What a busy and exciting season it’s been! As summer begins to gain momentum and spring draws to a close, we wanted to give you guys a recap of our very exciting spring conference series and all the wonderful experiences we’ve been able to share as a team.

As some of you know, we recently held three MOVE Community Conferences during our spring conference season, visiting Austin, TX at UT Austin during the film and interactive week of SXSW; heading to Los Angeles, CA to host a conference at a very cool, old movie theater in downtown Hollywood; and then wrapping up in a gorgeous historic church in New York City, NY. These conferences were our largest ever, drawing in over 200 attendees from the US and Canada! And these conferences were unique because we were able to work with a partner organization for the first time.

Seven months ago, we were invited out to Los Angeles by the production company Participant Media to view a movie called The Beaver. We honestly didn’t know what to make of the title or the synopsis – a story about a father’s crippling depression that causes him to find solace and expression through a beaver puppet in order to gain control of his life – but we were eager to learn more. What we learned was that Jodie Foster had produced and directed a wonderful film that explores the truth about how mental illness can impact a family, damage relationships, and cause pain and confusion. However, while it’s true that mental illness affects more than the person struggling, this movie also reminds viewers that hope is inherent in the struggle for those who seek to find it, and that redemption is possible for all people in the midst of that type of pain.

The Participant Media folks became fast friends as our partnership developed into what their company calls a “social action campaign.” In each campaign, an organization is chosen to benefit financially from the movie’s advertising budget, in order to meet people on a ground level in ways that directly connect with each film the company produces. Our MOVE Community Conferences were a perfect fit because of our effort to educate community members who are passionate about understanding and speaking into the topic of mental health, and erasing the stigma and shame that surrounds those issues.  It is our hope that those who attend MOVE would become true catalysts for change in the cities and regions they’re from.

Because of our partnership with Participant Media, and their gracious $60,000 grant, we were able to host three entirely revamped conferences. With a much larger budget, we were able to print brand-new, beautiful materials, update our curriculum, hire an additional counselor named Alison to interact with attendees alongside counselors Aaron and Michelle Moore, bring multiple TWLOHA staff members to each event, rent large, beautiful venues, and use film clips from The Beaver to bring some of our teaching points to life in a new way. Not only that, but the support we experienced from within the film community was incredible. It encouraged us so much to learn that there are people working within Hollywood to push for a more accurate glimpse into the reality of mental illness. Like we so often say, you are not alone in your story. We were reminded that there are so many people in the film industry who understand pain, addiction, mental illness and stories that end too soon. And that they’re working hard to do something about it.

At the premiere of the film, a few of us had the privilege of “walking the red carpet” and experiencing the movie in a theater of anxious moviegoers. Listening to Jodie Foster speak to her motivation behind making the film was a gift. We were impressed by her honesty and understanding about the reality of the pain and hope possible in the mental health community. She expressed over and over again how passionate she is about mental health in her personal life and on the screen.

Jodie said that the story had a balance of lightness and heaviness, and the challenge was in sharing something so heavy with the appropriate levels of humor and wit that accompany the pains and joys of our struggle. She said, “For me, it’s a very personal film, and it has to do with all of my struggles, all the things I think about obsessively, and where I’m at in this particular point of my life. And I think the graduation speech [at the end of the film] really sums up the final message of the movie, which is that we all have these struggles, and that life is full of the half-comedy and half-tragedy. And really, the only way to get through it is to know you’re not alone. And that connection is the one thing that makes the loneliness of this life bearable.”

Sitting in the theater proved why TWLOHA had been chosen to play a role in this social action campaign. Everything Jodie spoke about in reference to mental health was exactly the message we strive to share on a daily basis. Our MOVE Community Conferences are just one of the many ways we help fight against this stigma of silence. We have our MOVE attendees to thank for that! Each conference is incredible because it is full of people who seek to become leaders in their communities. People who want to make sure help is available locally, and that people seeking to find answers would know it’s ok to ask. And our hope is that we are able to continue partnering with organizations, businesses and companies who care deeply about people joining together to support one another when life takes a confusing turn.

