The Humble Warrior

Writing is bliss, social media, not so much.  While I love keeping up with the kids and families I moved away from when we came south, I worry about the younger generations and whether their tie to social media will have an adverse effect on their self worth. I worry that they can’t live freely, taking in experiences, posting what they want to, and still know how to enjoy the present. How do they learn that likes are not tied to worth, and that while being kind is first on the good life list, we are all left knowing that the only feelings that we should and can manage are our own.  Boundaries…what a lesson.  

I have journaled for over 20 years to bring clarity and healing to my life so, it’s not like this writing thing was a hobby I picked up recently. Today though, I use social media to put my words out there, so I have had to spend some time with my relationship with likes and followers in my own head so that it doesn’t feel like the ASB election I lost as a junior in high school, or the one before that in 5th grade where I got beat by a 4th grader.  Unlike my dad, I don’t think I’ve ever won an election in my life…so for me, likes need not become votes or I’m in trouble. 

Lately, I have spent a lot of time trying to figure out who it is I am writing to, besides myself, when I pen these blogs. I feel it in certain spaces, when women share their stories about their kids and we make an instant “me too” connection and leave with a hug after talking for less than 5 minutes. It’s in the graduation stories, life transitions, and the emails that come from far away about these rites of passage that seem so regular in American life, but shake us to our core.  It’s in the conversations about broken relationships, and what we’ve learned from them, that gives way to healing and makes life a more real, and still beautiful place to be.

In the end, I want my words to make other people feel understood…because to me that is one of the best feelings in the world.

This week, I was standing on the beach getting ready for another game and my friend Heidi said:

“I love reading what you write, it’s like you are talking just to me. I almost ‘liked’ it, and I have never ‘liked’ anything in my whole life.” 

Heidi gets my weekly email, she’s not even on Instagram. Her words gave me the chills. She is my person, my four kid mom who rolls with the chaos, raises good kids, and holds herself to an incredibly high standard, all while treating others with a tremendous amount of grace.  If my words mean something to her, I’m hitting my mark. She shares the court with me every week and every inch of her 5’4 self can side out with the best of them with crazy cut shots and hard swinging deep middles.  She can also stitch you up, write a prescription, and teach SRE classes (she was Matthew’s First Communion teacher).  She does all of this… and you don’t even know her. 

She is the humble warrior. She is a beautiful example of strength and submission to the ebbs and flows of life. She is who I am writing to. 


Humble warriors come in many forms. They are the teachers I encountered at Open House last night at Kate and Matthew’s school, the doctors and nurses in the ER at 5am when I brought Lauren in because she couldn’t breath, the coaches who give confidence to my 5’8 inch 12 year old who is all knees and elbows at this point, but is starting to make more jump shots in the driveway, and the volunteer who goes into the classroom and helps a little girl with behavioral issues learn to read, because the powers that be have given up on her. Thank you humble warriors for being in my corner, writing this is making me realize how many of you there are in my life.  Thank you for your causes, the jobs you do, your bravery, and the space you give other people to be who they are. Most of all,  thank you humble warriors for sharing your wisdom and knowing your worth without fanfare, headlines or likes…you bring trust and connection to this world that the algorithm has yet to define. 

Happy Father’s Day to all the dad’s out there fighting the good fight. Enjoy your day and may your children be good to you today. Parenting didn’t come with a manual…take it one day at a time.