Trust is written in the sand.

There are lots of ways to think about trust.

It seems that trust is discussed often as something that is owned by another. You have to “earn their trust.” It’s “up to them” whether or not “they” will trust you. We say and think things like “I can’t trust you.” or “Why don’t you trust me?” Or we try to prove ourselves “trustworthy,” as if trust is a prize that some other person has the right to bestow upon us – or not.

This mindset causes all sorts of dysfunctional behavior. People justify lying – ironically – because they think the truth would make them seem untrustworthy. They resent their partners for not being trustworthy, or for being untrusting. They lie because they want to be trusted. They believe each other when inside they know they shouldn’t – because they don’t want to be unkind and distrustful. Trust can become a minefield.

What if we think about it differently?

What if we think about trust being written in the sand?

You know that saying “Life is a Beach?” Imagine when you meet someone that you are both on the beach. You each have a stick of driftwood. You’re each writing your life’s story in the sand. When you come together and decide to interact with each other – you are relating to one another. Whether it’s a friendship or romance, a family member, or business partner, from this moment on trust – or the lack of it – is effecting your relationship.

Trust between you is a word that you carve into the sand together. Sometimes the sun comes out and all is calm and neither of you needs to really pay much attention to trust. It just exists without difficulty.

But sometimes one of you may accidentally fall or even purposefully kick sand on the word and mess up the writing. Sometimes a gust of wind might erode the writing, it may be in danger of disappearing.

So long as you’re both standing there together, it’s up to both of you to keep trust in existence. It’s not something one of you owns or the other one deserves. It’s something that keeps a connection between you. It provides clarity and a foundation for growth and allows the relationship to function.

If trust erodes, the relationship will too.

If someone acts in ways that erode trust in your relationship – allow them the chance to rewrite those letters. You can support them through it, but you cannot do it for them. You cannot rewrite trust that someone else has erased.

When you lie, or omit, or cheat, or act in ways that hurt someone, trust becomes eroded. Don’t think about it in terms of “I hope they can trust me again” …because they don’t own trust. Think about it in terms of “I need to work really hard to rewrite these letters in the sand because trust is fading between us. (And maybe we should build a wind buffer for extra protection.)”

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New Moon Wisdom

See people.

See people for who they are. Where they are.

And really, that means…

See the choices they make.

Someone might “LOVE” you…

In that, they feel an overwhelming connection to you. They see you and get a dose of serotonin. They want to be with you as much as possible.

But if they don’t “love” you…

In that, they make you a priority when it’s appropriate. They respect you. They understand and appreciate that your time and attention is a gift that they wish to reciprocate.

Then, you aren’t going to feel “LOVED.”

And, not feeling loved, by someone who professes to LOVE you is one of the most frustrating things to deal with.

But sometimes people aren’t able to “love” … they just aren’t in the place or the space or the time where they are capable of that.

So, stop.

Stop seeing who someone could be, wants to be, maybe will be someday.

And instead…

See people.

See people for who they are. Where they are. Right now.

And really, that means…

See the choices they make.

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Real Men Respect Women and Girls…. and they know the difference.

Last night, I watched the scene play out in front of me. I know the guy in this story. I know him well. I know he’s one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met. He’s truly beautiful inside and out. And I know he loves women.

Let me actually dive into that last sentence. “I know he loves women.” Not, I know he likes women. Not, I know he likes to look at women. Not, I know he believes women were put on this earth for the pleasure of him and other men. But… he loves women. He loves to empower women. He loves to protect women. He loves to celebrate the differences between women and men as differences, not from a position of a perceived power trip. He’s really great at being a man.

So, back to the scene in front of me… She was introduced by whom I assume was her agent. A beautiful girl. There was no way any one of us could have not noticed her beautiful, youthful energy. Her agent pointed out, she’s not 21 yet so she can’t come in. She was introduced to him.

He took her hand in his. He looked her in the eye. He said hello, asked her a few questions, and completely respected her as a young girl who needs respect, guidance and mentorship from an older friend… and not molested by their eyes and ideas. They was never a flicker of “I could consume you.” There was only kindness.

It was exactly what I needed to witness.

