get on the broom.

after watching wicked, the musical that somehow manages to be about witches, systemic injustice, and friendship all at once, i’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to find the people who will get on the broom with you. if you’ve seen the stage production, you know the story goes beyond “defying gravity.” but if you’re only familiar with the upcoming movie, that’s where it ends—a moment of defiance, courage, and choosing to rise above the noise.

it’s the perfect stopping point, really, because that’s where the magic happens. elphaba makes her choice, and she flies…but she doesn’t do it alone. it’s her friendship with glinda, complicated and imperfect as it is, that gives the moment its weight. watching that, i couldn’t help but think about how important it is to find the people in your life who would stand by you at that edge. the ones who wouldn’t just cheer from the ground but would climb on the broom too.

the truth is, not everyone will. some people will hesitate, worried about what the crowd will think. others might step back entirely, afraid of what it costs to stand beside someone who’s choosing to go against the grain. some people avoid conflict at all costs. they shrink to fit in, stay quiet to keep the peace, and dodge anything that feels uncomfortable. it might seem harmless until you need them. if they’ve never stood up for themselves, why would they stand up for you? when the pressure is on, they hesitate. they retreat. maybe they even excuse it with, “i didn’t want to make it worse,” or “i wasn’t sure what to say.” and just like that, you’re standing at the edge, broom in hand, flying solo. and that’s okay. not everyone is meant to take that ride with you.

…those who hesitate, the ones who can’t quite make the leap? they’re the cowardly lions of your life. they may mean well, but fear keeps them grounded, unable to roar when it matters most.

but the ones who do? they’re everything. these are the friends who don’t need to be convinced. the ones who are ready to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you, even if it means risking their own comfort or reputation. they don’t just go along for the ride when it’s easy…they show up when it’s hard.

it’s a theme that’s been on my mind a lot lately, not just after wicked, but also after reading the lion women of tehran. the women in that book remind me of elphaba in so many ways. they are fierce, defiant, and willing to risk everything to stand up against oppression and fight for what’s right. they don’t just follow the crowd. they roar against it. but what struck me most about them was their strength as a collective. their power wasn’t just in their individual bravery but in their willingness to support one another, to build a sisterhood that refused to be silenced. they didn’t just get on the broom, they carried each other when it got too heavy to fly alone.

life has its share of mobs. crowds that will try to pull you back down to the ground. that’s why you need friends who can hold their ground, who choose integrity over ease, and who will always have your back. the lion women of tehran had that kind of strength. they remind us that true power comes from solidarity, from finding the people who will fight beside you, even when the world is against you.

maybe this resonated with me because, truth be told, i’ve always been a little witchy myself. not in an obvious way, but in the sense of owning the parts of me that feel a little rebellious, a little unconventional. witches (and lion women) have always been a symbol of women who refused to play by the rules, and i’ve never been one to follow a script. and like any good witch, i know that my power is amplified by the people who stand beside me. the ones who see the magic in me and aren’t afraid to rise alongside it.

watching wicked and reading the lion women of tehran reminded me that those friendships and alliances aren’t just nice to have…they’re essential. whether you’re defying gravity or standing up against a system that wants to silence you, you need people who will get on the broom. if you don’t have them yet, don’t settle. hold out for the ones who remind you that flying together isn’t just easier…it’s everything.

and if you already have those people in your life, hold on tight. there’s nothing more powerful than a friend who chooses you, every single time.

we were girls together.

i had every intention of writing something wise, something soaked in meaning and sentiment on my 44th birthday. something that would wrap up the year and put a neat little bow on it. but you know what actually happened? i spent the day with an old friend, one of those rare ones who’s been around since i was…eleven? we were girls together, trying to grow up faster than we should have, figuring out life as we went. we met in junior high, survived high school, and even when she switched schools our senior year, we stayed in touch. life has a way of pulling people apart and tossing them back together at the oddest moments. seeing her again felt like coming home, like slipping on a favorite, worn-in jacket i hadn’t worn in years but still fit perfectly.

we spent hours talking, catching up on the past few years, diving deep into our lives and all the ways they’ve unraveled and tangled back up again. naturally, the conversation turned to people from those early years, friends i’d kept around for way too long. i filled her in on a few names and mentioned the latest drama. she laughed, shaking her head, and somehow that laugh held this perfect mix of familiarity and validation, as if we both knew i’d finally let go of things that never quite fit.

