Tag: Inspire

Human Interest

Embracing Change: Aging, Beauty, and the Real Conversation We Need

Reba Nietert

Cameron Diaz once captured a powerful truth, saying (and I’m paraphrasing here): “Why would I want surgery to change my face? It’s my face—I want to see it every morning.” That sentiment really hits home, especially as we all watch the years leave their mark.

Let’s be honest: aging is inevitable. Our faces change whether we like it or not. Jowls drop, bags form under our eyes, necks ripple, eyelids get heavier, and sometimes our brows settle into that infamous “resting” expression that hardly feels like us. The bright, youthful face we once knew slowly shifts, and when we run into old friends, their surprised looks remind us just how much time has passed—sometimes not as gracefully as we’d hoped.

And it’s not just our faces. Unless you’re hitting the gym religiously post-childbirth, most of us have a midsection that’s grown beyond what we swore we’d allow. Skin issues pop up, health problems creep in, and our hands—once strong and elegant—start to resemble a roadmap. If you’re a boomer, you might be all too familiar with hyperpigmentation taking over once-supple skin.

So when Cameron says to just let it come, maybe she’s onto something. Maybe we’d all be happier if we could accept these changes. But let’s be real—the billion-dollar beauty industry thrives on our insecurities. From Botox to deep-plane facelifts to procedures we never imagined, there’s always a doctor ready to cash in on our desire to turn back the clock.

It’s tough to resist, especially when celebrities—who aren’t always honest about what they’ve had done—tell us to “age naturally” while quietly using every tool in the kit. Then, they turn around and shame others whose cosmetic procedures didn’t go as planned. It’s a maddening cycle, putting so much value on our appearance when, truthfully, what our world needs most is a character overhaul.

Maybe it’s time to shift the conversation. Instead of focusing on fighting every wrinkle, let’s talk about what really matters: kindness, resilience, and the stories that make us who we are. After all, character never goes out of style.

Journal Entry

Why Forced Accountability in Relationships Doesn’t Work: A Clinical Perspective

Reba Nietert

In healthy relationships, genuine accountability is essential for trust and long-term satisfaction. However, when responsibility is demanded or coerced, the results are often superficial and unsustainable. Research in clinical psychology and relationship science supports the idea that authentic change and remorse must come from within—not from external pressure.

The Pitfalls of Forced Responsibility

When one partner tries to force the other to take responsibility for their actions, it may lead to temporary compliance, but rarely to meaningful change. Studies show that externally motivated apologies or admissions of guilt are often shallow and lack the emotional engagement needed for true growth (Baumeister et al., 1994). In fact, coerced accountability can increase resentment and defensiveness, ultimately harming the relationship further (Finkel et al., 2002).

Authentic Accountability and Empathy

True accountability arises when an individual recognizes the impact of their actions and feels genuine empathy for their partner’s experience. According to Dr. Harriet Lerner, a clinical psychologist and author, “A heartfelt apology is one that doesn’t require prompting, demands, or reminders. It comes from the recognition of the hurt caused and a desire to repair the relationship” (Lerner, 2017).

When someone truly values the relationship, they are internally motivated to make amends. This kind of self-driven accountability is associated with greater relational satisfaction, trust, and long-term stability (Gottman & Silver, 1999).

The Burden of Carrying Guilt for Others

It is not your responsibility to carry the emotional weight of another person’s guilt or to repeatedly prompt them to acknowledge their mistakes. Research indicates that when one partner assumes the role of “reminder” or “enforcer,” it can lead to emotional exhaustion and diminish self-esteem (Fincham & Beach, 2007).

Why Sincere Change Must Be Voluntary

For apologies and behavioral change to have real value, they must be voluntary. Forced or scripted apologies often lack sincerity and do not lead to lasting behavioral improvement (Baumeister et al., 1994). Genuine change requires self-reflection, empathy, and a willingness to repair the harm caused.

What You Deserve in a Relationship

You deserve a partner who takes responsibility because they care—not because you demanded it. Healthy relationships are built on mutual respect, honesty, and voluntary accountability. If someone is unwilling or unable to take ownership of their actions on their own, it may be a sign that they are not ready for the kind of partnership you need and deserve.

Let Actions Speak

Ultimately, allow your partner to show who they truly are. If responsibility isn’t something they choose voluntarily, then their words and actions will likely remain surface-level. As Dr. John Gottman notes, “The willingness to repair and take responsibility is what separates the masters from the disasters of relationships” (Gottman & Silver, 1999).

