Posted on by palmtreemomma

How It Should Be

This is how it should be.


The world on the edge of its seat. Holding a collective breath. Calling out the monsters. Sending up prayers for peace. Linking invisible fingers to push back the violence.


Some of us are seeing bravery for the first time. Raw, pure utter bravery that stems from love. Love for a country. Ukraine. For its children and grandchildren. Love for freedom. For home. Old men who show up at the front lines. Young men who have never held a real weapon before. Doing what they can with what they have. Following a leader who refuses to run and hide. Volunteers from neighboring countries crossing the border to help.


Neighboring countries opening up borders to give shelter to refugees. Changing policies quickly to save lives. Finding ways to accommodate. To welcome.

This is how it should be.


We post pictures of Russian protesters. Peacefully risking their lives for what they believe in. We sit in awe of their bravery. Knowing the world may never see them again. So we pray for their safety.


This is how it should be.


Violence should be condemned. Heroes should be sung. Children should be sheltered. Homelands should be safe.


And I’m so glad the world seems to be coming together to decry this violence. This utter ruthless violence that speaks not of strength but of a bully.


But honestly, there’s a place in my heart that is heavy. For all the other heroes left unsung. All the black and brown children left un-sheltered. The trans kids who even now are having laws made that threaten their very existence. The refugees from countries like Afghanistan, who have had a long history of living under Russia’s violence, being turned away. Black and brown protesters attacked for walking peacefully in their cities. Parents with a different skin tone than ours, criticized for fleeing their own war torn home and told to go back to their country.

Compassion should not be selective.


Like a mother’s womb, it grows and swells to hold and protect the life it shelters. Compassion is marked with stretch marks. Gentle hands caressing the places its been kicked from the inside. It recognizes life and protects it. Whether Ukrainian, Syrian, Afghani, Honduran, Guatemalan, Congolese, Rohingya or Uighur . Straight or queer. Muslim or Christian. Male or Female.


So maybe the next time you see Black Lives Matter protesters holding signs on the street corner of your city, you will remember how you admired the Russian protesters. Maybe you can find the courage to get out of your car and go stand with them. Plant your feet beside theirs. Bear witness to their stories of courage. Their fight for a world that is safe for their babies to grow up in. Like the Russian protesters, they know they too could disappear. It happens. Even in these United States. Maybe you will choose to stand with those who are denouncing violence. Believe their stories. This is how it should be.


Perhaps the next time you see a young mother speaking to her children in a language you do not understand, you will remember the language of compassion. Instead of telling her to go back to her country, you will welcome her to yours. This is how it should be.


I hope that next time you see a person who doesn’t quite fit into any gender box that you are familiar with. Or is wearing their colors and being unabashedly authentic. Perhaps you will remember the bravery of Ukraine. Perhaps you can dig down and find some of that bravery yourself and be a safe person for queer folks in your community. This is how it should be.


You see, you can either be a monster or you can help fight them.

Posted on by palmtreemomma

Breaking the Silence

This week I watched as a friend was bravely vulnerable. Honest. Raw. Real. Within 24 hours, her vulnerability got her fired from her job.

We often don’t know what to do with utter vulnerability. When someone leaves their masks and molds at the door and gives us a look at the tender heart that is struggling beneath it all, it can be frightening and words can easily fail us.

We are accustomed to a cookie cutter society, where we know there are different flavors and shapes yet we still expect each person to fit into some type of mold. When someone is unflinchingly honest with us, the mold breaks and we see something we are not used to seeing. We seldom know what to do with it.

We have frequently experienced this, since my husband came out as bi. Sometimes the silence hurts more than words of judgement. Silence is interpreted by the hearer and it speaks loudly. Too often, unintended harshness is heard in the words left unspoken.

The unspoken rule

It is as if we adhere to an unspoken rule that says you should not acknowledge what another is going through or show compassion unless you morally agree with the issue at hand. True compassion, however, is the sympathetic consciousness of the distress of another, with a desire to alleviate it. Compassion is universal and goes deeper than morality. It sees distress for the pain that it is. If someone is utterly honest with you, you can show compassion without ever telling them if you agree with them on a particular issue or not.

We don’t know what to do with utter vulnerability, but we can learn. When someone shares something hidden with you – an affair, depression, betrayal, addiction, sexual or gender orientation, and you are left speechless, there are some things you can say.

What to do with utter vulnerability

I’m listening. Every week I get to hear these words from the mom of a childhood friend after she reads my blog post. Two simple words that say everything.

It sounds like you have a lot going on right now. Let me know if you ever want to talk. I’m here. This lets them know you see them and are there for them without pushing yourself onto them.

I hear you. Keep talking. Sometimes simply acknowledging that you are listening is all they need. In a world where we often miss important things, it communicates that you hear and are not ignoring or pretending it never happened.

This is all new territory for me but I would like to learn. Can you tell me more? Admitting you don’t know much is okay. Always be gentle in asking for more. Never pry. Trust must be earned and should never be assumed. Communicate that you are willing to be taught, instead of telling them you have the answers.

I had no idea this was going on. How can I be there for you? In other words, what do you need? Again, it acknowledges the pain without controlling the narrative.

I love you no matter what. This one is overused and can easily sound hollow. Only say this if you are prepared to back it up. Living this one out may prove to be much harder than saying the words in the first place. And be aware that what you think is loving may feel like rejection to them, which defeats the purpose of saying the words in the first place.

Be There

Whatever you do, find a way to acknowledge that you see and you hear. It is devastating to be vulnerable and have people you thought were your friends either ghost you or pretend nothing happened. We must find a better way to navigate the broken bits of life with those we care about, not running away from it, or telling them how to fix it.

Be the person who stays, shows up, listens, finds the words to speak, but most importantly, walks beside. Be a before and after kind of friend. And remember, you can’t love with arms wide open when you are holding on to judgement. Love widely.


Click on the button above to send me an email and I will let you know when new posts are up! If you or someone you love is in the closet, or if you are struggling with your own guttural grief and need someone to talk to, email me. I may not have time to answer you but I will read it and hold you in my heart.