As we look ahead to the future, we are excited to share that we will be holding three more MOVE Community Conferences before the end of 2011. We are taking the summer off to plan for the fall, so anticipate new cities and dates in the coming months. Keep an eye on the website for updates.

As always, you are welcome to email us with questions at move@twloha.com. We love hearing from you.









Kaitlyn
Director of MOVE Community Conferences

Comments (1) | Posted in General, Journal by Kaitlyn Suveg

This past Saturday we attended the 4th annual AFSP Out of the Darkness Walk in Orlando, FL. The rain that had threatened us all week held off, and it turned out to be a beautiful, sunny, 75-degree morning. (A huge relief since last year the winds were so bad our tent kept blowing away!)

The Out of the Darkness event is one of our favorites because of the special way attendees care for one another and find hope in the stories shared, but this particular walk was a highly-anticipated event for us as a team. Some coworkers and I thought it would be neat to create info cards to match the beads walkers are handed upon arrival.



At these walks, participants wear beads to signify the reason they are there. White beads are worn for the loss of a child by suicide. You wear red for a lost spouse or partner. Gold for a parent, orange for a sibling. Blue means you support the cause. You wear green beads if you’ve struggled personally, and you wear purple if you’ve lost a relative or a friend. Our cards were a simple message of why we were there – to walk for those who have died, for those who’ve lost a loved one, and for those fighting to stay alive. I was proud to walk among the 821 participants who had worked hard to raise over $50,437 for suicide prevention and recovery.



The walk is always a special day for our team, and attending had been a real privilege for me in the past. But this year was different. This year I attended with an entirely different reality than I did exactly one year ago. This year, I wore purple beads around my neck and I walked in honor of my best friend.

I lost my best friend Brittany this year, and it rocked my world. I mean it. Shook everything that was solid and challenged so much of what I understood. Having worked in the realm of addictions and mental health for a few years before she shared with me about an addiction that had been present in her life for nearly as long as I knew her, I quickly came to understand that helping a stranger and helping a best friend are two completely different realities. So last February I took her hand, and we walked it. We walked that road of recovery together for roughly three months before she passed away in May. After her death I began attending survivor support groups and going to grief counseling for free through the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention's online locator. Because I work with suicide prevention as a huge part of my job, it was really important that I embraced the grieving process entirely. It could have been easy to carry guilt and lose sight of hope. Working for TWLOHA during this season has been a blessing I cannot even begin to articulate, and my coworkers have been a huge part of my grieving process as well. It’s ok to not be ok some days, and that’s just how it is. Attending the event last weekend reminded me of this.

I realized that this walk was about me and about my recovery and health as much as it was about honoring Britt’s incredible life here on earth. I was chatting with a good friend recently, and we were just stunned by the amount of time it has taken us before we’ve been able to recount fond memories of our loved ones lost to suicide and not have those happy memories tainted by the tragedy of their death. However, our memories continue to carry us through, and sooner or later we feel like we can make it through too. I can honestly say that life is beginning to feel more like itself again. It's like color has finally returned to my surroundings.



Suicide brings questions you've never-in-your-wildest-dreams-ever conjured up in your mind right to the forefront. And those endless questions can seep into everything you do. Some days your job, your personal life, your family and friends, and even your dreams can become saturated by the pain you feel. It can make you feel helpless and angry and relieved and unsure and defeated and everything else. And it's all "normal." And it's ok.

So if you or someone you know is struggling in any way, or life is maybe even beginning to feel unlivable, know that you are not alone in your pain. There are professionals willing to help, friends and crisis workers ready to listen, and those who have experienced a pain similar to yours waiting to tell you that it matters, and that life is worth living despite that pain. There is still hope.

Losing Britt was a completely foreign experience, and I never want to lose a loved one by suicide ever again. But the process has changed, grown and stretched so much of who I am. And I am thankful to know that there are many people who care for me and want to continue to carry me when I'm unsure about how to deal with it. This week marks the ninth month since her death, and it’s hard. Really hard. However, I am doing better than I did last month, and that’s worth celebrating. I’ll keep walking for Britt and consider it an honor to adorn myself with those purple beads. I wish I could call her, hug her, tell her that I love her. But it seems that the next best thing is to carry her life’s story along on my journey.

