Right before I boarded my return flight home from visiting my daughter Riley in Boulder, Colorado, I realized that I was going to be in the middle seat on the plane. My husband Ben knows I prefer an aisle seat, and he almost always books the aisle for me. Considering we booked this trip only a few weeks before, I figured the middle seat was the only one available and accepted the fact that I would probably feel uncomfortable during the flight. But when I sat down the woman in the window seat smiled and said hello. She wore an airline uniform and said she’d worked the flight that had just arrived and was heading home as well for several days off. I asked her what job she worked on the plane because I didn’t want to make any assumptions – for all I knew she could’ve been a pilot. She told me she was a flight attendant and then asked me about my job. I gave a self-effacing chuckle and said, “I’m a stay-at-home mom.” Then she said, “I love that for you.” She followed up saying she was working toward that goal someday. I could tell she wasn’t being sarcastic or demeaning. She was completely sincere when she said, “I love that for you.” 

So often we criticize others when they tell us about their decisions that differ from ours. Not to their faces of course, but in our heads. We don’t merely think “that’s not what I would do.” Instead, we belittle them or think poorly of them for their actions. But the reasons for our negativity are not necessarily rooted in the other person truly making bad choices that could cause poor consequences. I contend that often we tear others down because we want to feel better about our own lives. We want to feel like we’re right, that our path is correct. We may default to defensiveness to justify what we do. We may react out of fear worried we aren’t doing what’s “best” compared to others. To rationalize and support our own actions, we deride others.    

I wonder what would happen if we all took the stance taken by that airline attendant when someone tells us about their choices: “I love that for you.” Assuming that the choices are not dangerous (obviously), I don’t have to agree with you. I don’t need to compare myself to you. I don’t need to overanalyze and rethink my life just because we have taken different journeys. I can choose to celebrate you and what you’re doing with your life. I can praise you for making choices that are right for you. I can encourage you to follow your bliss even if I would never do the same thing. I can support you without judgment. This is not a southern “bless your heart” moment when someone is being facetious and clearly couching their criticism in niceties. “I love that for you” is a genuine way to cheer others on toward their best selves. 

As I tell my kids, we might not be able to control our first thought, but we can control our reactions. So, instead of ripping another to shreds in our heads because they made different choices, let us authentically and with joy tell them, “I love that for you!”

I’ve always been a pop culture junkie. I like to follow along with celebrity culture. So, of course, I’m a little obsessed with the budding romance between Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce. I’m a Taylor Swift fan, but I don’t know every song by heart like the most ardent Swifties. And while I know football, I admit I didn’t know about Travis Kelce and his brother Jason until this past season’s Super Bowl in which their respective teams, the Kansas City Chiefs and the Philadelphia Eagles, faced off. I became enamored with their mother Donna as did most NFL fans during the lead up to the big game. Truthfully, the spotlight on Taylor and Travis has increased my level of attention in the last few weeks. I’ve now listened to Travis’ and Jason’s “New Heights” podcast, and we watched the Amazon documentary about Jason and his family. I’ve read articles trying to pinpoint exactly why we are so locked in on their burgeoning relationship. My husband Ben and I have talked about it too. I’ve gone down the rabbit hole, and I couldn’t be more pleased. But why do we care so much? 

For me, as a mom of three boys and a daughter, my appreciation is partly rooted in the brothers’ relationship. I love the way Travis and Jason interact on their podcast. They have a tight relationship, which also includes Jason’s wife and daughters. The boys continually make fun of one another and laugh uproariously at their childhood stories and current events as well. They’re irreverent and potty mouthed at times. In short, they’re hilarious. They give me hope that the endless, and at times, merciless teasing that goes on at my house may translate into adult friendships that are not merely obligatory but healthy, fun, and close knit. 

As for the Taylor and Travis romance, those of us who admire Taylor want her to find a man who appreciates and respects her. And from what we’ve seen so far, Travis is protective and, being highly successful in his own right, not threatened by her stardom. We want them to work together as a couple. I think this demonstrates that despite all that’s wrong with our society, we love the idea of people falling in love. We want to bear witness to the first blush of romance. Love still matters, and we all crave it for ourselves and our beloved celebrities. 

I return once more to the concept of hope. While we watch much of the world burn and the threats of mayhem increase, we need something, anything, that gives us hope. Perhaps our focus on Taylor and Travis serves as a distraction, but I’m actually fine with that. I’m not suggesting we turn a blind eye to the horrors of the world right now, not by any means. But I think we also need glimmers of hope and love so that we don’t drown in the despair that could so easily overwhelm us. Maybe after we have our celebrity-based diversion, we can reconnect with the reality of the world with a better perspective based on love and hope. Are you ready for it? I am.    

