This week I made an impromptu trip to Los Angeles for a funeral. The wife of my mentor, Bob Martin, unexpectedly passed away in her sleep. Without a second thought, I flew to California to support him and attend the memorial service.

Bob’s wife was a lovely woman named Babette Marie Martin. She raised 3 awesome children and loved Elvis.

Her eulogy was a short letter written by Bob, read aloud to the audience by a friend. Then Amazing Grace began playing, with an accompanying video of Il Dovo performing live at the coliseum in Rome.

Bob is a former Captain of the Los Angeles Police Department, VP of Gavin de Becker & Associates and an internationally known expert on threat assessment and violence prevention. This guy has the talent, knowledge and ability to inspire a crowd to laugh, to cry and to understand humanity a little more – all in the same speech. The fact he opted to share just a few words and feature a single song for his life partner’s final memoriam seemed simple, yet profound.

And so it was.

Because life is just that – a song. It’s a melody that has highs and lows, a perfect harmony when we join our life with another, a bass line that varies between steady and irregular as life quickens and calms, and an occasional guitar solo when it’s our time to take center stage and shine, shine, shine. Sometimes our song is hard rock, other times classical.

But the main thing that guides music is TIME.

For all of us, time is ticking like a metronome’s steady beat. When life is over, we fade into silence. But the band marches on. The music continues. It’s just someone else’s solo…another generation’s song.

As I left the cemetery, I didn’t feel the darkness of death. Somehow, the air felt lighter. Angels were everywhere. Hope abounded.

I was so moved by Bob for knowing his wife so well and loving her so much, that words weren’t necessary to summarize her impact on the world and the family they built together.

Maya Angelou once said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Bob has taught me a lot over the past decade as my mentor. But yesterday he offered me a new lesson, similar to Ms. Angelou’s message.

A life truly lived cannot be adequately eulogized with words.

As a friend and I drove away from the memorial service and merged onto the freeway, we realized our status as legal carpoolers (a big deal for LA folks) and took full advantage of the less trafficked carpool lane. But soon I realized I had to get out of the carpool zone and across several lanes of traffic to catch our next exit.

Quick driving lesson for anyone who gets behind the wheel in LA: This maneuver is NOT legal if there are 2 yellow lines on the pavement. I learned this fun fact via flashing lights in my rearview mirror, and a LAPD officer pulling me over across 5 lanes of traffic to tell me so.

I don’t have good odds when it comes to cops and traffic violations. Historically I have been ticketed to the fullest extent, in 100% of the occurrences I’ve been pulled over. Thinking today would be no different; I gave the officer my driver’s license and car rental information and answered all his questions.

This time I definitely had some pity cards to whip out, including being a crunchy out-of-state Coloradan, visibly pregnant and traveling with another gal even more visibly pregnant than me. (We both stuck out our stomachs as far as possible when he approached the car. Worth a shot, right?)

He asked where we were coming from, and I told him a funeral. The officer took all my documents and went back to his car for a few minutes. I quasi-jokingly told my co-pilot that any cop who gives a ticket to two pregnant women driving home from a cemetery would surely go to hell.

He came back to the car and gave me a warning. Wow, seriously? Awesome! I thought warnings were only given to people who can cry on cue or have really big boobs. (I possess neither.)

Points scored for the LAPD. The officer was so kind, and even gave us directions back to the freeway with a nod and a smile.

Later that evening, I couldn’t help but think the highs and lows of the day were more than just going through the rituals of death and brushes with the law. Yes, there was something else at work.

It was amazing grace.

Grace gives us the freedom to really live, the liberation to help us die, the patience to drive in Los Angeles during rush hour, the empathy to know when someone needs a break and the motivation to leave this world a little better than we found it.

I depart California with a mortal reminder that none of us know when our song will be over.  So live the life you were intended to, and sing your bloody guts out.

This post is dedicated to the memory of Babette Martin and all who loved her.
Published with the permission of Bob Martin.

While a new year encourages serious self-critique and making lists of things to change, I just wanted to provide a friendly reminder that you are already perfect.

Oprah once said, “Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right.” She implies we’ve been getting it wrong, and granted, some years are better than others. But if you think about it, common resolutions like making money, finding “happiness” or losing weight aren’t about us. They are about how we think the world wants us to be. Rich, happy and hot. (and often quite empty…)

The re-set button we call New Years should be less about improving what has been, and more about what is. What do we really want and why are we really here? What does happiness even mean to us?