Keep walking toward hope.
Kaitlyn

Comments (61) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

Over the past year, TWLOHA has had the privilege of bringing a message of hope and help to college students through our University Chapters program (otherwise known as "UChapters"). Now three semesters strong, UChapters boasts of 35 gifted and inspired chapters. And as our MOVE Community Conferences continue to fill the calendar with future dates in regions across the US, students continue to have the opportunity to receive the required training to start a chapter on their campus.  

So why would you want to start or join a TWLOHA University Chapter? Well, if you are a student who wants to do something with your inspiration and compassion for others but doesn't know how or what that could look like, then beginning a chapter or joining one is a great way. At TWLOHA, we use the word "community" a lot, and it's something we believe can really change someone's life. But it begins with committing to people. UChapters, at the heart, is a group of people that exists to support each other and the student body around them. In short, if you are a student who realizes that people need people, then start or join a chapter. 

Our chapters are compassionate activists who give their hearts to bring TWLOHA's mission and vision to life on campus. They organize creative events that are stirring the conversation of mental health. Lives are changing. It's a process, but it's happening.        

Below is a list of our newest chapters. We are excited and thankful to welcome them into our community. If you have an interest in beginning or joining a chapter, visit twlohauchapters.com. 

Comments (22) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

Cory Chiasson, a former TWLOHA intern, recently joined Chad Moses from our team on a trip to Australia. The two participated in a tour of secondary schools in and around Melbourne, bringing our message and mission to young people there. Below, Cory shares a bit about his experience. We hope you enjoy his words.

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As I write this, I realize the opportunity I have. I could slide open the translucent blinds to my left, and stare into the wonder that is Los Angeles. Mind you, it’s only Century Boulevard, representing major hotels, airport shuttles and an excessive amount of advertising for car parks. But this is beside the point. The point is, I have the ability to choose. I can choose to go explore or I can stay inside this decorated (and well air-conditioned) hotel room.

I just returned from the beautiful state of Victoria, Australia where Chad and I joined up with my friend Joel and a diligent crew from Gravity Tour.  We had the honor of adventuring across Australia, bringing a message of hope and a reminder of the importance of one’s own personal journey to schools in Melbourne and the surrounding areas. 

It was quite the experience, going to these different schools, both private and public, bringing up the taboo issues that TWLOHA deals with on a daily basis.  The beautiful thing about it all was how well we were received by the teachers and the students who attended our workshops and presentations. Topics of addiction, depression, self-injury and suicide are definitely not in the list of Top Ten things spoken about in campus halls. And you certainly won’t find them linked in the trending topics on your Twitter homepage. You’d be lucky if you heard them discussed on the evening news or Wake Up America. (Do you guys have that? Sorry. I live in an igloo up in Canada.)

At each stop on this tour, Chad asked the students to close their eyes and raise their hands if they knew someone or if they themselves had struggled with at least one of these issues. And at every stop nearly everyone raised their hand to acknowledge that they did indeed know someone. When they opened their eyes, they realized how strikingly similar we all are. Chad then asked them to raise their hands if they had conversed with someone within the last week about one of these issues. It was heartbreaking to see the few hands that went up for that question.  It proved how quiet we find ourselves when these issues come up.

This past week I started reading this Italian author named Dante’s book, The Divine Comedy. Well, I say that loosely. I’ve gotten about four pages into the intro, which was written by a fellow named John Ciardi. He said something that caught my eye, and I’d like to quote him here:

“The true mark of any writer is in the choices he makes. Having written three words, he must choose a fourth. Having written four, he must choose a fifth. Nothing happens into a good poem; everything must be chosen into it.”

We are the writers, the authors, and the poets of our own story. We have the choice to choose. We can be a people who wish for better things, who hope that our story will be written only by the stars, or we can wake up, dream awake and live out what we deserve to be.

We have to choose to live.

We have to choose to ask for help when we reach the end of ourselves.

You deserve to write that fifth word, even the sixth. Once you write the first six, maybe the following words, the words that define your life and who you will become, may not be so hard to write.