The way older men treat girls has been a topic I’ve thought a lot about lately. It’s come up in many forms. First, a grown up, married, father named Robin Thicke performed in such an inappropriate way with a 20 year old girl on live television, to his “kinda rapey” song “Blurred Lines” – and everyone in America called her names while he was completely off the hook. Plus I know a few young girls who are just starting to physically manifest their female form. It makes me remember being a teenager. It makes me remember that creepy way it felt when older men would look at my body. As if it were their right. As if by being male, they had some right to look at me and make me feel like I should hide or I was being slutty. And occasionally it comes up in my personal life. I’ve had this conversation with a few male friends, who feel it’s completely ok for them to have sex with girls who could be their daughters. It makes me so repulsed. It goes both ways for the record… I won’t date guys who are much younger than me. I love them and respect them, but I feel big sisterly or even maternal toward younger men. I respect the process of time and life and where we all fit into it.

I don’t understand what causes the lack of compassion and respect and patriarchal energy in some men that makes them feel like they are rightful in taking advantage of girls or women who are so much younger than them. But it grosses me out. You should look at someone who could be your daughter and feel a responsibility to respect her youth. RESPECT her youth, not try to obtain it.

That’s probably a key point… If you are dating that girl who could be your daughter, are you aware that you are not convincing anybody that you are also actually 20 something? You are merely making us not want to invite you over to family dinners, because we don’t want you looking at our daughters or nieces or sisters like that.

And it’s not some sort of honor that you have the ability to attract a young girl – it’s some sort of fucked up button inside you that makes you want to exploit a girl who probably has been abused or neglected by older males in her past. That doesn’t make you sexy. That makes you icky. Or at very least in need of some therapy.

Don’t be confused about what I’m saying. Sex is fabulous. I am not a prude. I am totally a fan of having fun. But sex is fabulous when it’s safe… and that means it is happening between two consenting adults on an even playing field. It’s not fabulous when that isn’t the case. And there is no even playing field when you could be her parent. Real men don’t have sex with girls. They don’t ogle girls. They don’t comment that “now she’s “legal” or think about teenage girls in terms of what kind of “catch” they will be some day. They don’t ever make a girl feel insecure or creeped out. Real men protect and honor women and girls, and they know the difference and act accordingly.

So thank you, my friend from the scene on the street last night, for once again reminding me that real men do exist.

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Capitol HIll Block Party

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Summer festival season is in full swing…
check out my Capitol Hill Block Party photo review featuring:


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Her heart had literally skipped a beat.

He wasn’t the last boy she had kissed,
and it had been months since they last met.

She really thought
she was over it.

She walked in,
content with their friendship status.

Until their eyes met…


Her heart had literally skipped a beat.

Nope… Not over it.

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Young Hearts Fail.

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Happiness Begins with Finally Knowing

Three years ago, I drove alone to the Oregon coast. I got out of out of my car, walked onto the beach and sat in the sand with a bottle of alcohol and my journal. The sun shined through the marine layer. The wind blew. Children played in the waves. Fathers flew kites. I remembered spending my daughters’ first birthdays in the same sand. The occasional ship passed by, way out on the horizon. Birds came and went. The sun set. The stars came out. Someone down the beach set off fireworks. A beach patrol jeep drove by. About 12 hours passed. I laughed. I cried. I realized I had given up on the idea of anything ever being good again and for the first time in my life had no optimism left. I contemplated what would happen if I never left that spot and just waited until the tide washed me away. I realized that wasn’t even me. I realized how long it had been since I had been lost. I never spoke to anyone…

Until I stood up, Finally Knowing.

I dialed my home and said to the man I had married when I was only 20 years old – the man who was then at our home, as a visitor, to spend the weekend with our children:

“This isn’t ever going to work. It’s over. I’m really done.”



I woke up the next morning to a radio alarm clock playing Bob Marley and the discovery that I had beach hair and had forgotten to pack a hairbrush. I laughed to myself that maybe the answer to it all is simply dreadlocks.

In reality, I had no idea of the process that I was about to begin: the grieving; the fear; the family that would disparage me; the sadness; the financial difficulty; the healing; the discovery that sometimes being alone is less lonely than being with someone else anyway; the happiness I would find… The relief I would feel when I realized I was free from dysfunction.

Today, I am so very grateful for my friends and the people who’ve loved me and supported me through this metamorphic process of rediscovering myself and redefining my family.

“Stands on shifting sands
The scales held in her hands
The wind it just whips Her and wails
And fills up Her rickety sails

She’ll carry on through it all
She’s a waterfall”

Waterfall, Stone Roses

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