For years, I wanted to open a safe home for teenage girls who’d been rescued from human trafficking. But that’s a huge undertaking; especially for a recent grad still messily trying to figure out the world. I was stuck in the thought that I had to do something life-changingly big and wait until the exact right time to make a difference in the world. Years ticked by and my heart still ached to do something, anything to make the world better for survivors. Last year, I got tired of waiting for the “perfect moment” to start making a difference and decided to take a step. To start small and try to bring light into at least one survivor’s life through a business idea called The Arise Box.
I couldn’t focus. Every day seemed harder and harder – I was losing my ability to accomplish my daily tasks and I couldn’t understand what was happening.
Nothing seemed to work. I’d get up and walk around, and when I sat back down the first thing I would reach for is my phone, my crutch when I was bored. The thing was, I wasn’t bored. My brain was being challenged, I was learning new things, and I had a lot to do. But I couldn’t seem to get anything done.
One hour. Four shots of Fireball. And a new found love of left swiping.
I was immediately hooked on Tinder. It felt so liberating to swipe left, left, left, ohhh right, left, and left some more. There were very few worthy of my right swipes and later down the line, my treasured super likes.
On Wednesday, April 19th I was checked by my midwife and she reported that I was 2 centimeters dilated and 50% effaced. Naturally, I got super excited and assumed delivery was imminent. I was wrong. No bloody show, no broken water. My midwife wrote me a prescription for a tincture to help induce labor. It consisted of blue and black cohosh root, ginger, and Lobelia. Two days later and one empty tincture bottle... still nothing. At this point, I was more than ready to get this show on the road
In late March, Holl and Lane Magazine Editor, Sarah Hartley, took to her Facebook group and asked her followers if they had anything to “get off their chest.” She offered a “safe place” to say things people had “been holding in.” Sarah, herself, started off by bravely posting about a personal struggle. After this, it was as if the floodgates opened. Sarah had given her largely female followers space to finally be honest about their lives, their troubles, their imperfections. All of this on Facebook, home of overly-perfect child pictures, and vacation albums where absolutely nothing goes wrong.