence, intelligence, or belonging, even if they aren’t adding value.

4. Modern Culture and “Speaking Up”

– Social Media Amplification:  

  Digital platforms reward visibility and “hot takes.” Algorithms often prioritize engagement (likes, comments), not substance. This encourages more people to speak up—even when it’s not constructive.

– Moral Outrage & “Keyboard Warriors”:  

  There’s a cultural trend toward public displays of outrage or opinion, often detached from face-to-face accountability. This can cross into gaslighting if used manipulatively or aggressively, especially when the goal is to dominate rather than dialogue.

– Gaslighting vs. Speaking Up:  

  Gaslighting involves manipulating someone to doubt their reality. While not all online outbursts are gaslighting, angry, performative “speaking up” can feel invalidating or coercive to others—especially when it’s more about venting than resolving.

5. Why Is “Speaking Up” Valued?

– Historical Context:  

  Speaking up has been critical for social change (think civil rights, whistleblowing). Culturally, it’s associated with empowerment and agency.

– Misapplication:

  The value of “speaking up” can get diluted when it’s used as a blanket justification for all commentary, even when it’s unhelpful or hostile.

Summary:  

Speaking up is valuable when it adds, clarifies, or supports. When it’s just for self-validation, it can be performative or even counterproductive. Digital culture sometimes blurs this line, rewarding noise over nuance. The healthiest communication balances speaking with active listening, and values quality over quantity. In short, if it’s not helpful, it’s best to be quiet.

Inspiration

A Poem, “I Am Enough.”

Reba Nietert

I once trembled at the thought of rejection,  

Until I learned the gentle art of never turning away from myself.

I once feared abandonment,  

Until I discovered the steadfast companion within—  

A presence that would never leave.

I once carried the weight of others’ opinions,  

Until I realized they were but whispers,  

No heavier than my own voice,  

No more powerful than my own truth.

I once mourned painful endings,  

Until I saw them for what they truly are—  

Secret doorways to beginnings yet unseen.

I once hid from the fear of seeming weak,  

Until I witnessed the quiet, unbreakable strength  

That lived in the marrow of my bones.

I once shrank beneath the idea of being small,  

Of being unimportant,  

Until I touched the vastness of my own spirit,  

And recognized the power that was always mine.

I once flinched at the thought of being called ugly,  

Until I learned to see myself with loving eyes—  

To honor the beauty that is uniquely my own.

I once dreaded failure,  

Until I understood it as a mirage—  

A lesson dressed in disguise,  

A teacher in the school of growth and grace.

I once despaired in my lowest moments,  

Until I realized they were fertile ground,  

The birthplace of brilliance,  

Where transformation quietly blooms.

I once resisted change,  

Until I embraced its wild, inevitable dance—  

A reminder that nothing is permanent,  

And every moment is a fleeting, precious gift.

I once feared solitude,  

Until I learned the joy  

Of my own company—  

The richness of being at home within myself.

I once doubted my uniqueness,  

Until I claimed it as my greatest gift—  

The wellspring of my singular greatness.

I once shuddered in the darkness,  

Until I remembered:  

I am the light.

And I once feared life itself,  

Until I remembered—  

I am life.  

I am possibility.  

I am enough.

Inspiration

Breaking the Mold: A Woman-Owned, Veteran-Led Approach to Home Watch in North Dallas

Reba Nietert

When you think of home services—especially those involving security, property inspections, and emergency response—most people picture a man showing up with a clipboard. It’s a stereotype that’s been around for decades, and it’s still surprisingly common. But at LoneStar Home Watch, we’re proud to do things differently.

Challenging Expectations in Home Services

As the owner of LoneStar Home Watch, I’ve seen firsthand that the world of property care and home inspection is still very much a “boys’ club.” Many clients—even those who support women in business—are initially surprised when they realize the person inspecting their home is a woman. Some even admit they’d assumed or preferred a man for the job, simply because that’s what they’re used to.

But here’s the thing: professionalism, attention to detail, and trustworthiness aren’t defined by gender. They’re built through training, certification, and a genuine commitment to client care. I am a certified Home Watch professional, and LoneStar Home Watch is only one of two accredited and certified companies in the Dallas metroplex. Our team brings expertise, reliability, and a personal touch to every vidual inspection—qualities that matter far more than outdated expectations.

Why Representation Matters

Having a woman at the helm of a home services business isn’t just about breaking industry norms—it’s about bringing a fresh perspective to client care. Women often bring a unique attention to detail, empathy, and communication style that helps build trust with our clients. I take pride in being approachable, thorough, and always available to answer questions or address concerns.

