Ahoy, South Padre Island!

 I want my boys to look at life as the great adventure that it is. 

So When we have a break from work and school and all of the things we have to do that finance our needs and make us responsible people, I want to go on as many adventures as possible. Be it big or small. So when I got the boys back after the new year, that's exactly what we did. None of us have been to South Padre Island so I decided we would go on a small sized adventure and explore it.  And comparing this road trip adventure to my solo one a couple of years ago that was much further away, I quickly learned that adventuring with kids is way more expensive. If I had enough assets to file bankruptcy on, I would probably need to. And it was all absolutely worth it.  

The day we arrived, we were greeted with 30 degree temps, 24 mph winds, and rain. And the breaker that ran one of the heaters in our cabin was out and needed to be completely replaced. Thankfully we were supplied with space heaters to get us through until the breaker was replaced. So we hunkered down and had indoor game night. If you have not played the game, Speak Out, I highly recommend going out and purchasing it immediately. So. Many. Laughs.

  

The next day was still chilly but dry, so we ventured out. Apparently South Padre Island is the sandcastle capital of the world and is home to the largest sandcastle in the U.S. We took note of the name of the guy who built said largest sandcastle, Andy Hancock, so we could look him up later.  We also learned that there are about 40 businesses that have smaller sandcastles throughout the island. So we got a list of who had the sandcastles, and went on a scavenger hunt. The boys had a great time and got so excited every time they found one.

This was just a cool wall painting that we saw during our scavenger hunt..

Piracy was the theme of a big chunk of our trip. It started when we ate at a restaurant on the pier that was a sister restaurant to another pirate themed restaurant. It stuck and we went with it for the rest of the trip.  

We ended the day watching this gorgeous sunset and then going for a night swim in the hot tub. The boys were crazy and went swimming in the pool also. I was not that stupid....er, I mean brave. I also learned that I should take the boys for a night swim from now on any time I want to get information from them. When I pick them up from school in the car and ask how their day was and what they did, I get something along the lines of, "It was good I guess." But in the hot tub, they told every stranger that was there our entire life story.  Either I need to invest in a hot tub, or I need to start bringing strangers with me to the school carpool line.

The sunrise was just as beautiful as the sunset. Excuse the swim trunks hanging out to dry from the previous night's hot tub swim.

Across the bridge at Port Isabel, there is a restored lighthouse you can go inside. So we did. And holy cow, the view was AH. MAZ. ING.  The sandcastle hunt was free and this was only $9 for the three of us, so I was still feeling pretty good about the cost of this trip too.

Fake pelican picture just for fun. We saw plenty of real pelicans too, which was cool. But we never saw them dive for food and show off their cool beaks that can hold 3 gallons of water, so that part was a bit disappointing.

Oh look! More pirate stuff! I think they make pretty decent pirates.

Open fires aren't allowed on the island but we could use this communal gas fire pit to roast s'mores. So that was cool. Then the boys headed to a playground for the important business of palm tree rock wall climbing and a friendly but semi-vicious game of tetherball. Logan may or may not have intentionally let himself keep getting hit by the ball. What can I say? He's a thrill seeker. Or a masochist. I'm really not sure which.

Did I mention the sunsets and sunrises were amazing? Because they were.

One thing I was really looking forward to was the possibility of seeing wild dolphins. Seeing them in Charleston had been a highlight of the trip and I wanted the boys to experience seeing them too.  I thought they might show up in the bay in front of our cabin, but towards the end of our trip, we still hadn't seen any. So the first large cost of the trip came when I booked a private tour to go out and see the wild dolphins. It was incredible and worth every penny. There were SO many of them out that day and we got to see a couple of them ride the wake in front of shrimp boat which was pretty cool. The boys also thought it was cool that we made it just 6 miles away from Mexico on the trip. These pics don't do any justice at all to what we actually got to see that day. On our last morning on the island, we finally saw a couple of dolphins in the bay by our cabin also, which was the perfect way to end the trip. I'm still not sorry I spent the money on a tour though. It just made it that more exciting whenever we spotted dolphins throughout the rest of the trip!

