There are moments in history when one woman’s decision quietly changes everything. Elizabeth Blackwell made one of those decisions. Born in 1821, she became the first woman in the United States to earn a medical degree, not because the world was ready or doors were open, but because she believed women belonged in the rooms where life, death, dignity, and healthcare were being decided. She didn’t step into medicine to make a statement. She stepped into it because she saw suffe

February comes with all the usual noise. Hearts and roses. Glittery cards. Couples smiling on every commercial as they have never argued over the thermostat. And for the longest time, I thought romance belonged to people in relationships. I thought love had to look a certain way. Roses. Chocolates. Matching pajamas on Instagram. But somewhere along the way, I learned something softer and truer. Romance is not just about boyfriends. It's how I treat my life. A romantic table o

One of the most patronizing things disability services do is talk endlessly about our goals  when what they really mean is their goals for us . It’s framed as collaboration and encouragement, but in practice, those goals are decided in meetings people with disabilities didn’t lead, shaped by systems we didn’t design, and rooted in what makes providers comfortable rather than what makes lives meaningful. When people with disabilities don’t work toward those goals fast enough,

At the beginning of the year, nothing felt dramatic. There was no big announcement moment, no clear line that said, this is when everything changes. It started quietly, with work that needed doing and conversations that mattered. I said yes where it felt right, showed up where I was needed, and trusted that the rest would reveal itself in time. What most people didn’t see was that this year was also hard. Not dramatic hard. Just the kind of hard where you stare at your calend

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a pink sparkling graphic that says still standing, still choosing joy, still me I planned on ending last year with a ring on my finger. That part was intentional. It wasn’t impulsive or reactionary. It was a quiet hope I carried with me, rooted in the idea that some things unfold the way you picture them. In my mind, the ring came with a very specific story. A shared plan. A clear future. A sense of arrival that felt mutual and certain. What I didn’t plan was that the route c

I did not wake up one morning planning to enter my rock star phase. It just sort of happened the way fun things usually do, quietly at first. One laugh turned into another. One night stretched longer than I expected. And if I’m being honest, I don’t think I’d be standing where I am today without it. That season didn’t just give me stories. It gave me permission. Permission to stop shrinking my ideas. Permission to stop waiting for someone else to validate what I already knew

By Leslie Kate Thornton | Sassy Frass with Class I didn’t have to hop on a plane to “find myself.”No passport stamps. No Italian villas....

Every December, I feel like I’m standing at the edge of the year, looking back at the mess, the miracles, and the middle-of-the-night moments that got me here. This year didn’t come wrapped in a bow. It came with curveballs, cancellations, and challenges that made me question if I could keep showing up. But here I am, still standing, still sassy, still sparkling. ✨ Being a self-advocate isn’t about having it all together. It’s about walking into rooms that weren’t designed fo

The world was watching and waiting when Jesus came. It just wasn’t watching the fields. It was watching power, politics, temples, and census lists. It was watching Rome and religious authority. And while attention stayed fixed on what looked important, heaven moved somewhere else. Scripture tells us, “That night, some shepherds were in the fields near Bethlehem, watching their sheep” (Luke 2:8, ERV). God did not start where the world expected Him to. He started where faith qu

Here in the South, Christmas doesn’t wait for snow. It shows up in warm church pews and in the voices of a congregation singing “Go Tell...

December has its own kind of sparkle. Lights on every corner, music in every store, peppermint mochas calling my name. It’s like the world turns into one big Christmas card. Everyone’s jingling bells, and I’m over here creaking like one. Because here’s the truth, nobody puts on the Hallmark channel: holiday energy and chronic pain do not mix like sugar and spice. They collide. My head says, “Yes! Let’s go to the parade, the cookie swap, the candlelight service, the shopping t

Yesterday was National Cookie Day, and I didn’t even realize it until the whole day had already slipped away. Honestly, that feels exactly like December. You wake up with a plan, coffee in hand, motivation high, telling yourself today is the day you are going to get ahead. Then the hours start moving in scenes instead of minutes. A message here, a Zoom meeting there, a quick task that somehow multiplies into five, and suddenly you look up, and the sky is dark like it sped ahe

It is the most wonderful time of the year. Lights are twinkling, Christmas playlists are fighting for attention, and every store smells like cinnamon and confusion. And yet, somehow, without fail, this season also brings out another special holiday classic. The Karen. And let me just go ahead and warn you. Y’all are fixing to get mad at me because this is about pure privilege. You and I did not grow up in the same world. My presence was and still is an option to acknowledge.

old 50s pickup truck with fall pumpkins and decorations in the bed Thanksgiving has a way of pressing pause on the noise of everyday life. For one day, the pace slows, the leggings come out, and the table becomes the heart of the home. It’s a day for passing dishes, sharing stories, and realizing that even if life hasn’t gone perfectly this year, there’s still a whole lot to be thankful for. This year, I’ve been thinking about gratitude, not the Pinterest-perfect kind with ma

Somewhere between the first sip of coffee and the way the town wakes up around me, I realized I have been living in my own version of cozy town magic. Not scripted, not staged, just life happening slow and sweet right where I am. Coffee, comfort shows, and small town magic… I guess this is my Gilmore era. 🤎📚☕️ Last fall, I finally sat down to watch Gilmore Girls to see what the fuss was about. Somewhere between the fast-talking humor, the endless coffee refills, and the sma

Every year around this time, somebody tries to be bold and say “Thanksgiving is not part of Christmas.” And every year, I smile really sweet and say “Yes, it is. Bless your heart.” Because let’s be honest. Thanksgiving is the soft launch of Christmas. The warm-up. The moment the world slows down just long enough for us to look around and say “God, You have been good.” A family surrounded around a beautifully baked pie Thanksgiving is when the tree boxes come out of the closet

I didn’t wake up one morning magically confident. That’s not how any of this works. This story starts at my desk, My AAC charger was tangled on one side, my iced coffee was sweating on the other, and I was rereading an email from UGA for the sixth time. They had offered me $150 for speaking on their youth panel. Old me would’ve said yes immediately. No questions. No counteroffer. Because the girl I used to be believed that being grateful meant being quiet. But the woman I’m

Everybody loves to romanticize fall like it’s straight out of a Hallmark movie. Picture-perfect leaves, plaid scarves, apple orchards, and a PSL in hand with a soft glow filter over everything. Cute, right? Except let’s be honest, that is not Coastal Georgia. A woman at the beach wearing an oversized cable-knit sweater with black leggings Here, fall looks a little different. It’s chili cook-offs at the church, and Bath & Body Works is running a candle sale that feels more dan

When Jesus was asked which commandment was the greatest, He didn’t even pause. He said, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind. This is the first and most important command.” “And the second command is like the first: Love your neighbor the same as you love yourself.” — Matthew 22:37–39 (ERV) This time of year, we talk a lot about being thankful, thankful for family, food, faith, and the people sitting around the table. But the older I g