Our clients benefit from a service that’s not only professional, but also personal. We understand that letting someone into your unoccupied home is a big deal. That’s why we prioritize transparency, digital reporting with photos, and immediate communication—so you always know what’s happening with your property.

Proudly Veteran-Owned

LoneStar Home Watch isn’t just woman-owned—it’s also veteran-owned. Scott, my husband and business partner, is a proud veteran. His experience instilled in us both a sense of duty, discipline, and commitment to service. These values are at the heart of how we operate: with integrity, respect, and a mission-driven approach to protecting your property.

Setting the Standard for Home Watch Services

We know that trust is earned, not given. That’s why we go the extra mile to be A+ Accredited by the BBB, bonded, insured, and certified through NHWA. Our proprietary software ensures every inspection is confidentialy documented, and any issues are reported immediately—with photos and recommended actions.

We’re here to show that the best person for the job isn’t determined by gender, but by dedication, training, and a true passion for service. At LoneStar Home Watch, you get the best of both worlds: the expertise of a certified professional, and the values of a veteran-owned, family-run business.

Ready for peace of mind?
Contact us today for a flat-fee estimate and experience the LoneStar difference—where professionalism, trust, and care come standard, no matter who’s holding the clipboard.

Contact us today: 972-214-4720
Info@lonestrarwatch.com

Inspiration

Too Big for My Britches: Rethinking the Rules We Live By

Reba Nietert

In the six decades I’ve spent on this earth, I’ve heard the phrase “you’re too big for your britches” more times than I can count. It’s a phrase that, at its core, is meant to keep people—especially women—quiet, compliant, and small. It’s a way of saying, “Don’t draw too much attention. Don’t challenge the status quo. Don’t make anyone uncomfortable.”

The rules that come with it are familiar:  

– Don’t laugh too loud.  

– Don’t cry too hard.  

– Don’t speak up unless spoken to.  

– Forgive, forget, and never hold anyone accountable for how they make you feel.  

– Above all, don’t make waves.

When these unspoken rules didn’t keep me in line, I faced other consequences—distance, abandonment, or even outright hostility. The message was clear: tow the line, or else. Your value is only as much as your willingness to comply.

But here’s the thing: I’m tired of it. And I know I’m not alone.

Why Do We Accept This?

Why do we accept a world where one person’s comfort is valued above another’s authenticity? Why is it considered noble to shrink ourselves so others don’t have to face their own discomfort?

It’s easy to internalize these expectations, to believe that speaking up is the problem, that our feelings are “baggage,” that our voices are too much. But what if the real issue isn’t that we’re “too big for our britches,” but that the britches were never made to fit us in the first place?

The Courage to Challenge

It takes courage to question the rules you’ve been handed. It takes even more to refuse to play by them. I’m learning that honoring my own voice isn’t an act of rebellion—it’s an act of self-respect. And it’s something we owe not just to ourselves, but to those who come after us.

Imagine what would happen if we all stopped bowing to the opinions of those who want us small. What if we held space for each other’s voices, even when they challenge us? What if we measured our worth not by how well we comply, but by how authentically we show up in the world?

An Invitation to Reflect

This isn’t just my story—it’s a challenge to all of us. Next time you find yourself tempted to silence someone, or to shrink yourself for someone else’s comfort, pause and ask:  

– Whose rules am I following?  

– Who benefits from my silence or my compliance?  

– What would it look like to honor my own truth—and allow others to do the same?

Let’s be the generation that outgrows those too-small britches. Let’s encourage each other to take up space, speak up, and live fully—no matter who it makes uncomfortable.

Because real progress doesn’t happen when we all stay quiet. It happens when we dare to be heard. If that “triggers“ some, then so be it. Maybe they just need to look in the mirror. Maybe they’re not self-aware enough to know they’re part of the problem.

Inspiration

The Sunburn Catastrophe: A Weekend in the Big Easy

Reba Nietert

Ah, New Orleans for Easter Sunday. The land of jazz, beignets, and apparently, never-ending blisters. Never ending emergency sirens. Never ending abusively loud noise. Let me walk you through (pun intended) what was supposed to be a relaxing weekend getaway but quickly turned into a comedy of errors—complete with sunburns, stale bread, and the kind of exhaustion that makes you question every life choice.

Thursday Night: The Calm Before the Chaos

We rolled into town around 8 or 9 PM, starving but too tired to care. The hotel bed won the battle over dinner, and we called it a night. Little did I know, this would be the last moment of peace for the next 72 hours.

Friday: Fishing, Friendship, and Fried Knees

The alarm went off at 5:00 AM because apparently, vacations are for sleep deprivation. We headed out for a fishing trip, which was lovely… for the first five minutes. I spent hours bonding with Whitney, Sheldon’s new wife, while getting smacked around by the wind like it owed me money. Meanwhile, the guys lounged under the awning, oblivious to our slow descent into sunburned madness. By the end of the trip, my knees were scorched, my back ached from the boat’s relentless rocking, and all I wanted was a shower.  