You deserve to be given the chance to choose. 

You deserve the chance to share.  When you choose to share, you may just find something magical start to happen in your heart.

Much love to all of you,

Cory

Comments (16) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

While working with To Write Love on Her Arms I’ve heard some amazing stories. I’ve listened, I’ve shared, and I’ve grown. We say it all the time, “your story is important,” because it is. Your story is one that was written with purpose. It’s still being written. Sometimes we suffer. Sometimes we stumble, we fall, and we can’t see how we can possibly get up. Our hearts break, our world seems to get darker, we feel alone. But through those struggles you learn and you grow. You figure out who you are. Two weeks ago I met an amazing woman on a plane to Cincinnati that helped me see that again.

I woke up at 5am. My alarm went off and I began to slowly get dressed, mumbling under my breath about staying up late and needing more sleep. Whitney, Narika and I were heading to a festival in Pennsylvania and were in for a long day. Airport security lines stretched out into the atrium, children were crying, a whole family even jumped ahead of a line of people who had been waiting for awhile (us included). A crowded tram ride, a long walk to the terminal, and a quick breakfast later I was situated in my seat on the plane.

Because my ticket had been booked after Whitney’s and Narika’s my seat was a few rows ahead of them. I settled into seat 19E, a center seat between a mother of two spunky girls across the aisle and a woman about my mother’s age with a warm smile and a People magazine beside the window, seat 19F.

“You’ve got to let me know if that’s a good read,” I said with a smile, pointing at the front cover of the magazine. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted it or not.” She laughed and offered to let me have it once the flight was over. She wouldn’t need it for her connecting flight because she was certain she’d finish before this flight was through. We chatted for a moment and I learned she was on her way to Montreal to see her mother, though she was living in Florida just down the coast from my sleepy little town of Cocoa.

The plane began to rumble down the runway and I popped in my headphones and attempted to catch a few moments of rest before the long day ahead of me officially began.

The chime signaling that it was time to turn off portable electronic devices pulled me from my drowsy daze. The lady beside me was tapping her arm to the beat of the music in her own headphones as she flipped through her magazine. As I began to put away my iPod she began to do the same.

“So,” she said, almost hesitantly, looking for a conversation, but unsure of my willingness to participate, “why are you going to Cincinnati?” I began to explain to her about To Write Love on Her Arms and our participation in the festival. Her eyes got wide as I talked about the need for conversations to start and for people to know they are not alone, that their stories are important. She told me that she works in education and feels like so many of her students struggle with the same issues I had just mentioned.

“It’s so important,” she said. “I’m glad to have grown up in the 60’s! It was a lot less stressful, though my husband may not agree.” Seeing my confusion she began to tell me about how her husband and his five best friends enlisted in the army together straight out of high school and were deployed to Vietnam. She didn’t say how long it took, but within weeks of each other, each of her husband’s best friends were killed in the war. He was even shot down in a helicopter. “He lives with so much guilt and sadness. He doesn’t understand why he lived and they didn’t!” You could see how much she loved her husband as she spoke about him. Her eyes hurt for him, yet she smiled.

“He’s had a good life! He lived! We got married young. We had three children.” My frustrations from the morning seemed to disappear as I listened to this woman weave her story for me. “I know we’re meant for so much, especially after 9/11. I was in the first tower, you know.”

She went on to tell me about her morning on September 11, 2001, a morning where she decided to leave her desk on the 91st floor because she was hungry. She chatted with co-workers as she made her way to the elevator and ultimately ended up in the concourse below the streets of New York buying breakfast. It was then that the first plane hit, shaking the walls of the tower and causing a great commotion. The plane crashed into the building killing everyone on board as well as many of this woman’s co-workers, the co-workers she had just wished a good morning to. The fear and panic consumed the building and she quickly escaped and watched from six blocks away as the tower fell.

2,995 people died in the attacks on America on September 11, 2001.

2,995 people were lost, their families left behind, their stories ended too soon.

