Before long, houses up and down the block were proudly displaying ‘We’ve Been BOOed’ signs in their windows. Suddenly, even in the midst of fear and isolation, we didn’t feel quite so alone anymore. That first BOO bag was more than just a festive surprise. It was a lifeline—a reminder that even in times of trauma and uncertainty, small acts of kindness can rebuild community and restore hope.

I didn’t get up because I had unwavering faith that everything would be okay. I didn’t get up because I was eager to march into battle, full of fight. What finally got me up was something quieter: the knowing that sitting on the sidelines was no longer an option, and that with whatever time I have left, I want to tend my small patch of the world better than I found it.

As a kid, I was called 'alien boy' because of my pointy ears—and even after surgery to 'fix' them, the bullying didn't stop. It took decades to realize the real wound wasn’t in my appearance—it was in the way I talked to myself. This is a story about how I reclaimed my self-worth, one mirror at a time.

It took some time, distance, and tenderness to understand that this, too, was part of the journey. That not every sacred space will crack us open. That sometimes the most spiritual growth comes not in the fireworks of revelation, but in the silence of unmet expectation.

From family bakeries in the Azores to late-night theater seats in London, this journey became a patchwork of love, history, presence, and resilience, reminding me that honoring our roots and showing up for each other creates the moments that last.

In high school, hiding didn’t protect me from bullying—so I stopped trying to disappear. Instead, I chose outrageous authenticity: twirling flags in the marching band, donning a cape as the school mascot, and celebrating the parts of me others tried to erase. I wasn't fully free yet, but every messy, brave act was a step toward reclaiming my voice—and planting the seeds of true self-acceptance.

Every year, my rapist wishes me a happy birthday on Facebook. This year, I’m reclaiming my story before the post arrives.

The universe was unmistakably delivering a message: it was time to break the silos that compartmentalized my life.

Real courage doesn't always receive applause—it quietly supports from the sidelines, staying true even when no one else notices.

I spent years saying, ‘Someday I’ll do this.’ But ‘someday’ never came—until I chose action over perfection. What dream will you say yes to?

Oppression thrives on despair. That’s why our joy is one of the most radical things we can hold onto.

Letting go isn’t easy, but it’s often the first step toward true growth. Trust the leap forward—what lies ahead is worth the courage.

Fear kept me hidden, but embracing authenticity set me free. Life’s fullest expression comes when we step into our truth.

Love isn’t just a feeling; it’s a force for change. Through small acts of kindness and bold steps for justice, we can light the way for othe

Fear of being seen held me back for years, but hiding won’t heal me—and it won’t heal you either. Let’s step boldly into our stories.

Healing happens when we embrace our story. This year, I’m stepping into my truth—and inviting you to do the same.

Your unique voice has the power to transform lives. Don’t let fear hold you back—take one small step today toward your light.

It's possible to find harmony between tradition and individuality.

Discover the magic of angelic color and how it can guide, heal, and inspire you, from vibrant vermilion gates to everyday signs around you.

Stress and lack of sleep often go unnoticed, masked by numbing habits. Tune into your body, break the cycle, and embrace mindful self-care.