LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
“It was the 10-year mark of my job and I began to grow restless. I was at the top and there was no position above me to reach. I started thinking of myself as something or someone else. I was tired of holding things up. I wanted what I wanted. I had to be honest.”
“In light of this, our family is giving you blanket permission to do this however the hell you want for the next two months. I don’t care if you teach my kids one more thing this semester.”
“Telling my Nana my life wasn’t going to be what she expected, as I’d met the person I intended to marry and it was not a ‘he,’ was the most difficult moment of my life. I watched her heart break in front of me, fully aware I was the cause. Years later, at my wedding, she looked at me and said, ‘The LGBTQ community is the happiest group of people I’ve ever been part of.’ Today, Nana left us. My heart is broken.”
“I woke up completely drenched in sweat. I called the COVID-19 hotline. 5 minutes later, a very condescending man came on. I was told I sounded ‘fine’ and was likely just ‘exaggerating’ the symptoms due to anxiety. I had a seizure. Blood had started pouring out of my mouth. I wouldn’t realize just how much until later.”
“A short time later, she came to my house with a shopping bag. From 6 feet away, she placed a bag of groceries and masks on the ground. I was an emotional wreck.”
“I cried over chicken today. Then the dreaded texts started coming. We planned on times when we could all talk. I tried really hard to come up with excuses to keep me off the call. I wanted nothing to do with it. The call lasted 4 freaking hours!”
“I worried about his aggressive outbursts. Earlier that day, I was talking with a friend who was working through her anxiety about leaving her family every shift to work in the NICU. Her anxiety was real. Mine was selfish and unplaced. I was disappointed in myself that I wasn’t able to handle things better for Jack that day, or with my spouse.”
“Just the other day, I found myself admitting to another mom I’m not sure we would have chosen to have more kids had we known of the diagnosis before getting pregnant. The second the words came out of my mouth, I regretted it. He is showing her his love by letting her in his bubble, despite how painful it is for him.”
“What kind of horrible person am I? I was begging my husband to just get me out of there! ‘It’s going to be a joy like you’ve never felt.’ Instead I was frozen with fear. I was hemorrhaging. I was still searching her face for the joy I was supposed to be feeling. I felt guilty and ashamed.”
“I waited for seven days. I bled all weekend, thinking for sure I miscarried. ‘But, it’s in your tube.’ she said. No need to sugarcoat that part. I could die if this wasn’t taken care of right away. My doctor is pro-life and if he could save a baby and a mother, he would.”