She looked at me with a concrete assurance, “I’m not afraid of anything anymore. I don’t care about death. I faced death. My husband faced death. We’re alive and now it’s about living life and being happy.” Her words seemed to be like cold water rushing through my body. Goosebumps filled my arms and tears came to my eyes. This woman. This beautiful stranger sat beside me with a rare confidence about life. She shouldn’t be alive, but she is. She is! Her heart is beating and her lungs are breathing fresh air and she is alive! She began to describe how she doesn’t take for granted the little things anymore, “a small child’s giggle, a sunrise on the beach, spending time driving around and experiencing new things. Those are the moments you cherish no matter how small.”

I didn’t know that getting onto that plane would change me. I didn’t know that the smiling woman reading a magazine would create a new sense of hope in my life. She revealed truths to me that I had forgotten, truths that rejuvenated me and gave me peace. She had lived, struggled, felt pain and fear. But through those struggles, through that pain, she was given hope. Switchfoot says that every breath is a second chance. This woman embraced that truth. She ran with it. As I got off the plane with her I thanked her for sharing her story with me. I let her know how much it touched me. She just smiled and told me to have a good trip to Pennsylvania and then she was gone, lost in a sea of travelers looking for their connecting flights.To the lady in 19F – thank you so much for sharing your life with me. Thank you for reminding me to embrace life and live. Your story is so important and meaningful.

By: Holly Hallum

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A special note about Holly:

Holly was an intern here with us this past fall. After her internship, she stayed on with us part-time, helping Denny run the UChapters program, working as the Intern RA and investing herself as a member of our community here in Cocoa. We’re excited to share that as of yesterday, Holly joined our team full-time.

Let her know how much her words mean to you, and join us in celebrating her today!

Comments (23) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

Hey guys,

Last week we sent out our TWLOHA newsletter for the month of March, and we're pretty excited about it. We'll now be emailing these once a month to update you on details you may have missed, places we've been, progress in our new projects like IMAlive, and ways you can be involved. It's just one more way to stay connected with us. 

If you want to receive our monthly newsletter, submit your email on our homepage in the TWLOHA Email Updates section. 

To read the full version of our March newsletter, click here. 

Comments (3) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

Below are the words of Shannon, one of our spring interns spending the season with us. Shannon had attended MOVE prior to interning with us, and this past weekend she got the chance to help out a bit behind the scenes. While there, she connected with an attendee named Jenny who touched her heart, and we want to share her experience with all of you. Enjoy!

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This past weekend I had the privilege of attending the MOVE Community Conference held in Cocoa Beach. Last April I attended a MOVE conference on my own in that same quiet beach town, with the same breeze and overcast sky. I never imagined I would be in this place again, one year later, with renewed encouragement and thoughts of hope.

As I stood in the red and gold conference room early Friday morning, MOVE attendees slowly arrived and filed in. Young and old; seeking information about the topics TWLOHA addresses and wanting to fill a need. Some were weary with tired eyes from long rainy drives, and others wide-awake, smiling, with thankful handshakes. I saw a beautiful lady approaching in a bright blue sweater that matched her hopeful eyes, her right hand met mine and she spoke, “Hi, I’m Jenny.” When I learned that we both come from sunny Southern California I felt comforted in meeting a kindred spirit on the right coast. When I asked her what it was that had brought her to this Cocoa Beach hotel, thousands of miles from home, I had no idea that her answer would shake the Southern ground we stood on.

“My daughter committed suicide. Five months ago. I couldn’t wait for MOVE to come to California; I had to be here now.”

We instantly embraced in a hug as I told her I was sorry and I was thankful she was here. In that moment, when words seemed so insignificant, I felt the overwhelming beauty in her hope. It was the kind of hope formed out of a painful place, and the kind that’s made even more powerful when we get to share it with others. Through my ensuing conversations with Jenny over the next two days, I got a glimpse into the beautiful life of her daughter, Grayson. I felt the weight of her hard and promising words, and I was thankful for the hospitality she had extended to me by trusting me with her story. Jenny came to MOVE to take information back to her community, and yet something beautiful inside, despite her brokenness, brought strength to Florida that this little Californian will never forget.