References:

– Baumeister, R. F., Stillwell, A. M., & Wotman, S. R. (1994). Why would you do that? A psychological analysis of interpersonal forgiveness. *Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 76*(3), 482-498.

– Finkel, E. J., Rusbult, C. E., Kumashiro, M., & Hannon, P. A. (2002). Dealing with betrayal in close relationships: Does commitment promote forgiveness? *Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 82*(6), 956-974.

– Gottman, J. M., & Silver, N. (1999). *The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work*. Crown.

– Lerner, H. (2017). *Why Won’t You Apologize? Healing Big Betrayals and Everyday Hurts*. Touchstone.

– Fincham, F. D., & Beach, S. R. H. (2007). Forgiveness and marital quality: Precursor or consequence in well-established relationships? *Journal of Positive Psychology, 2*(4), 260-268.

Journal Entry

Chaos, Coffee, and Canines: A Morning on the Road

Reba Nietert

Traveling with dogs should come with a disclaimer: “Warning—may cause extreme chaos, laughter, and moments of pure panic.” Take this morning, for example. Picture it: 5:15 AM, a pitch-black hotel room, and two high-octane pups staring at me like I’m their personal sunrise. Thanks, time zone switch—you really know how to keep a girl on her toes.

I’d barely opened my eyes before both dogs were vibrating with excitement, ready to launch into their own version of the Indy 500 around our 500-square-foot hotel room. I’m tiptoeing around, trying to keep things quiet, but every paw thump and tail wag echoes like we’re rehearsing for Stomp. The suspense? Will we wake up the entire floor before sunrise? Odds are not in my favor.

Once I’m wrangled into my clothes, it’s time for the next challenge: the great outdoors. Except, plot twist, it’s been raining so hard I’m half-expecting to see a pair of giraffes lining up outside. The parking lot has become a small lake, and I’m wading through puddles like a contestant on a reality show—Survivor: Hotel Edition—just to reach the grass.

The dogs, of course, are living their best lives, zooming across the soggy grass with reckless abandon. I’m just trying to keep them from breaking the sound barrier or the property line. Photos are snapped, business is done, and I’m thinking, “Surely, the worst is over.” (Spoiler: it’s not.)

Time to head back in. Remi, my youngest, launches at the door like he’s auditioning for America’s Got Talent. Dakota, the elder stateswoman, tries to beat me inside—only to get her toe caught under the door. Suddenly, the scene turns into a canine opera: Dakota screeching, leashes flying, and me—somewhere between tears and laughter—trying to keep both dogs from reenacting a prison break.

At one point, Remi is locked inside, Dakota’s outside wailing, and I’m juggling leashes, guilt, and the creeping suspicion that I’m about to be evicted. I manage to calm Dakota, get everyone back inside, and—miraculously—no lasting damage. Remi, ever the good boy, is still tethered and waiting patiently. The dogs are loaded into the car, and I finally get a moment to chase down the holy grail: coffee. All this before my first cup. Send help.

Meanwhile, my phone is buzzing with texts from my husband and daughter, worried about my eye issue (which, by the way, is still a thing). I’m grateful for the love, but how do you even begin to explain this dog-fueled circus before breakfast?

And, of course, I still haven’t finished the contract I promised to send last night. I was so exhausted when we checked in at 11 PM that I collapsed face-first onto the bed. Now, I’m staring down a four hour drive to the airport to pick up the hubby and then another two-hour drive, running on empty, praying I can hotspot my laptop and work while my husband drives us home. 

But hey—dogs are fine, I survived, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get that coffee before the next episode of “Traveling with Dogs: Chaos Unleashed.” 

It’s not even 8 o’clock a.m. yet!

—

Have you ever had a travel morning like this? Share your funniest (or most suspenseful) pet travel stories below—bonus points if they involve coffee deprivation!

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.

Human Interest

Confessions Before Forgiveness – A Real Story, Real Pain, Received & Given.

Reba Nietert

I settled into a beautiful therapist’s room—soft light, a welcoming couch, a sturdy chair, a credenza adorned with thriving succulents. This time, my therapist was a man. He sank into his reclining chair and, after a moment’s pause, asked gently, “What brings you here?”

I answered honestly: “I can’t seem to feel joy.”

As I unraveled the tangled threads of my life, he listened quietly. Then he asked one question that stopped me cold: “When was the first time you felt love from a man?”