Our Goldendoodle Cypress is six years old and displays a lot of human-like traits. Cy has a spot-on internal clock. He might as well be wearing a watch. At 11:00, he lets you know it’s time for his lunch bone, at 5:00 it’s dinner, and 9:00 it’s his bedtime snack. When he informs you of food/treat time, he will hit you with his paw – firmly and without equivocation. He will not relent until you get up to feed him. This is about as aggressive as he ever gets, but you know without a doubt when you’re approaching feeding time. 

Most of time, though, Cy comes to you and gently lays a paw on your arm or leg and looks up at you with his puppy dog eyes. That’s when you know that he needs you to simply spend time petting him. I think he could be content for hours if someone will just pet him. Cy spent the first few months of his life at our kids’ favorite place, Camp Olympia, as part of the Puppies in Training program, which teaches young campers how to take care of dogs. As such, Cy was constantly petted and pampered as a puppy before we adopted him. We joke that Cy’s love language is most definitely physical touch. When he demands attention in these circumstances, he is simply ensuring his love tank is refilled. 

Cy might be on to something. He is attuned to his body and his needs. When Cy needs help or attention, he asks for it. Obviously, he’s a dog so he doesn’t overthink whether he should find his humans and make his needs known, he just does it. What if we acted similarly? When we need something, what if we simply asked for it? Over the years, I’ve heard a lot of women talk about how their partners, husbands, friends, don’t get them or help them. It can be as minor as the other person walking by unfolded laundry for days on end without bothering to take a turn folding. Or it can be more serious when they don’t notice that we’re not ourselves and are struggling.

But oftentimes, we don’t express what we need in our relationships. We expect others to read our minds. If they can’t or don’t, we might feel resentment and discontent. I’ve spent many hours in group settings reminding women that we cannot get our needs met unless we tell people what we need. I’ve explained this to my young adult daughter as she navigates new types of relationships. And I’ve had friends remind me of the same thing when I fall into the same trap of believing someone should intuitively know what I need even though I’ve gone quiet. When we build a wall by refusing to ask for help, we guarantee our desires will not be met. Open communication is the key to ensuring we all come closer to getting what we want or need. 

We can learn lessons in many ways. My dog reminded me that it’s okay to ask for the love and attention we need, when we need it. The people in our lives will feel grateful that we’ve lessened the guess work and given them the framework to help us. In that way, everyone wins.

My son Alex was telling me about his day in sixth grade after I picked him up from school when he explained he’d become tired during the afternoon. He said he hit a low point but then realized he hadn’t been drinking enough water. He said he drank some water and it “brought him back to life.” That reminded me of one day when we were at Disney World this summer and it was extremely hot. We were in a long line outside when Alex said he was thirsty. I didn’t have any water to give him at that time, so I offered him a piece of gum thinking that might help. “That won’t give me salvation,” he huffed. I think he meant saliva, but I appreciated the way he mistakenly phrased his frustration. He needed replenishment in both circumstances. Thankfully, he recognized his need and sought it out.  

On the other hand, my daughter Riley doesn’t always see what’s coming until it’s almost too late. She is very susceptible to becoming “hangry.” This phenomenon happens when a person needs food desperately but has waited too long to eat and is now angry with everyone and about everything. It’s almost become a joke in our family. I say almost because the results of her hanger can still be unsettling. She’s called from college upset or mad about something, and later texted that it turned out she hadn’t eaten in a while so that could’ve been partly responsible for her mood. I told my husband Ben that maybe I should first ask if she’s had anything to eat when she calls in a tiff. We’ve told her not to make big decisions or tell anyone off until she determines whether she’s hungry. The girl needs to carry a granola bar with her constantly just in case. 

We don’t always realize when we need restoration. Even though there are times when we probably should recognize we are nearing empty physically, mentally, or emotionally because we are going through a stressful or hectic season. Instead, we usually barrel ahead ignoring the signs or the nagging sense that we are not, in fact, okay. And while water, food, and a good nap can solve many problems, we need to determine what else we need when we are struggling.

When I find myself depleted, I examine what I could do help myself, and I usually find that I’ve failed to do the very things that could provide nourishment for my soul. I need make sure I’ve taken my medication. I need to write to process my feelings and ground myself in my truth. I need to visit with my friends and talk to my therapist. I also need some alone time to reset but not so much that I isolate completely. I need to go to church. I need to look at my schedule so that I am neither overwhelmed nor underwhelmed with activities. I need to watch a good rom-com to lift my spirits because I know it will have a happy ending. I need to read a good book. 

I’m not saying that these actions work all the time. Sometimes, life can’t be put back together with a simple list like mine, but I know to try them first. To fall back on what’s worked in the past to try and heal the present. If we could all spend some time thinking about the strategies that work best for us, we can better default to them instead of feeling completely lost when we seem to be losing our way. Maybe then we can bounce back to life just a little easier.