I personally enjoyed watching all of the birds in the mornings when the tide was low and they were out searching for food. One morning, the boys decided to feed the seagulls pieces of their leftover grilled cheese from lunch the previous day. I'm not sure if grilled cheese is an acceptable part of a seagull's diet or not, so hopefully there wasn't a group of dead birds on our patio for the next group of people that checked into our cabin.

One of the places we came across on our sandcastle scavenger hunt was a sea turtle hospital. We tried to go inside and visit but it was closed because the staff was out looking for stranded turtles that had been affected by the cold weather. Luckily we were able to go back a couple of days later when it warmed up some. It was pretty neat reading all of the stories about each of the turtles that were there.

And of course, more piracy! This was outside of the main pirate themed restaurant that we also ended up eating and spending way too much money at. Worth it.

We ended the trip by dropping some more dough on a pirate themed cruise. To board the ship, we had to walk down the longest fishing pier in Texas which was pretty neat. And long. We also saw more wild dolphins. Bonus. The signal to start boarding the ship was a cannon being fired and that alone pretty much made the boys' day. Aboard the Black Dragon Ship, the boys got to have sword fights, hear tall tales about pirates, go on an on-board treasure hunt, sing and dance to pirate songs, and we all got pirate mustaches painted on. It was so much fun and the boys said they will remember it forever. So again, it was worth every. single. penny.

After we debarked from the Black Dragon, we stopped for ice cream. The very kind Aussie that scooped our frozen treats told us we should take one of his flyers and check out his YouTube channel on sandcastle building. Turns out, he was THE Andy Hancock who built the largest sandcastle we had visited at the beginning of our trip! He complimented us on our awesome pirate mustaches and showed off his own pirate earring. Such a fun surprise for the boys. So of course we asked him for a picture.  

This truly was a trip I will always remember. Nothing outside of our lodging was planned when we first arrived. We just showed up and explored as we went, which was such a fun way to vacation. That's part of what made it feel more like an actual adventure. And we ended up seeing and doing so much! And sharing these adventures and memories with my 2 favorite people in the entire world made it worth everything. 

On the way home, we had to go through border control. Luckily, I still had my painted-on-very-realistic-looking pirate mustache so we made it through without any trouble. Maybe from now on I'll wear a mustache on every adventure.

A Word of Thanks

81 days ago, I confessed my depression spell to the public who reads this blog.  A lot can happen in 81 days and writing is therapeutic so it seemed like a good time to write a little more of my story. 

There are LOADS of people who showed up to offer me love during my dark depression days. But a few women especially stick out that I want to talk about. 

When I was still on Facebook, I wrote a post about my time as an office aid in the counselor's office my senior year of high school and how much the people in that office impacted my life. While I was still in relationship limbo after the wedding was called off but I was still trying to figure out if the entire relationship needed to end or be mended, my high school counselor that I had posted about messaged me on Facebook. She asked if she could call me. I said yes and sent her my number. And y'all, literally within 20 seconds of me hitting "send," my phone was ringing. This woman that I have not seen or spoken to in 15 years made no hesitation to reach out to me and speak life into me. It blew my mind. I won't divulge the entire conversation, but one thing that stood out (besides the fact that she even remembered me after all these years), was when I asked her if she was disappointed that I had let depression take hold of me and I wasn't the same bubbly, enthusiastic, joyful girl she once knew. And she told me, "I could never be disappointed. And Cassi, you ARE that same girl. I can hear it in your voice. She just needs to find her way back out, that's all." Those were the exact words I needed to hear in that moment -not that I COULD be that same girl, but that I was already STILL that girl -and I fell apart in complete gratitude for that woman. And then I called my mom and cried to her as I retold her the story. Because duh. I'm an emotional mess and that's what us emotional messes do.