This week I swept the love of my life to the mountains for a few days. I recommend a mind-clearing getaway like this, regardless if you are single or have a partner, at least twice a year. Amidst parenthood, work, life, stress, family – there was a lot of catching up to do, even though we spend so much time together. Furthermore, there were realizations about myself that were only possible to be revealed in the crisp stillness you find early in the morning, at 12,000 feet, accompanied by the soundtrack of Clear Creek rushing below our hotel balcony. (A photo of my view as I write this is posted above.)

In peace, there are answers.

This year I’m going to take my own advice from a previous blog post to get organized, clear and focused. But beyond that, my new years resolution for 2012 is to live an authentic life. According to Dictionary.com, the meaning of the word authentic is: not false or copied; genuine; real. These are the lives we are meant to lead, not to be a carbon copy of someone else or a life that someone else wants you to live.

So on the eve of another chance to get it right, answer this. What true purpose have you been ignoring? What life change has been nagging at you, but seems too terrifying or inconvenient to acknowledge? What truth has gone unacknowledged, or unsaid? How can you live more authentically this year?

Jazz legend Chuck Mangione once said, “A studio recording is perfection, but emotion and passion come only when you turn on the machine and go for the groove. If you do that with no mistakes, it sounds beautiful.”

In 2012 and beyond, I wish for you the stillness necessary to seek your truth, abundant self-permission to live your life and a jammin’ bassline to keep your groove.

Each June for the past decade, the entire month has been an absolute emotional train wreck for me. My friend Shannon, who inspired GFB back in 2001 after a brave fight against a serial killer, was murdered on June 12th. Her birthday is June 21st, a glorious reminder she was born – but also that she is gone.

As anyone who has a painful anniversary can attest to, even happy occasions have a funny way of being sad. Side Note: Please keep this in mind as the holidays are upon us. Remember to be extra kind and give extra space to those in pain – even if much time has passed since their loss or trauma. We all heal in our own divine time.

This past June sucked as usual, as I wallowed in 10 years of painful memories. But something happened in July, right after it was over. I felt this weird closure, like I was done with the grief and the ritualistic mourning period that set in each summer. It freaked me out a little, to be honest. It’s amazing how comfortable, even co-dependent, we can become with our life’s pain.

I started seeing that maybe June has always been a much bigger gift than a curse. I began to find meaning in everything that happens (even the bad stuff) and for the first time began to believe that we are all more interconnected – to each other, to our loved ones past and present, to the Universe – than is comfortable for most people to accept.

Earlier this Fall, I learned I was pregnant. And the due date?
June 2012

(Like the ‘knocked up’ shirt? Yeah, I’m classy like that.)

This new life, which according to those baby websites is about the size of a lime, has altered my outlook on the month of June forever. Instead of associating those 30 days with loss, I will now link it to growth. Growth of our family. Growth to my already heaping pile of blessings. Growth to this world, in hopefully a very positive way.

If you think about it, having one bad month a year for 10 years straight totals 300 days – almost a calendar year of misery. Then this little zygote who makes me puke in public and go to bed at 8pm changes everything.

And that, in itself, is a holiday miracle.

Kenny Rogers once sang, “You gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, know when to run…” Kenny boy, you are so wise! Yet walking away from people, from relationships, from jobs – well, there’s a lot of fear in these choices. What many people don’t realize is that sometimes walking away is the best gift you can give yourself, and the world.

As women, we do a lot. We think a lot. We care a lot – sometimes too much, about the wrong things. But sometimes, we nail it – and that’s when success happens. I was part lucky, part ADHD when I started Girls Fight Back. Due to some cultural resistance, I can’t think of a rougher business to start than one that involves self-defense, but this was my destiny. With a stellar team at my side, we made it work. Ten years later, we are doing well even during a rough economy. However, this story may have ended differently, had I not walked away for awhile. Let me explain…

I started this company at the age of 23 during a scary, violent time. My friend Shannon was murdered in June 2001, and just 3 months later was 9/11. Shannon was killed at the very “safe” college campus we both attended, and 9/11 hit pretty close to home, since I was working in NYC at the time and commuted to the World Trade Center each day. Overall, I started GFB under great emotion, intense anxiety and tremendous emotional pain. In hindsight, this may have been the worst possible time to start a business….or the best.