Thank you to everyone who played a part in MOVE this weekend, for both your willingness to learn and for the words you shared. Thank you for being a part of something bigger that we like to think is only made possible because of people like you. Sometimes our greatest fear and greatest joy is being known and knowing others. I hope we are all able to carry that fear and joy with us into our own communities as we continue to write our stories.

Comments (15) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

In honor of National Eating Disorders Awareness week, we wanted to share a beautiful story written by a former TWLOHA intern, Stephanie Koszalka. Please read it and enjoy remembering that your life and your story are powerful. No self-determined imperfection can change that.

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Dear Body,

I’ve always let some imperfection or another stand in the way of me seeing what you truly are, that you are beautiful. You are a divine creation housing the most valuable thing known to the universe, my soul. I’m beginning to realize that a person’s soul has the capacity to radiate light that transcends all the characteristics that I have been conditioned to believe are flaws.

You naturally tell a story. Your blue-green veins are like a map to where your heart has been and where it is going. The curve of your waist and the shape of your cheekbones tell a tale of heritage and ethnicity. There are crayon markings on the wall somewhere that has measured your height throughout the years. Always returning to the same spot to see how you’ve changed.

Your eyes bare resemblance to nature. They are a deep forest green with golden yellow sunflower flecks. Your faded birthmark, once beet red, brought me shame because all I wanted was to conform. It now reminds me of how unique you are and all I want is to be different.

Your body begins as a story but continues with new chapters throughout your life. Some are chapters of sadness and pain, others of joy, and all of growth. Each chapter a blank canvas meant to be painted by our experiences. Photos are memories but so are our bodies in a way that’s more real, no posing and no fakeness.

I’m realizing these things now, but I’m so sorry that I didn’t realize them before. I’ve done everything I could to destroy the canvas and deface and burn the pages of different chapters.

I’ve waged war on you before; used razor blades to feel and drugs to numb. I’ve used caffeine to stay awake and alcohol to sleep. Abusing the side effects of my prescription drugs like loss of appetite, to deliberately starve myself into making you skinnier.  I’ve spent far too much time on a scale that merely weighs your effect on gravity, not the depth of your beauty. I wanted you to look like one of those girls in the magazines.

But in the ruins there is still a canvas. There is still beauty in your brokenness. The faded scars show healing reminding me that even though I’ve been in dark places, I’ve survived and learned and become stronger.

Although the war is over, the world still takes its toll. You have calluses on your hands from me writing too much and concentrating too hard. Yet the words are beautiful and the studying is worth it. You have the ache when it rains from broken bones, and stretch marks from growing too fast. You have burns from jobs and scars from falls. But those experiences were worth it.  

Dear body, as I grow older I worry about how you will age. Together we gain wisdom and wrinkles, after being young and beautiful and naïve. The wisdom tells us that the beauty doesn’t subside, it only changes, and more of it comes from within.  So I won’t worry when my hair doesn’t look just right, or when I do something stupidly funny and emerge with another scar because you are telling a story. And what would I be without my story and my past?                     

Comments (114) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

Hey guys.

I want to extend an official invitation for you to join us this March 12 – 13, 2010 in Cocoa Beach, Florida for a MOVE Community Conference.

Odds are that if you read these blogs regularly, you probably have an idea about these conferences. If you’re new MOVE, you can find more information here:

www.twloha.com/move/move-conference

It’s my hope that you would share about this conference with someone who cares about saving lives and walking alongside those in places of pain, but who hasn’t read our blog. Call them up, email them or simply sit them down next to you. Share our desires to see community leaders, counselors, teachers, mentors, pastors and parents become more equipped in discussing issues of community, brokenness and pain, addiction, depression and anxiety, self-harm, eating disorders and suicide where they live. Share why you care too.

This month has been a heavy one for many of us on staff. That’s an awkward statement to make without any follow-up, but I tell you that to remind you that we understand the difficulty that surrounds engaging others in conversations about these topics... We too are invested in the lives of our family members, our friends (who feel like family) and our community. We hurt when others settle into a dark place, and we feel lighter when people move forward in finding help just like you do.