It was also somewhere along that time frame that I mustered up all the strength I could to contact my old counselor who helped me through my divorce. It took everything I had to contact her again because I had been in a pretty good place when I quit seeing her a couple of years ago.  I didn't want to admit to her that I wasn't strong enough to STAY in that good place. That I was now in fact in a WORSE place emotionally than when I had seen her the first time around. But she too, expressed zero disappointment in my then current emotional state of being. I thought I needed all of the answers on how to handle my life situation right then and there -but she gave me permission to be in limbo. I needed that permission so much. I needed to hear that it was ok to take my time and make a prayerful, clear-headed rational decision instead of rushing into a decision that would have been based on fleeting emotions. And over our next several sessions, she used her own past experiences to speak more life and truth into me. She used her own story to give me the hope of something better in my story. And when things started looking up again, she was there to rejoice with me. She offered her love and prayers and I know she followed through with her promises to pray over me. The world needs more of her. 

And finally, my two best friends. There were a couple of nights during the months of my depression that I couldn't hold myself together and completely lost it. When I thought I might follow through with my desire to die. Jennie and Laura were the ones I called when that happened. They were the ones I trusted to let in all the way without any walls whatsoever and see me in my worst state. The ones I knew I didn't have to pull myself together for and be strong for. They didn't see it in person, but they definitely heard me when I was at my absolute very lowest. They didn't listen to me cry, they listened to me wail sobs of complete and total misery.  They heard me cry out for death. And then they met me in my need. They offered to do whatever it took to keep me alive. And they meant it. And then they offered words of wisdom and truth that nobody else was willing to tell me. Man, I love them.

I had two choices during my depression days: trust Jesus - or die. That was it. So as much as I possibly could at the time, I gave my story over to Jesus and chose to trust him no matter what. Today, the depression is gone. That's not to say that there's no more sadness, because there definitely is. But I see the beauty in life again and instead of longing for death, I long for a purpose filled life. I remember when I got to a point where I could at least look forward to watching my boys grow up but I didn't think I would ever look forward to my own life anymore. But the One who loves me the most has rescued me. He has been at work all of these days and I really truly do look forward to my own life again! Jesus gets all of the credit for that. Words cannot be written to fully express the gratitude I have that I wasn't left to die in that dark place. And I'm so incredibly thankful for the people that had a part in his plan to rescue me. The ones I mentioned AND for so many others that also showed up and continue to show up. You all brought a piece of goodness into the world when you chose to show up for a girl who had lost her way and almost damn near lost her life. It's not enough and you deserve so much more, but to every single one of you, I send the biggest hugs I've got along with the biggest THANK YOU that can possibly be expressed in words. 

  

A Tale of Two Dresses

I almost reached for the Advil PM and a glass of water. But here I am -with leftover peach cobbler and coffee instead. Because while I am tired (I am ALWAYS tired), there is this part of my story that needs to get out. And of course peach cobbler and sugared up coffee are the best sidekicks to get that done. But where do I start? That's such a hard thing to know. Straight to the heart of the story I guess?

 So, 5 months ago, I got engaged. That wedding was set to happen next month. It was all done. All we had to do was show up. But somewhere along the way during the last couple of months, life happened. The ugly kind of life. The kind of life that says, "It's been a while since you've hurt- let's just go ahead and remedy that." I began to feel a kind of anxiety that I have never before in my life felt. I can't even describe it. It caused me actual physical pain. I fell asleep with my heart literally hurting every single night. I won't divulge the things that happened that led to that anxiety, but I knew deep down that I wasn't ready for this. But everyone was so happy for me. How could I let them down? So I pressed on. And the anxiety got worse. Fast. And then full on depression hit. And that kept growing at record speed also. I couldn't keep up. 