In 2010, after 9 years of going full-throttle, I was still loving my work – but I was also burned out. For a long time, this made me feel guilty. I had some sort of weird feelings of obligation to lead GFB forward. Feelings like these are a breeding ground for resentment to grow. What is important to remember is under most circumstances, WE DO THIS TO OURSELVES. One day I looked around at this amazing team I had in place, and knew I could take a break. In perfect divine timing, I was given an opportunity to work as a consultant for Ashoka Changemakers.

So I changed my title on LinkedIn from “Founder & CEO” of GFB to simply “Founder.” Then for a year, I worked closely with entrepreneurs across the globe working to start sustainable companies and organizations, but also change the world in the process. I was absolutely blown away by their big ambitions, sometimes under extremely difficult circumstances like gender inequality or political corruption. These entrepreneurs were not phased, and treated such barriers to success like any other obstacle that could be overcome. Ashoka itself is a tremendous organization with global impact, and I doubt I will ever meet people who are more brilliant or forward-thinking. On the global conference call where my departure was announced last month I told them, “I didn’t come to Changemakers because I needed a job. I came here because I needed a break. Thank you for that.”

Taking that year-long sebattical was one of the best things I have ever done. I was able to share so much, and learn so much. In the process, I got re-invigorated about Girls Fight Back, and my eyes were opened to new opportunities to teach and empower women. But none of this would have happened if I had never walked away.

If you are feeling trapped, overwhelmed, indecisive or resentful of your work – I encourage you to do the same. I know there may be some financial repercussions in doing so, however if you set a clear intention, the universe hollers back. In a society so focused on always DOING, I propose the exact opposite. Just BE. Stop. Think. Do an about face. Broaden your horizons. Learn from others. Step outside your comfort zone. Analyze your life/work from a neutral place, which can only happen once there is some distance – then see what is revealed to you.

So how did my year away work out for me? Well, I decided to continue consulting with companies and organizations that excite me so I never get stagnant again. But my main focus is on running a company that is changing the world for women. Today I added “Founder & CEO of Girls Fight Back” to my LinkedIn profile, and it feels damn good to be back.

In September 2001, I was working as a temp at in the publicity department at Miramax Films in New York City. It was a short-term gig to make some cash, while launching Girls Fight Back on the side. At the time I was living in Hoboken, NJ (located just across the Hudson River) and I commuted each day via PATH train to the World Trade Center. From there, I had a short walk or subway ride to my office in Tribeca, a neighborhood in lower Manhattan.

Each morning I would get off the underground PATH train, and walk to the longest, tallest escalator ever…which took me up to ground level at WTC. While standing on that escalator – which I swear took at least 5 solid minutes to ride to the top – there was a huge jumbotron to look at. It was super wide and bright, similar to what adorns the back wall at a major league baseball game. Every day it had fun little cartoons and advertisements. My favorite was this  dancing, golden sun that said “Good morning!” The happy sun did somersaults and winked at me. It made me smile, every single day.

Ten years later, I miss the grandiosity of the WTC. I miss the 2,977 innocent people we lost that day – even though I never met them. I miss feeling safe in my country. And I miss that impish, frolicking sun who reminded me that each day was meant to be lived with a grin.

Now it’s my responsibility to remind myself how precious each day is, and 9/11 certainly provided a poignant reminder of just how fragile we are.

Yes, today is a sad day. But if we sit alone in the dark, paralyzed with fear by a memory – that’s when the bad guys win.

Today and always, do this world a favor and shine on.

Hey, it’s Friday – and you know what that means…somebody just got fired! It always seems to happen at the end of the week. Strategically planned for a full weekend of sobbing while binge drinking, perhaps?

A good friend of mine just got canned for job performance reasons. Lucky for him, he’s naturally entrepreneurial – and it appears that in order to start and run a successful company, you must have been gloriously fired at least once. Hey, look at folks like Harvey Mackay (bestselling author). He wrote an entire book about famous people that got the axe! So if you like the idea of being in the same boat as folks like Larry King and Mayor Bloomberg, then keep reading as I make a suggestion to help repair your tattered self-esteem.