I searched my memory and finally replied, “When I was 27. I had hurt someone deeply—taken his money, mirrored the ways men had treated me, and lied through our entire friendship. Yet, when I confessed, he looked at me with a tenderness I had never seen. ‘I love you,’ he said, ‘but I can’t have you in my life. You’re toxic.’ It was in that moment I realized the toxicity was mine to own. But it was his eyes—filled with pain and love—that pierced me. For the first time, I understood men could love, too.”

The therapist looked at me and said, “You do realize I’m a man, don’t you?” I nodded, a little uncertain. He continued, “You do realize that you hate men, don’t you?”

I sat in silence, the weight of his words settling over me. Here was someone trained to see beneath the surface, naming truths I hadn’t dared utter. Forgiveness—for myself, for others—would take years. The wounds inflicted by men’s actions, the demands, oppression, domination, slander, and judgment, still haunted me. I worked tirelessly to free myself from those patterns, but it unsettled me how often men around me failed to see women as equals—in friendship, in marriage, in sisterhood, in motherhood. I found myself asking: Why does this systemic entitlement, this pattern of male oppression, persist?

The roots of systemic male entitlement and oppression run deep, woven into the fabric of society over centuries. Historically, patriarchal systems have shaped laws, customs, and cultural narratives, positioning men as default leaders and decision-makers, while relegating women to supporting roles. These patterns are perpetuated through:

– Socialization: From a young age, boys and girls are taught different expectations—boys to lead, girls to support. This is reinforced in schools, media, and even family dynamics.

– Institutional Structures: Many institutions (legal, religious, economic) have long favored men, making it difficult for women to gain equal footing.

– Cultural Narratives: Stories, myths, and media often reinforce male dominance and female subservience, subtly shaping beliefs about what is “normal” or “natural.”

– Power Dynamics: Those in power are often reluctant to relinquish it, consciously or unconsciously resisting changes that would create true equality.

Change is happening, but slowly. It requires not just policy shifts, but deep self-reflection—by individuals and by society as a whole. It’s about unlearning old narratives, listening to one another’s pain, and intentionally building relationships rooted in respect and equality.

Questions a Man Can Ask Himself

1. How do I respond when a woman sets a boundary or disagrees with me?

2. Do I listen to understand, or do I listen to respond or defend myself?

3. Am I aware of the ways my words or actions might make a woman feel unheard or dismissed?

4. Have I ever assumed I know what’s best for a woman, rather than asking her opinion or respecting her choices?

5. When was the last time I asked a woman about her experiences with gender bias or inequality—and really listened?

6. Do I expect praise or special treatment for doing things considered “basic” in a partnership or friendship?

7. Am I comfortable showing vulnerability and admitting when I’m wrong, especially to women?

8. Do I ever catch myself interrupting, talking over, or minimizing a woman’s perspective?

9. How do I react when a woman succeeds or takes the lead?

10. Do I seek out women’s expertise and leadership in my professional and personal life?

Courses of Action to Reframe Thinking & Build Connection

– Practice Active Listening:

  Focus on listening without planning your response. Let her finish her thoughts and ask clarifying questions before reacting.

– Embrace Vulnerability:  

  Share your own feelings and uncertainties. Expressing vulnerability builds trust and shows you value emotional depth.

– Educate Yourself:  

  Read books, articles, or take courses about gender equality, emotional intelligence, and healthy communication. (Brené Brown’s work, “The Will to Change” by bell hooks, and Esther Perel’s talks are great starting points.)

– Challenge Assumptions: 

  Notice when you’re making assumptions about what women want, need, or feel. Instead, ask open-ended questions and invite her perspective.

– Support and Celebrate:  

  Uplift women’s achievements and ideas, both privately and publicly. Step back when appropriate and let women lead.

– Reflect on Power Dynamics:  

  Consider how your actions or words might reinforce old power structures. Aim to create space for equality and mutual respect.

– Apologize and Adjust:  

  If you realize you’ve messed up, own it without defensiveness. Apologize sincerely and ask how you can do better.

– Seek Feedback:

  Ask women you trust for honest feedback about how you show up in relationships and be open to constructive criticism.

– Model Respect:

  Speak up if you hear other men making derogatory or dismissive comments about women, even when it’s uncomfortable.

– Invest in Growth:

  Commit to ongoing self-reflection and growth. Growth is a journey, not a destination.

The point is, it’s important to learn, grow and improve with women you are in a relationship with. In the same direction. It’s important to be positive. It’s important to encourage. It’s important to affirm, because if you don’t do all of these things, you could find yourself very alone.

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.