There are only a handful of people that know this next part but I'm putting it out here in these written words because I can't keep up with the mask wearing thing anymore. It's too much. I need to be real and authentic, no matter the cost of my image. Soooo, the depression grew into a desire for death. Every. Single. Day. I would see all of these happy people just living out their perfectly normal lives and it was unbearable for me. I wanted that. And it was unreachable because I was bound to this upcoming marriage that I wasn't ready for.  I was gearing up to be some sort of false sacrificial lamb that kept everyone believing the lie of my happy ending. The problem was, my happy ending in real life was me waking up sobbing every morning trying to figure out how I was going to make it through the day, much less my entire life. I never resorted to actually acting on any of my desires for death, but for the first time, I understood what suicidal people who cut themselves for release go through. I wanted that same release. I longed for it with every fiber of my being. It needed to come out. Somehow. The tension and the agony going on in my insides was so unbearable. And the isolation- oh the isolation. It was a level of pain that I just didn't know what to do with. There is no possible way to describe that kind of pain through words. The only single thing that got me through was the whisper of, "Your children are not ready to live without you." That's it. That's all I had. My kids. I must fight for them. I must.  

While it wasn't nearly to the same degree, I remember having doubts during my first engagement. And the same thoughts about being too far in and having to see it through and just hope for the best. And we all know how that worked out. Was I really going to let history repeat itself? I couldn't. So 10 days ago, the decision to not get married was made. And immediately, the anxiety eased. Finally, some release.  And then. A phone call. From the ex-husband. To tell me that for reasons beyond his control, he was having to sell his house and move 3 hours away. And the boys will have to switch schools and who knows how scheduling time with them will work out now. The one stable and constant thing in their life, gone. Damn. This life, man. It just never lets up. So there's a new wave of depression hitting. It's better than it was 10 days ago, but honestly, that doesn't say a whole lot right now. It's all just really hard. That's just the honest truth.

So here I am. The not-so-proud owner of 2 dresses (tucked away in the garage so I don't have to actually look at them) as evidence that I have no idea what I'm doing in this life of mine. One dress that's a token of a failed marriage and another dress a token of still being a clueless hot mess. I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow, or the next day, or next week, or next month, or next year. And I don't know when the bad depression days will hit hard and when they will be more subdued. I'm on a day by day schedule right now. But here's what I do know.. Jesus is still Jesus. I'm not always able to focus on him when the pain hits, but when he does give me the gift of his overwhelming presence, it's so very sweet. When I can look up at the sky while I'm driving and see a sunset that oozes his goodness and glory, I cling to that moment and hold on to it for as long as I can. When I can hug my boys and smell their sweet skin and take in all of the good kind of life that's happening inside of them, I relish in that. And for right now, I'm remembering that trusting Jesus doesn't really happen in the easy times. It happens when the actual need for trust arises. And as it turns out, I can trust him even in the very darkest of hours.    

          

A Sweet Reminder

Last week my boys went to Pine Cove Camp at our church. Every single morning that I dropped them off, the counselors were there with this joyful presence, eager to share the love of Jesus with my kids. Every. Single. Morning. There's just something about college students who are on fire for Jesus. It took me back to when I was just a little younger than them and had that same fire. When my days were filled with Crazy Jesus Thursdays in a back room inside the library at my high school, and Wednesday nights were spent at MAD House at my church, and shoe polish was all over my 1993 fuchsia Geo Storm that read, "Honk if you love Jesus!" And falling asleep in the middle of praying happened every single night before I could finish a full prayer because I just had too much to say to my Daddy and I was never ready to stop talking to Him. And I jammed to the lyrics to all of the songs by Audio Adrenaline, Jaci Velasquez, and DC Talk and REALLY meant them as I raised my hands high in the air and truly gave myself over to worship. When my heart broke for the things that broke HIS heart, not my own heart. But in the midst of my tiny view of brokenness, I was still JOYFUL about whose I was and who had ultimate reign no matter what.