But wait, there’s more! Dinner at Mr. B’s was supposed to be the highlight of the day. Instead, it was a symphony of stale bread, disappointing entrees, and an impromptu nine-block hike in heels because Scott apparently moonlights as a tour guide. By the time we got back to the hotel, I was blistered, sunburned, and officially over it.

Saturday: Lettuce, Leather Bars, and Bathroom Emergencies

Saturday started with a lovely visit to see Dave and Debbie—honestly, the highlight of the weekend. But then it was back to the hotel to prepare for another round of walking and dining. Dinner with Wayne and Cindy was fun, but the wedge salad? Let’s just say it was more “lettuce” than “salad.”  

And then came Bourbon Street. Oh, Bourbon Street. Picture this: me, fighting off a fish-induced stomach rebellion, being dragged from bar to bar while dreaming of a bathroom. The Montleone Bar finally gave me the relief I needed (bless their plumbing), and I made my escape back to the hotel, leaving Bourbon Street to the younger, more resilient crowd.

Sunday: Crawfish and Crawling to the Finish Line

Sunday brought a crawfish boil at Sheldon’s. The food was good, the company was better, but the sheer exhaustion of making small talk with strangers left me longing for my couch. By the time we hit the airport, my blisters had blisters, and my knees were still radiating heat like a bad sunlamp experiment.

The Verdict 

Sure, there were some lovely moments—catching up with friends, the crawfish boil, and the occasional laugh—but overall? I think I’ve outgrown the whole “city party” thing. Your dad’s not thrilled with me because he thinks we turned in at 8 PM every night (spoiler: we didn’t), but honestly, I’m okay with that. I came back sunburned, blistered, and with a newfound appreciation for my own bed.

So, New Orleans, thanks for the memories—and the blisters. Next time, I think I’ll just stay home.  

Moral of the Story: 

Sometimes, the best vacations are the ones where you don’t leave your zip code. And always, *always* pack sunscreen.

Inspiration

Finding Light in Life’s Winter Season: A Journey from Exhaustion to Hope

Reba Nietert

We’ve all been there – that bone-deep exhaustion that seems to seep into every corner of our lives. The endless cycle of work, family responsibilities, and trying to be everything to everyone while our own cup runs dry. It’s more than just being tired; it’s a soul-deep weariness that makes even our dreams feel heavy.

But here’s the thing about winter – it doesn’t last forever.

The Hidden Strength in Acknowledging Our Struggles

There’s incredible bravery in admitting when we’re tired, when the weight of unfulfilled wishes – that new car, that dream house, that little luxury we keep denying ourselves – becomes almost too much to bear. This acknowledgment isn’t weakness; it’s the first step toward renewal.

The Psychology of Resilience

Research shows that periods of exhaustion and feeling overwhelmed are actually natural parts of our growth cycle. Just as nature needs winter to prepare for spring’s renewal, our moments of depletion often precede our greatest breakthroughs. When we feel most drained is precisely when we’re building the strength for our next chapter.

Finding Your Light Switch

Consider this: What if your exhaustion isn’t just fatigue, but your soul’s way of demanding a reset? Here are some gentle steps to begin refilling your cup:

1. Embrace the Power of Micro-Joys: Find delight in small victories – those groceries you managed to buy, the warm bed you sleep in, the morning coffee that greets you.

2. Practice Gentle Boundaries: It’s okay to say no. It’s okay to rest. It’s okay to be unavailable.

3. Reframe Your Story: Instead of focusing on what you can’t afford or achieve yet, celebrate how far you’ve come and the resilience that got you here.

The Dawn After Darkness

Remember, feeling depleted doesn’t mean you’re failing – it means you’re human. And just like every winter eventually yields to spring, this season of exhaustion will give way to renewal. Your dreams aren’t pipe dreams; they’re seeds waiting for the right season to bloom.

Moving Forward

If you’re feeling overwhelmed, know that you’re not alone. Consider reaching out to professional support through resources like [BetterHelp](https://www.betterhelp.com) or [Psychology Today’s Therapist Finder](https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/therapists). Sometimes, having someone to talk to can be the first ray of light breaking through the clouds.

Your Invitation to Hope

Today, I invite you to be gentle with yourself. Acknowledge your exhaustion, but don’t let it define your story. You’re not just surviving; you’re gathering strength for your next chapter. The dreams that feel out of reach today are tomorrow’s reality in the making.

Remember: The same force that pushes flowers through concrete lives within you. Your winter season is just preparing you for an extraordinary spring.