What encourages me the most and makes me feel most privileged in my job right now is that the topics we address as an organization, and the bigger picture, this “movement” we speak so highly of, is something universal.

We have a big year ahead of us. I hope that I can meet you at a MOVE conference and hear why you’re passionate about continuing to speak about these issues in your community. Why do you want to MOVE?

Love.
Kaitlyn
Director of MOVE Community Conferences

Comments (9) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

Our Street Team members have been invited to write letters of encouragement for people currently involved in residential treatment programs. We plan on sending these letters to people seeking help, to remind them that their fight is worth the effort. It has been our experience that sometimes people in these programs are unable to access the Internet, have visitors or receive mail on a regular basis. These notes are meant to meet people where they’re at in their recovery, and provide hope for them along the way.

Below is a letter we recently received from a member of our Street Team for this purpose. We think it’s wonderful, and wanted to share it with you guys too. If you would like to help write letters of encouragement, head over to our Street Team page on Fancorps to sign up today.

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My mom was always the strong one. The one who always knew what to do and what to say. A child needs someone to look up to, and naturally most kids look up to their mother or father. Whether they have a good or bad influence on them, it's just something children do. I consider myself a grownup now, but in the midst of all the searching and wondering and mystery that life offers, I'm still a child. A child seeking approval, and acknowledgment, and love.

I started writing songs when I was 14. Most of it was crap but it's just those steps you have to take to get where you want to be. I don't know what drove me to actually keep writing during the first two years because nobody heard them except for two of my siblings (and they are both younger so of course they thought that everything I did was cool). When I was 16 I thought that I wrote a half-decent song and I decided to play it in front of my mom. I remember it very well. I asked her if she wanted to hear something, I wrote, and I sat down in the hallway while she was doing her hair in front of the mirror while she got ready for work. I started playing on my guitar and singing. I will never forget the way she looked at me, the way she listened. In that moment I knew that she saw something in me. I didn't know what it was but I felt that it was something significant. She believed in me.

As we wander through this life, in whatever we do, we are always looking for approval. In school or at our jobs we need to know that what we do is good. That it matters. That we matter. The greatest fear as human beings is to be unloved.

I don't think that my mom didn't believe in me before she heard my song. I bet she did. I know she always loved me and always will. Maybe the reason why this moment was so significant to me was because she let me know that she believed in me. She encouraged me to sing my song in front of other people. When I said that I don't think it was good enough, when I didn't believe in myself, she did.

Sometimes we keep searching. We long for someone who believes in us other than our parents. We’ve all heard that “sometimes you can't make it on your own,” and most of the time we're just not brave enough to ask for help. We are ashamed because we're in need of something other than what we have on our own.

I'm a little older now and I realized that my mother is also just a person in need. I wanted to be a giver more than a taker. But there's a time for both. There are times we're the ones who are asked to give and other times we take. We may be surprised in how easy it is to give to others, even when we feel like we're the ones in need.

What if all someone needed from us was to share pieces of ourselves? To share our pain, our fears, our dreams, our stories. If we believe that other people matter and we tell them that they do, then we have to also believe that there are moments we will have to accept it when we feel like we can’t.

We may just find ourselves respond by saying, “If you believe I can, then I think I can.”

Esther
23-year-old from Germany
member of the TWLOHA Street Team

Comments (39) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

This past October we had the pleasure of joining the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention’s Cocoa Beach chapter for an Out of the Darkness walk in our area. This past Saturday, we were able to join them a second time, and our entire team went out. We’ve truly enjoyed growing closer with the AFSP this year. We value them as an organization, and believe strongly in their vision.

Below you’ll find the voice of Erin, one of our spring interns. We’ve invited her to share her perspective from the walk in Orlando. Enjoy her words, as we hope they find you well tonight.

Comments (14) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

Two nights ago, an earthquake rocked Port-au-Prince, the capitol of Haiti. It's meant confusion for many of us watching from the U.S. and around the world, trying to follow any source of information from breaking news sources to social networking sites. In searching for an estimate of the casualties from this disaster, I stumbled across a number that made my stomach churn:

100,000.

