Tag: she leaves a little sparkle

Grief

Kristine Binder

Grief is a strange, relentless companion. It comes in waves, some so powerful they knock me off my feet, while others gently lap at my ankles before receding into the background. Lately, though, the waves feel more like a storm. The world is so heavy right now, and I can feel that weight pressing down on my chest. Everywhere I turn, there seems to be another loss, another heartbreak, another reason to grieve.
Losing my dad has been a pain I can hardly describe. It’s not just the absence of his voice or his laugh—it’s the absence of his presence in my life, the anchor he provided, the memories we’ll never create. On top of that, dear friends of mine are mourning loved ones. A young person I cherished as if they were my own has left this world far too soon. Each loss feels like another stone added to the pile I carry, threatening to bury me.There are moments when it all feels so overwhelming that I want to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head, and disappear. The thought of facing another day, carrying another burden, is sometimes too much to bear. But then there are other moments—moments when that grief fuels a fire in me to fight. To show up for my children, my students, my community. To prove that love and resilience can be louder than hate and despair.
Being my mother’s emergency contact now is a new weight I hadn’t prepared for. It’s a role that feels heavy with responsibility and the reminder of how fragile life is. Sometimes, the pressure of it all feels like it might crush me. But then I remember: forward is my pace. Even if it’s just baby steps, I keep moving. One foot in front of the other. One moment at a time.
Grief, I’ve learned, doesn’t go away. It shifts, it changes, and it continues to wash over me in unexpected moments. Some days, I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water. Other days, I find glimmers of peace when the waves recede. But within those waves, I try to find the strength to swim. To reach out to others. To remind myself that while the world feels heavy, we don’t have to carry it alone.
Peace is not always easy to find, but it is there—waiting in the moments when the waves recede, offering us the chance to catch our breath. Let’s take those baby steps together, reminding ourselves that we don’t have to face it alone. In the moments when the storm calms, we can find breath, and maybe even hope, together.
If you’re reading this and you’re feeling the weight of your own grief, know that you’re not alone. Take those baby steps, no matter how small. Cry if you need to. Rest if you can. Fight when you’re ready. And remember: forward is always a pace.
Peace,
#tutulady
#forwardisapace

Deserving

Kristine Binder

The world shifted on January 20, 2025. So much of what we once knew and relied on seems to have vanished. Countless people now feel unsafe in their own country, and those who love them are grappling with helplessness.
I wish I could offer something profound or inspirational, but I don’t have all the answers. I’m not here to lead the way. I’m here to sit in this moment—in all its messiness—right alongside you. I’ll sit with these feelings for a while longer, and then I’ll do what I do best: share kindness and love. I’ll rise to protect those I love and care for. I’ll fight for the vulnerable.
Everyone deserves to feel safe, loved, and valued—whether at home, in school, at work, or in their communities. No one should endure rejection, discrimination, or harm because of who they are, where they are from  or who they love. The attacks on LGBTQIA+ and immigrant communities are not just political; they are assaults on human dignity. They fracture families, friendships, and communities, and they serve no purpose but to spread division and pain.
To every transgender, queer, nonbinary, and marginalized individual: Your life MATTERS. You are seen. You are powerful. Your life has purpose and meaning. Walking in your truth is an act of courage and strength, and every step you take toward being your authentic self shows the resilience that lies within you. You are deserving of love, respect, and kindness. Your existence brings light and beauty to the world. Please remember that you are valued, you are enough, and you are deeply loved. The world is brighter and better because of you. 
I will continue to show up, speak up, and stand up for immigrant and vulnerable communities. Advocacy has always been a part of who I am, but now I’m stepping fully into that role with unwavering determination. We can feel everything—grief, fear, anger—but then we move forward. We count down the days of the next four years, yes, but let’s not forget that we can make a difference much sooner by taking action right now.
Take the time you need to process your feelings. If you need a hug, a listening ear, or just someone to sit with you in the stillness, I’m here. But I won’t let you stay in that place too long. We have work to do.
I love you.
You matter.
You belong.
Together, we rise, move forward, to create a better, kinder, more accepting world.