But along the way, I began to experience the brokenness of this world on a deeper level. And without even really realizing it, my heart began to harden over the years. Fast forward to today and I can check off so many good things that I have experienced with God through this broken life. Peace? Check. Complete trust in Him? Check. An indescribable gratitude for everything I have been given that I don't deserve? Check. Joyful hope?.... Hmmm... that one seems to have gotten lost somewhere. And I think that's one of the most important pieces missing. Because that is the whole point of Jesus! We talk and complain about the brokenness we see in the world like it's this completely new concept and somehow we need to fix it. But it's not a new concept. We can trace evil all the way back to Adam and Eve. And we. cannot. fix it. There is only one person who can take on that task, and HE. ALREADY. DID. FIX. IT!!! But instead of THAT being the message I live out, I've let myself get caught up in the gloominess that the rest of the world is beating in. I've let myself become of this world with a message of complaint instead of choosing to stand out from it with a message of hope. I complain about this and that happening in the world and in my own life, instead of proclaiming with joy and excitement that Jesus took care of it all already and is still alive and on His throne and doing His good work! I've let the true amazing power of the cross get diminished. How foolish of me!

I remember as a new follower of Christ back in 8th grade, one of my favorite verses was Jeremiah 29:11 that says, "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future." But for the longest time, I didn't know the full story of Jeremiah, I just knew that one verse and I clung to it because of it's upbeat promise. It was quite some time before I finally decided to read the book of Jeremiah all the way through, and man, was I was disappointed. I didn't read a story of full of upbeat hope, I read a story full of grief. But then I realized that's what makes that verse that I had clung to so awesome. In a story so full of gloom, God is still there offering his promises of hope. The promise means so much more BECAUSE of the gloom it rescues us from! Way back then, God was promising us Jesus. He was redeeming. He is always redeeming. Yes, there is lots of bad in this world, but there is beauty in the middle of it with Jesus. True victory over evil does not lay within us, it lays within Jesus. The power is His and His alone. What is harmful, He makes good again. What is ugly, He makes beautiful again. As much as anyone can try, undoing His perfect plan cannot be done. THE CROSS CANNOT BE UNDONE.  "No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loves us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any power, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:37-39
How I long for my heart to be refocused on that truth!

My heart still has quite a few hardened layers that still need to be removed, but for right now, I'm focusing on the sweet reminder of the power that is the cross and the glorious hope that it brings. For whoever needs it, I hope that reminder also brings you comfort.

An Open Letter to Judah's Parents

Dear Mark and Christi,

You may not remember me. I only met you for the first time tonight at one of the Judah Brown charity events. I know of Judah from preschool but since he wasn't in my class, I never knew you. I've thought of you and prayed for you so many times over the last 6 months, but my heart wasn't equipped for the shattering it would experience seeing you in person. I only got a glance of you before I had to turn away because I was about to completely break down. All of those happy smiling children around - including my own - but no Judah. And yet there you were, smiling yourselves, just for the sake of the people around you. I finally got up the courage to introduce myself and you laughed and joked with my youngest son about his missing teeth - while your youngest son was just missing. My heart couldn't handle the torture that I knew you must have been feeling. And if my own heart was so broken, how deep and agonizing your broken heart must have been. What do you say to someone who is living every parent's worst nightmare? I don't even remember the words that actually made it out of my mouth, but they must have been the dumbest words ever spoken on the planet. I wish with everything inside of me that I could make it all ok for you. But I can't. So I just hugged you and then awkwardly said goodbye. What an empty gesture. And now here I am, sitting on my couch with tears running down my face, writing you a letter that you may not even ever see. I have absolutely nothing to offer you in your time of grief. But I promise you that Judah is not forgotten. I can't speak for anyone other than myself, but his memory will live with me forever. I hope that brings just the tiniest fraction of comfort. And I continue to pray for you. For our Father to reveal Himself to you and love on you in overwhelming ways that only He can - since He is the only One that can bring the kind of true comfort that you deserve. I pray that He makes your days left here on earth as bearable as possible until you get to see your sweet Judah again. And for whatever they're worth, I'm sending you the biggest hugs that I possibly can.

