When the Path Feels Unclear, We Walk Together.

The day after the election in November, I sat down and wrote this article to myself—a way to ground my thoughts and find a glimmer of hope in what felt like a moment of uncertainty.

What I didn’t expect was the overwhelming wave of support, love, and connection that came back to me. It reminded me of something simple yet profound: often, when we think we’re alone, we don’t realize just how many others are walking the same path beside us.

It’s in that same spirit that I write today, reflecting on the inauguration and what it means to step forward together into this new chapter.

I woke up today with a mixture of emotions—hope, trepidation, and a sense of resolve. Maybe you did too. Yesterday’s inauguration wasn’t just a ceremony; it was a turning of the page, a new chapter in a story that is still very much being written. For some, it feels like the dawn of possibility; for others, it’s a reminder of divisions that remain unhealed. But for all of us, it’s a call to action.

When I served in the military, I learned that leadership is not just about rank or title—it’s about responsibility. It’s about standing up, not just when it’s easy but when it’s hard. And today, whether you’re celebrating or grieving, we all share the same responsibility: to keep this democracy alive and thriving.

This inauguration—like every one before it—was not an endpoint but a beginning. It’s a promise, not a guarantee. And that’s the beauty and the burden of democracy: it demands something of us. It asks us to believe that progress is possible, even when it feels slow. It asks us to care for one another, even when we disagree. And it asks us to remember that this nation is ours, no matter who holds the highest office.

If you’re feeling hopeful, let that hope fuel your action. If you’re feeling disheartened, know that your voice still matters. What happens next isn’t up to one person, one party, or even one administration—it’s up to all of us. We’ve inherited a country built on ideals that are often easier to say than to live out: liberty, equality, justice for all.

Living up to those ideals is the work of a lifetime, and it belongs to each of us.

There are people today who feel left behind, who are afraid for their rights, their safety, their future. They need us to show up for them—not just in words but in deeds. To listen, to learn, to stand alongside them. Because democracy isn’t just a system of government; it’s a commitment to one another.

We’re in this together. That doesn’t mean it will be easy, and it certainly doesn’t mean we’ll always agree. But it does mean that the things that divide us are never as powerful as the things that unite us: our shared humanity, our shared dreams, our shared responsibility to leave this country better than we found it.

So today, take a moment to feel whatever it is you’re feeling. Then take a deep breath, and step forward. Remember that this nation’s story is still being written, and you have a pen in your hand. Write with compassion. Write with courage. Write with love—not because it’s easy, but because it’s the only way forward.

We don’t build a better future by looking away or giving up. We build it by showing up, again and again, no matter how hard it gets.

And remember: love may feel fragile right now, but it’s the only thing that endures. It’s the only thing that will prevail.