Last time I got fired, I was working in television broadcasting in New York, and the industry tends to “eat its young” in the compassion department. In all fairness, I’m a pretty sucky employee so I probably had it coming. It occurred during the the darkest time of my life, but I am still so grateful to the guy who canned me. But really, how do you express that? I mean, without the severe awkwardness of telling them so?

I have an idea. If you ever get terminated, handle it Jimmy Fallon style and write a thank you note. Because really, getting dissed and dismissed is usually the best thing that can ever happen to you…even if it doesn’t feel that way in the moment. Jimmy’s thank you notes are my favorite thing about Late Night. Well, that and his raps with Justin Timberlake. And The Roots. And the fact I once heard on a radio interview that Jimmy’s childhood career choice was to be a Catholic priest…

I am a big thank you note writer myself (and to be clear, I practice the ancient art of handwriting when doing so) and thought it would be sweet to write a little letter to my former boss who kicked me to the curb, to give you an example. (And yes, I am playing soft, yet slightly creepy music in the background to properly emulate the process at Late Night.) I hope this technique might help my recently unemployed friend find some amusement in his situation – even if temporarily. We don’t have time in this life to mourn endings that are merely hidden beginnings!

Thank you, guy who fired me. You were kinda a huge jerk about the whole thing, and the fact I was a poster child for that dastardly “quarter life crisis” thing really didn’t make your timing awesome. In fact, I was in downright hell at the time, which is why I’m even more grateful to you! It’s because of you I had my very first Oprah “ah-ha moment”, which we all know is critical to a person’s success in life. My moment was realizing, “Wow, my life sucks so insanely bad that there must be something bigger here.” With that oddly generated faith, I started my first company at age 23 and today it’s successful and helping people. So while you were on my Billy Madison “list of people to kill” for awhile there, I just wanted to say you’ve been officially transferred to “list of d-bags that turned out to be helpful”.
Love,
Erin

We hear about people dying everyday in our 24-hour news culture, and there’s always that moment of shock – some longer than others. Regardless how tortured the person was or how anticipated their demise, the news serves as a reminder of our our own mortality. I often jokingly say my nickname is “Princess of Darkness” because I’m so comfortable with death and dying. I’ve lost many friends and family members since I was quite young, and find myself oddly at ease under these circumstances.

But yesterday was different. I was offline for the holiday weekend and late to get the news, but an online friend of mine named Trey Pennington took his own life on Sunday. Trey was only 46, and a father of six children. He was an international speaker, consultant and all-around superstar on marketing and social media. I had only been Facebook and Twitter friends with him for several years, but for some reason I felt like I got punched in the stomach when I heard. The details only made it worse. He shot himself under a large oak tree outside his church in Greenville, SC while fellow church-goers pleaded with him not to do it. Undoubtedly there is so much more to this story, and I’m not going to play armchair quarterback on his life. But from what I knew of him, he was a humble rock star…and I am so glad to have known him, albeit on the Internet.

This isn’t a post about suicide or depression, since I’m not an expert on either issue. But I have dealt with mental health issues in my family and lost people to suicide. Furthermore, I do know a bit about violence…but today I’m not talking about the kind people commit against each other. His death has made me think a lot about the self-violence we inflict upon ourselves.

The thoughts, the fears, the anxieties that run through our minds absolutely destroy our essence. Mentally, self-violence takes over our thoughts and prevents greatness. Emotionally, self-violence digs into our hearts and our most treasured relationships. Physically, the stress inflicted from self-violence causes a whole host of ailments that make walking through this life even more painful. Sometimes the culmination of it all leads us to mistakenly believe there is no way out…

Suicide isn’t known for leaving behind a sense of peace or resolution, and I have read many tweets from Trey’s friends, expressing remorse about not doing more to help him. Maybe they are right. Maybe there is something magical they could have done or said to save him. Or maybe not. We’ll never know. The real question is, will they perpetuate the cycle of self-violence and beat themselves up for the rest of their lives, pointlessly wondering “what if?”

While certainly easier said than done, I believe the best way to honor people lost to suicide is to free ourselves from the same demons that took our loved one. Because really, I’m not sure what makes me more sad – the fact people die by suicide, or the idea people live with such tremendous pain before they go.