Peace,
#tutulady
#forwardisapace

Choose

Kristine Binder

Every morning, I take a walk. Sometimes it’s with my dog, but yesterday, it was just me. It was warm out as I rounded the corner to head back home. I noticed a young man who seemed a bit overwhelmed.
As I crossed the street and got closer, I asked if he needed any help, assuring him that I wasn’t trying to be creepy, just helpful. He looked at me and started to tear up. I felt horrible and quickly said, “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He explained that he was having a rough morning because he was starting a new job and was extremely nervous. Tears fell as he tried to wipe the sweat off his face. I pulled a napkin out of my pocket and helped him, since his hands were full.
I then asked where he was headed and if he’d like some company on the rest of his walk, since I was headed home. He said yes, and we walked and talked. He shared his worries about the new job and some personal stories. I listened and empathized.
When we arrived at the entrance to his new workplace, I wished him good luck and we said our goodbyes. As I walked the rest of the way home, I was filled with so many emotions.
There are no coincidences, only God incidents. We are put where we are needed; we just need to be aware. We never know what people are going through, and sometimes a simple act of kindness can make a life-changing difference.
Choose Kindness.
Choose Love.
Peace.
#tutulady
#forwardisapace

Lost

Kristine Binder

There are days when I focus on what I lost and days when I focus on all I gained. The good usually outweighs the bad, but some days I still wonder…
As a parent, I often found myself lost in the divorce process without any clear direction of my own. This lack of direction led me to miss out on precious opportunities and strained the relationships I had with my children. The old adage, “if you can see it, you can be it,” didn’t seem to apply to me. All I could see were my own flaws, inadequacies, and unresolved traumas. I had no one to turn to, no role model to guide me on how to be a better parent or even how to just be. In this process, I feel I failed my children and lost a part of them.
Watching my kids grow up and become independent has been both a source of immense pride and a bittersweet reminder of the time and connection I feel I lost. Our job as parents is to create independent adults who can navigate the world on their own, and in this, I believe I succeeded. I am incredibly proud of each of my children. They have grown into wonderfully productive and amazing adults. However, I often wish their growth had happened in a more nurturing and supportive environment rather than under the pressures and challenges we faced.
I can’t help but wonder how different things might have been. Would our relationships be stronger if circumstances had been different? Perhaps. But perhaps something else would have strained our bonds. It’s impossible to know for sure. What I do know is that once I was able to ‘just be their mom,’ I did my best with the tools and knowledge I had.
Parenting is a journey without a definitive guidebook. Each of us stumbles through it even in the best of circumstances, learning as we go, often making mistakes along the way. I have made many, and for those, I will continue to apologize. My hope is that someday, my children will offer me grace and forgiveness. In the meantime, I hold onto the moments of connection and the pride I feel for the incredible individuals they are and have become.
I realize that every parent faces their own struggles and triumphs. It’s easy to focus on the losses and the “what ifs”, but it’s equally important to acknowledge the gains and the growth. My children’s resilience and success are testaments to their strength and the unwavering love that I have always had, and always will have, for them. And for that, I am profoundly grateful.
Peace,
#tutulady
#forwardisapace

Entitled

Kristine Binder

This morning, I went out for a run by myself. It was my own neighborhood, broad daylight, at 6am. As I waited to cross the street at a crosswalk, a car turned right in front of me. A man in a Honda SUV rolled down his passenger side window, looked at me, and said, “Can I ask you something?” I looked at him, confused, and said, “Excuse me?”
He asked again, “Can I ask you something?” I said nothing, and then he said, “Are you single? You’re hot!”
I glared at him with dagger eyes and said, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He smiled and sped off.
This is what women deal with on a daily basis in society: men thinking they can roll up on women and talk to them just because they’re men. I didn’t want to be bothered while I was on a run, but this man took it upon himself to not only interrupt me but to think that he was entitled to my attention.
This is misogyny. This is male entitlement.
This is the world women live in—one of constant fear of men who feel entitled. Misogyny isn’t just about overt hostility or discrimination; it’s about the pervasive, everyday encounters that remind women of their place in a male-centered society. It’s the entitlement that some men feel, believing they have the right to invade a woman’s personal space, disrupt her peace, and impose their desires on her. This toxic entitlement often extends beyond gender, affecting anyone who doesn’t fit into the narrow mold of hetero-normative, cisgender men, including those of different religions, LGBTQIA individuals, and anyone who looks different.
Running should be a simple, peaceful activity, but for women, it often comes with the added burden of dealing with unwanted attention and harassment. What should be a moment of personal freedom and health becomes overshadowed by the fear of what might happen next. This fear isn’t irrational; it’s rooted in countless experiences where a common activity turns unsafe.
This morning’s encounter is just one of countless instances where women are forced to confront the reality of misogyny and male entitlement head-on. It’s exhausting, infuriating, and, unfortunately, all too common.
All I wanted was to go for a run to release some stress and gain some sanity. What I got was another reminder that no place is completely safe for women, or anyone other than hetero-normative men.
Acknowledging these challenges is the first step toward change. By sharing our experiences and refusing to stay silent, we can push for a world where everyone can feel safe and respected, no matter where they are or what they’re doing.
Has something like this ever happened to you? What have you done? How have you handled it in the moment and the aftermath?
Peace
#tutulady
#forwardisapace