it wasn’t a day of profound reflection or planned revelations. it was simple. full of laughs, of catching up, of that easy comfort that only comes with a friend who’s known you for decades. it reminded me that some connections stay rooted, no matter the years or distance.

so here’s to 44. i have no idea what’s waiting for me, but maybe i don’t need to. maybe all i need is a little laughter, a few good friends, and the reminder that sometimes coming home isn’t a place; it’s a person who knew you back when.

let them.

it’s become a mantra of sorts…a quiet, almost passive permission we give to the world around us. let them. it’s simple, freeing in theory, but it’s not that easy. it’s the ultimate “don’t sweat the small stuff” whisper to ourselves, yet it’s much more nuanced than that.

let them leave without explaining themselves. let them cancel plans last minute. let them say what they need to say, even if it cuts. let them live however they need to live. the concept is about relinquishing control, the impossible, gut-wrenching, soul-baring release of your grip on other people’s actions and, by default, your reactions.

i’ve tried it. letting people do their thing, letting them show you who they are without you trying to manage, control, or convince them otherwise. let them, right? but here’s the thing: letting them doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. it doesn’t mean you don’t sit there with the silence after the storm, feeling the ache of the absence, the sting of unmet expectations. it doesn’t mean you stop caring.

but it does mean you stop holding your breath for people to be different than who they are.

i used to get wrapped up in the idea of people. how they could be, if they just did this or that, or if life hadn’t jaded them, or if they cared less about what others think, or if they just tried harder, or if they weren’t so insecure. the fantasy of potential is a dangerous thing. but “let them” is a reality check. people are who they are, and they will do what they want to do with or without your input, your nudging, or your wishes.

so what happens when you “let them?” it doesn’t mean you lose your boundaries or lower your standards. it just means you stop taking on the burden of changing someone else. you step back and let them walk their path, make their choices. and you decide what you want to do with the aftermath.

let them show you who they are, and believe them when they do.

there’s a quiet power in that. it’s not about giving up or being indifferent; it’s about acknowledging that everyone is living their own experience. the way they treat you, the choices they make, that’s their business. how you respond? well, that’s yours.

so, the next time someone disappoints you, falls short, or doesn’t meet your unspoken expectations? let them. and let yourself walk away if you need to.

because at the end of the day, it’s not just about letting them do what they do, it’s about letting yourself choose peace over control. and maybe, just maybe, that’s the real win.

you’re so lame, you probably think this blog is about you.

this one goes out to the women who treat their relationships like maximum-security prisons—complete with lockdowns, surveillance, and absolutely no visitors from the opposite sex. these are the ones who seem to think that letting their partner have a female friend will somehow send the entire relationship into a tailspin. it’s like they believe their man is one conversation away from running off into the sunset with someone else. spoiler alert: if your relationship is that fragile, it’s not the friend that’s the problem—it’s you.

these women act like the mere existence of another woman is a threat, like they’ve never heard of trust. instead of building a relationship based on mutual respect and confidence, they cling tighter than a toddler holding onto a security blanket, side-eyeing any female who dares to exist in their man’s orbit. unpopular opinion: it’s not the friend they don’t trust—it’s themselves. deep down, they know their insecurity is the only thing standing between them and a healthy relationship, but instead of working on that, they’d rather play relationship cop.

they’ll stalk their partner’s texts, throw passive-aggressive comments at any woman within a 5-mile radius, and claim it’s about “boundaries.” girl, no—it’s about insecurity. if you’re more focused on who your partner is texting than on how to actually communicate, that’s a you problem. and don’t get me started on the whole “women can’t be friends with men” nonsense. if you genuinely believe that, then maybe the issue isn’t the friendship—it’s your fragile sense of self-worth.

at the end of the day, if you can’t trust your partner to have friends of the opposite sex, what you’ve got isn’t love—it’s a hostage situation. newsflash: no amount of policing is going to stop someone from leaving if they want to. so, maybe instead of treating every woman like the enemy, take a good look in the mirror and figure out why you’re so terrified of letting your partner have a life outside of you. because the real issue isn’t her—it’s the insecurity you’re not willing to face.

allegedly, of course.

this is all purely hypothetical.