Who do you want to be? you get to choose.

I’m sitting in a Starbucks I don’t usually stop at — one I drive past all the time but never actually pull into, with an hour and change to kill before a listing appointment. I’d packed a cooler that morning: sandwiches, sparkling water, iced coffee. There was a man sitting outside. I didn’t have cash on me, but I had that. So I brought him a couple sandwiches and a water. No strings attached. Just because. My 11 and 8 year old often say, “ Mom you always make sure you have money, a Snickers bar or something in case you see someone who needs something.” They’re clearly right.

Trenta Iced Coffee Extra Ice, I need my water intake after all lol!

He was so grateful. And it hit me — the Lord places people in your path, and He places opportunities in your path, to do exactly what you say you’re about. I came to this Starbucks to write this very post about choosing who you are. And there it is, playing out in real time before I even opened my laptop.

Last Friday came and went and by the time I realized what day it actually was, a tattoo had been randomly scheduled a few hours later and as a way to remember who I was and in a way that’s meaningful for me. For five years now, that date has marked something — not a wedding anniversary, not a birthday, but the day I was served divorce papers by my second husband- bank accounts drained and one of the wildest rides of my life began. The circus is still actively in session. 5 years ago though, I had no idea it was coming. It blindsided me completely. I got those papers as our 3 year old was sleeping upstairs, my mom waited by the door with me for the service processor so I could keep whatever dignity I had left.

This act of inconsideration on his part, became the gift I never would have given myself. I would have stayed. I was scared to be a two-time divorcée with five kids. Scared of what people would think, scared he’d really take my kids away like he threatened for 13+ years. But that day cracked something open instead that needed to open, and freedom walked in through the door fear had been holding shut.

I didn’t realize that gift of freedom until I was able to leave that house, and hhad some help from great therapists.

This year, I didn’t even remember the date at first — not because I was avoiding it, but because I was too busy living my life. And here’s what stopped me in my tracks: even if I had remembered, it wouldn’t have changed a single thing about who I was that day or what I chose to do with it.

Cheering on his big brother at flag football

That day, I helped a stranger. I gave back. I had a genuinely good conversation with someone I’d never met. I picked up my kids. I went out of my way to make sure my two little boys were set up for a good evening playing flag football. And at the end of it, I got some big, wonderful news — close to my heart on a mom level, not ready to share yet, but real. It felt almost like the universe rewarding a day built on kindness.

Baker, “ mom, I’m going to use you as an umbrella.” “Okay son.” lol! Flag football game for his little brother at CCV Surprise, AZ.

On the other side of that same day, someone else had their own opportunity to choose kindness — and chose the opposite instead. They chose to use two little kids and a situation as leverage for hostility, for muddying the water, for teaching everyone watching how to be jaded instead of whole.

Same day. Two completely different choices about who to be.

Here’s what I’ve come to know in nearly forty-four years on this earth, and what I’ve taught all five of my kids — ages twenty-six down to eight — until they could say it back to me without missing a beat: in a world where you could choose to be absolutely anything, choose kindness and love.

Yes, you come with wiring. Yes, there are predispositions, patterns, things that feel automatic. But underneath all of that, you still have free will. You still get to decide, moment by moment, who you’re going to be when it counts.

I’ve made peace with the fact that part of my reputation — professionally and personally — is being the person who will tell you the truth, even when it’s not what you want to hear. That’s a weight. But it’s a weight I’ll carry every time over the alternative: being someone who wields power maliciously, who uses hurt as a weapon, who teaches the people watching that hostility is an acceptable substitute for honesty.

I will never be that person. And I am deeply, genuinely grateful for that.

So here’s the question I’m asking you today, the same one I ask myself: Who do you want to be? What do you want to be known for?

I want to be known as someone who fiercely loved her children. Who showed up when it mattered, even when it cost her something. Who worked her tail off and built things so other people felt seen, validated, heard, and loved. Who gave until she couldn’t give anymore — and then, even after that, kept showing up in whatever small ways she still could.

If you want to be bitter, own it. If you want to be malicious, own it — but know what that costs you and everyone around you. And if you want to be kindhearted, if you want to make a difference, own that too, all the way, every single day, especially the ones nobody’s watching.

Don’t straddle the fence. Choose. Then live like you meant it.

I see you. I love you. You matter.

Hugs,

Sam