I’d like to write this quick thank-you note to my community of family, friends, fans and colleagues who sent me and the McNamara family well-wishes this past weekend. As you may know, Sunday marked the 10-year anniversary of the murder of Shannon McNamara, who is my angel, my boss and my inspiration for Girls Fight Back. (and how to live a good life in general…)

While I sometimes despise the fact this “anniversary” still holds power over me even a decade later, it’s true. But as Carl Jung said, “What you resist, persists.” So this year I didn’t fight it, and instead just let the day happen, sadness and all. I spent time with some of my favorite people, and did some day drinking too, which always seems to cheer me up. (sunshine + friends + beer = awesome)

In addition to just laying low with my peeps, I also wrote the first chapter of my next book, which is a how-to guide for creating social change. If you’ve ever wondered to yourself, “How can I make a difference” or pondered starting a business or non-profit for this purpose, this book is for you. It’s written with the 23-year-old version of myself in mind, back when I was first starting Girls Fight Back and had so much to learn. I hope it helps people.

I have learned that even though we have sad times or hard times, that doesn’t mean we’re defeated. Starting this book, on that particular day, was my little act of defiance. Even though a violent man took one of my favorite people from this earth, and this time of year continues to bum me out, it doesn’t mean he took her good spirit which lives on through GFB and the people who loved her. You can take a life, but you can’t take a spirit. And ten years later, I feel her energizing this mission stronger than ever.

If you’re in any of my social networks or follow GFB on Facebook or Twitter, you’ve probably seen the series of blog posts from our greatest influencers over the past ten years. If not, check out all their birthday wishes here on the GFB blog. The posts make me proud of all we’ve accomplished…and most of them make me cry! (in a good way…)

Thanks again for all the love and support.

Strong. Resilient. Spirited. Unified.
-erin

Today I’d like to discuss a New York Times bestseller book written by my girl power comrade and she-hero, Kris Carr. The book is called Crazy Sexy Diet, but let me begin with a few disclaimers about the title breakdown. Someone once told me “I’m kinda crazy” in a good way. (Backhanded compliment? Truth hurts?) As for sexy…depends on the definition. (But if this momma-of-a-toddler gets a shower, my chances of achieving outward sexiness drastically improve!) And then there’s the diet thing. (I try not to eat grease, does that count?) So perhaps today’s featured diet book might come as a surprise to you. Maybe this isn’t my typical reading, but I know Kris and this self-proclaimed wellness warrior just doesn’t know how to disappoint.

This book contains gobs of info on how to live healthier, top to bottom, and Kris does a great job making the tone friendly. A cancer survivor, Kris’s disease (which she refers to as her “shit pickle”) could not be treated, so she set out of a journey of self-healing. Her successful treatment (the very short version) has been cutting stress, exercising, breathing and eating like a veg-head. Some stuff is common sense, but delivered in a way that makes you stop reading and say “wow” out loud, in a way like something just clicked in your brain. (Am I the only person that does this?)

Confession time: I’m a carnivore. Like, the kind of meat-eater that gets offended by vegetarianism as a concept. And I have to tell you, after reading chapter 4, Tushie & Milk Mustaches, I put down my book and had a little moment of enlightenment. For the first time I really thought about meat, where it comes from, why we eat it, if we eat too much and what it would be like to try something different. This book is effective, because it does not scare you into these ideas. Instead Kris presents you with facts, and this pink-streaked-sister lets you run with the information at your own speed.

I find it easy to be horrified into life changes when they make so much sense, especially for my kid. He’s almost 2, and reading about all the ridiculous hormones they are pumping into animals (which is transferred to the eater in some way) absolutely sickened me. What adult hasn’t looked at kids these days and scratched their heads, wondering why things are so different now? Sure, lots of things change and generations roll with that…but our Standard American Diet (Kris fittingly calls it “SAD”) may be the reason that kids’ lifetimes become shorter than their parents’. I want my kiddo to have a healthier and longer life than me and his grandparents.

I read several of the glowing 100+ reviews on Amazon, and big note to all authors out there: Follow Kris’s lead. She knows how to authentically build a community that are incredibly loyal. They responded when she asked for their help to make the book a NYT bestseller…and it happened. Kris’s success is not a miracle of the modern publishing industry or luck. It is a result of being dedicated to a message that helps people, and those people hollerin’ back.

