Blog

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry! We’re not trying to hurt your feelings. It’s just funny! Who would want to go to this? It sounds so boring!”

I have a feeling you’ve experienced a moment just like this…

The moment you courageously step into the spotlight to show your true self to someone you love, only to be shot down by criticism, misunderstanding, or worst of all… mockery.  

When I was 13, I found an ad in the newspaper for a summer social at the Natural Science Museum. The headline (roughly translated) said, “Nerds Are Welcome Here!” 

I’d spent most of 8th grade coping with a loneliness-induced stomach ache. My true self was emerging from her childhood chrysalis, ready to spread her adolescent butterfly wings and fly. But I knew my tiny Texas town wasn’t safe for butterflies. Cowboys liked to smash butterflies under the heel of their boots for sport. 

I needed a safe space to emerge, and my rapid heartbeat told me this nerd-friendly social might be the answer. The invitation hooked me like a fish on a line. I could feel the words pulling me silently out of my tiny town and into an unfamiliar world. 

The only problem? 

This unfamiliar world required transportation and an admission fee. 

Tracing my fingers gently over the newspaper clipping, I decided I had no choice but to ask my parents if they’d take me to the event. 

Later that night, my family was having dinner at Casa Olé, a favorite hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant serving bowls of liquidy green salsa and piping hot queso.

“I’ll take a Beefeater martini on the rocks,” barked my father. 

“We’re at Casa Olé. Don’t you want a margarita?!” I joked as if I were a 13-year-old cocktail aficionado. He didn’t think it was funny.

Halfway through my cheese enchiladas, I studied the exposed bit of my purple Fiesta Ware plate, working up the courage to expose the hook still lodged firmly in my core.

“Hey, Mom, I found this thing in the paper, and I really want to go.”

I imagined myself downing the last swallow of Beefeater martini as I slapped the newspaper clipping onto the table.

“It’s-a-thing-at-the-museum-where-you-go-and-talk-about-things-and-I-think-it’d-be-fun-so-I-want-go-will-you-buy-me-a-ticket-and-drive-me-please-you-don’t-even-have-to-go-inside.”

My body felt empty and hollow. With my eyes closed, my guts clenched, and the smell of melted cheese invading my nostrils, I waited. It was probably only seconds, but it felt like hours.

I cracked open one eye and scanned the table. My parents were reading the clipping. 

Are they smiling? Oh yes, they are smiling! Oh wait, they’re not smiling… they are… laughing.

Fire erupted in my core, spreading rapidly up my back, through my chest, into my face. I tried desperately to suppress the tears bubbling to the surface, but there was no hope for it.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry! We’re not trying to hurt your feelings. It’s just funny! Who would want to go to this? It sounds so boring!”

Without a second thought, they shifted the conversation back to something lame while shoveling rice and beans into their mouths. 

I took a breath and stopped crying, but something had shifted—a deep knowing about myself that I would never be able to un-know: there were people out there for me, and one day, I would find them.

It might’ve taken a few decades, but I can confidently say that I have found my people. And guess what? It’s you. You are my people. 

When I started this business, I didn’t realize I was creating a safe container for people like me—fellow middle-school misfits—to be seen, accepted, and celebrated. 

But that’s what’s happened!

The spaces I hold are full of people who know what it’s like to be met with criticism and mockery—people who are healing from painful experiences that stripped them of their dazzle and forced them into generic people-pleasing costumes. 

Unsurprisingly, many of us ended up running our own mission-driven businesses. We are desperate to make the world a better place, but if we’re honest with ourselves, sometimes it’s easier to hide behind our missions than it is to step fully into the spotlight. 

If you want to express who you truly are and be supported by a community that will celebrate your true colors, you’re in the right place. 

I want to meet the unique and endlessly interesting person who lives beneath the surface of your body. Show me your newspaper clipping! Share your poetry, your drawing, your song. Tell me your biggest, most audacious dreams for the future. Nothing is off-limits. 

The world needs more of you. 

I genuinely believe that and want to help you believe it, too. 

If this message is resonating, hit “reply” and tell me one factoid about yourself. Doesn’t matter what it is. This is an invitation to practice being seen by someone who is going to celebrate you.