One of the biggest gifts I have given myself is exploring who I am because of who I come from. I couldn’t find  my voice where I was raised, but ironically searching for it took me right back home. When 49 members of the LGBTQ+ community at the Pulse Night Club in Orlando were killed, I was wrecked when I heard the NPR story about the first responders who went into the club after the gunfire ceased and the only sound in that silence was the incessant ringing of cell phones. That story brought home to me the loss of those voices that would never be heard again by those that loved them.

To honor those who were killed, I knew that I had to stop silencing my own voice—even in my own hometown. It has been an amazing journey – one that has highlighted how much I have held myself out from my family through my silence. As I have made room for my own voice in my family, our connection has deepened. However much time we have together, I am grateful for the continuing reverberations that are rippling forth from that commitment I made to myself that day.