That said, I saw a non-glowing review about this book that I’d like to respond to. One person claimed that Kris’s message is misogynistic for having the word “sexy” in the title. This reader argued that being sexy isn’t what we should be striving for, just for the sake of pleasing men. While I get what she’s saying, mostly because I’ve heard this same complaint over the past 10 years with Girls Fight Back, I think it’s ignorant. It’s also resistance to damn good marketing. Then again, maybe we just have a different definition of sexy, or perhaps there are two versions: inward and outward sexiness. To me, sexy is more about the inward stuff, the thoughts/feelings you have about yourself. Sexy is feeling powerful. Sexy is confidence. Sexy is believing you’re beautiful, no matter what you look like. Sexy is being courageous enough to wrestle your shit pickle to the ground, whatever it may be (illness, divorce, being unemployed, etc)…then standing up and walking away with a big freakin’ trophy. And if you look damn good while doing so, and someone finds you sexually irresistible in the process, then YEE HAW Xena Warrior Princess!

Overall I find it easy to trust someone whose diet is also her cancer treatment plan. The fact she makes this book hilarious to read is merely blended veggies in a margarita glass (more appropriate than “icing on the cake”). Big props to Kris and her team at Crazy Sexy Life. Now I’m gonna conclude by busting out a phrase I heard often while living in New Jersey: DO YOURSELF A FAVOR and go buy this book!

Like most people hearing about the recent suicides committed by young people that were bullied or humiliated – I’m outraged. And sad. And terrified for our youth. For all of us, especially my friends in the LGBTQ community, the heartbreak of these lives lost is unnecessary and intolerable. This is why I am disappointed with the well-intentioned message of “it gets better” as the only unified public response to these tragic deaths.

Before I go any further, let me be clear that I understand what these celebrities and well-meaning people are getting at when they assure these young, suffering kids that someday they won’t be socially tortured anymore. But think back to when you were 13…could you even fathom being 18 and graduated from high school? It sounds like an eternity. Yes, young people may intellectually agree it will get better in time – but many wonder how they can survive that long.

Telling kids “it gets better” is a kind and soothing thing to say. But it isn’t addressing the depth of despair these young people are faced with. From what I’ve seen in the schools, it’s almost insulting. Bullying, regardless of why the individual is being targeted, is a form of violence. Would we tell a person in a violent relationship that it gets better? Then send her home to her abuser with no intervention, education or proactive strategy to help her survive? Probably not. Then why are we sending our bullied youth, especially LGBTQ students, into that same frightening situation EVERY SINGLE DAY at school?

Friends, I think we can do more. I think we can provide more hope, more wisdom, more practical life skills than just sitting in our rocking chairs reminiscing about our own instances of being bullied and telling young people someday the situation will improve. While the severity of bullying varies, most people recollect being pushed around as a young person. I was bullied in middle school for being an all-around dork, but when the final bell rang, I left school and was safe at home with my family. I had a chance to re-group, re-charge and try to build up my confidence again. But it’s worse now. With today’s technology being woven through every fiber of our lives, victims cannot escape. The dread and doom follows them 24/7. Add the fact our society is riddled with homophobia, and we have a recipe for suicide.

But enough ranting…how do we make life better for these kids? I suggest we start with adopting a new term for bullying. How about Social Violence? We can rank it like other violent crimes – 1^st, 2^nd and 3^rd degrees to determine severity. Once it’s officially a crime, let’s start prosecuting.

Then let’s get proactive. We can start by utilizing, supporting and publicizing organizations like The Trevor Project that provides suicide prevention efforts to LGBTQ youth. As a society, let’s all be good bystanders – get involved, speak up and empower our kids to do the same. Become a mentor and take one of these troubled youths under your wing. Let’s encourage bullied students to fight back in their own way. Obviously not by using violence, but by starting clubs, changing policy in their districts or by organizing educational programs/workshops to their schools. If we empower these young people to use their voice as a vehicle for change, they have a way to channel their hurt and anger.

Countless improvements to our society have emerged from unspeakable pain and discrimination. When it comes to social violence, we are faced with an opportunity, right now. Will we seize it? Or just wait for it to get better?

I’m no Ellen Degeneres, but maybe I’ll make a video of my own. The main themes will be…

You are a survivor.
You don’t deserve this.
You can change the world.