💔,
Cassi

Brokenness is Beautiful (and a book recommendation)

About a year ago, I saw a quote somewhere on the Internet about change and brokenness and growth as related to a seed. I loved it and immediately posted it on my own Instagram account. It has stuck with me ever since.  Also, Ann Voskamp is one of my favorite writers. Her words speak to me like nobody else's. So when I found out about her newest book, The Broken Way, I ordered it immediately. I am only a few chapters into it, but that same quote about the seed was in the very first chapter I read. She expands on it and tells how her husband once told her that we shouldn't be afraid of broken things because the feast only comes FROM BROKENNESS. "The seed is broken to give us the wheat, the soil is broken to give us the crop, the sky breaks to give us the rain, the wheat breaks to give us the bread, and the bread breaks to give us the feast." Beautiful. And then I think about Jesus' body being broken and how we eat of the broken bread to remember the beauty in His brokenness. God himself became broken and look at the overflowing amount of beauty that comes from it. I can't help but dwell on that as my heart explodes into a million pieces over and over again. His broken body gives us the feast of Himself. Because Jesus allowed his body to break, we all get to have Him with us forever. While I'm over here complaining about my brokenness, He CHOSE to be broken because of what He was able to give out of that brokenness. What in the whole wide world? How do I mimic that kind of selfless giving?

Then, while looking for pictures to steal from the Internet to post on here, I learned that there is a Japanese art called Kintsugi that uses liquid gold and silver to mend broken ceramics. The idea is that instead of throwing away the broken pieces or trying to hide them with glue, the damage is incorporated into the repaired piece. The result is a new creation with character and history that makes it more beautiful than the original.

Brokenness is beautiful.

This past summer I naively wrote something about how 2 years post divorce, I am back to being just "Cassi" instead of "broken Cassi." I was in a good season of life, things were going well and it was a nice thought.  And the very next day after writing that I was no longer broken, I was reminded of how untrue that is. I forgot that my heart is a mended heart and can be broken all over again at any given moment without any warning. I forgot that brokenness is permanent in this life and that wholeness won't come this side of heaven until I am with the One who keeps mending my broken heart while I'm living in this broken world. And mending had to start all over again. There is no more "unbroken Cassi." She doesn't exist anymore. Brokenness can never be undone and is forever a part of who I am. But this time, instead of trying to fix my brokenness, I am learning how to embrace it. I'm replacing the glue with gold. And I'm learning what it's like to give out of my brokenness just like the bread gives the feast from being broken. It's hard and I keep failing. All of these consuming, overwhelming desires constantly flowing in my insides to live and pour out His love, but I can't seem to get it right when living it on the outside in actual life. But I keep trying - because I desperately want to live in the complete fullness of His love.

This is a very short thought on the subject, but there are so many more fantastic words about it in Ann's book. If you are one of the broken ones, I highly recommend reading it. It is good for the broken soul.

Dear Trump Supporters...

I know. It's Veteran's Day and I had hoped to stay away from political talk as not to take away from what today should really be about - ya know, our veterans. This is their day and I hate so much that celebrating them in honor of their sacrifices is getting overshadowed by election stuff. But I have seen a lot of hurt being talked about today because of said election so.... here we are.

So here's the thing. I constantly struggle with knowing when it's better to speak up about something and when it's better to keep quiet in order to keep the peace. And when I do decide that speaking up is the correct thing to do, I struggle with finding the right words that will be uplifting to others according to their needs. It's hard. And I fail at this often. And I may fail again here. But people are hurting, y'all. For real hurting. This kind of hurt warrants addressing. I've seen stories of both Trump supporters and Hillary supporters acting out in violent ways and It. Is. Not. Ok. But that's not what I want to get into here. Because people I know have stories of hurting people. I'm not talking about stories heard on the news or read on social media articles. Stories that they have lived and/or seen up close and personal in their lives. GOOD people who supported Hillary and are not in the minority group that is protesting violently. They are devastated and fearful about a Trump presidency. And they have good reason to be fearful. We can't blame them for that. Trump is unpredictable and has made a pretty bad reputation for himself. And if I'm being perfectly honest, I have personally seen, in my own real life, at least as much, if not more, childish behavior from Trump supporters than Hillary supporters.  People I know that refer to Hillary Clinton as "Killary" and call liberals "libtards." CHRIST following good people have resorted to this kind of low. I've heard stories (from people I know - not 3rd party news stories) of minority kids being the butt of racial jokes and other kids high-fiving each other because Trump is going to build a wall and then saying they are going to buy an AK47 and find Killary. Local stories y'all. Happening in communities I used to live in. If anyone thinks this is ok and acceptable, then we have a huge problem. This is absolutely craziness.  And turning our heads and pretending it's not a big deal isn't ok. IT IS NOT OK. These are KIDS for crying out loud.

Sadly, a lot of us are the ones who fueled this flame. Well intended, good people. But that doesn't change the consequences of our reckless words. Instead of addressing Hillary Clinton's downfalls like adults, we did it like assholes. In doing so, we set an example of asshole-ness to our kids who are taking that to school with them. Thankfully, my own kids don't seem to know much about the election other than the names of the people who ran and that Donald Trump apparently has orange skin. I'm glad for that. They will have plenty of time to deal with the world's craziness as they get older. But that could change at any moment because there are a lot of kids in one elementary school and who knows what they know or have heard and will eventually spread.

So I implore you, Donald Trump Supporters, please please please be mindful of the words that you use. Our children are listening. And second, please be mindful of the people who are legitimately hurting right now. Don't ask them to bottle up their feelings and just get over it. If the roles were reversed, that's not what you would want to hear and it's not fair to disregard their feelings so easily. Let's try to understand where they are coming from and be there to offer an open ear and open heart.

I know this kind of request can be hard to swallow from Hillary supporters as it comes across one-sided. I have been guilty of that recently, myself. So know that this request comes from someone who also voted for Trump. I haven't made that public because I didn't want anything I said about the election to be accepted or rejected solely on the basis of who I voted for. But I think it's only fair now to be honest and transparent. I voted for him in spite of being radically against the idea of him being the Republican nominee because at the end of the day, actions speak louder than words for me. I was outraged when Brock Turner was sentenced to just 6 months jail time for raping a young woman and I think it would have been hypocritical to not be just as outraged about seeing Hillary Clinton not be held accountable for criminal acts as well - and not only that, but also in a sense be rewarded for it. It would have been the ultimate show of abuse of power.  I see Hillary Clinton as someone who tries to keep her baggage behind closed doors and that is far more dangerous to me than someone who lets it out in the open. This comes from someone who on separate occasions, has been sexually assaulted and abused before so please don't tell me I can't relate to the people that Trump has insulted so I can't fully understand. Because in my personal experience, when someone tries to hide the bad inside of them instead of bringing it to the light to be addressed and moved on from, it is much more insulting and demeaning than the latter. I struggled with casting an actual vote for Donald Trump for a while, but in the end I felt like it was worth giving him a chance. I believe (while there's a very strong chance it is selfish based) that he has a genuine desire to leave a positive legacy so that will be great motivation for him to succeed. That is not the only factor in my decision but since that's not what this post is really about, I'm not going to spend a lot of time making a list about it.

That's where I stand for whatever it matters. To anyone who is hurting or is scared and wants to talk, I'm here. Maybe a little late and for that, I'm sorry. But I'm here now. Please forgive those of us who are still struggling with how to approach conversations about this in the right and loving way. Some of us are working on it.