CNN.com reports that an estimated 100,000 lives are assumed to have been lost in the earthquake thus far, and that’s not accounting for the lack of food, clean water and proper medical care that may not be available to people at this time.

Our friends at Invisible Children have provided a link to an excellent resource called TakePart for anyone looking to donate. More than a dozen organizations are listed, with appropriate links to each source. Take the time to look over the help available, and please consider donating.

Thank you for caring for the lives of others through your thoughts and prayers, and/or financial contribution. 

We’re glad that you’re alive today. 

Love.
Kaitlyn and Team TWLOHA

Links:

TakePart

Invisible Children

Comments (5) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

Today was a beautiful day.

Today I had the pleasure of having conversations that really matter. Sometimes I forget how blessed I am to be part of this movement—that not all organizations value stories to the point that they’ll allow for you to silence your phone, close your laptop and shut your mouth in the middle of a workday to listen and learn from another. I am thankful that in our office we are able to practice what we preach, to listen when needed, and share from the core of our being.

This morning I got to hear about the passions of a witty Scottish fellow. Our friend Stuart is currently visiting us from Scotland and has big dreams to make our presence in the UK a greater reality, and to impact those who wouldn’t naturally cross paths with To Write Love on Her Arms.

This afternoon I got to have lunch with my friend Justin. We smiled and laughed, and later shared some about hard realities as we sat behind office desks and wondered about the pain that comes with honesty and figuring out next steps.

This evening I ended my workday chatting with an author I admire; I was sitting at a desk in Cocoa, FL and he behind one in Portland, OR. It's so rare to read an author's work and also be able to exchange words in real-time. His name is Brian Doyle and he has an art for capturing truth with simple beauty and honesty. Last week I decided to email Jamie one of my favorite pieces of his, “Two Hearts.” I did this because Jamie recently gave each of our interns a copy of Rob Bell’s newest book, Drops Like Stars, as they leave us for summer and return to their communities to continue living out our mission and movement at home.

Rob’s website says, “It is the difficult and the unexpected, and maybe even the tragic, that opens us up and frees us to see things in new ways. Many of the most significant moments in our lives come not because it all went right but because it all fell apart. Suffering does that. It hurts, but it also creates.”

Today was a day in believing in stories, in the idea that confession and passion and honesty and forgiveness matter so much, but that questions and pain are a part of this growth process as well, part of the process of creating something new within each of us. And sitting here now, I can’t help but wonder if any of those rich conversations I got to have today has a greater significance.

Jamie and I wanted to share Brian’s story with you guys… So, take a few minutes to read it, enjoy it, and wrestle with it. Brian shares our belief that stories matter, and encouraged me over the phone that we should all strive to become better listeners and “story catchers” in our daily lives.

We hope your day feels beautiful.

Love.
Kaitlyn

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Two Hearts

By Brian Doyle 
from God is Love

Some months ago my wife delivered twin sons one minute apart. The older is Joseph and the younger is Liam. Joseph is dark and Liam is light. Joseph is healthy and Liam is not. Joseph has a whole heart and Liam has half. This means that Liam will have two major surgeries before he is three years old.

I have read many pamphlets about Liam's problem. I have watched many doctors' hands drawing red and blue lines on pieces of white paper. They are trying to show me why Liam's heart doesn't work properly. I watch the markers in the doctors' hands. Here comes red, there goes blue. The heart is a railroad station where the trains are switched to different tracks. A normal heart switches trains flawlessly two billion times in a life; in an abnormal heart, like Liam's, the trains crash and the station crumbles to dust.

So there are many nights now when I tuck Liam and his wheezing train station under my beard in the blue hours of night and think about his Maker. I would kill the god who sentence him to such awful pain, I would stab him in the heart like he stabbed my son, I would shove my fury in his face like a fist, but I know in my own broken heart that this same god made my magic boys, shaped their apple faces and coyote eyes, put joy in the eager suck of their mouths. So it is that my hands are not clenched in anger but clasped in confused and merry and bitter prayer.

I talk to God more than I admit, "Why did you break my boy?" I ask.

I gave you that boy, he says, and his lean brown brother, and the elfin daughter you love so.

"But you wrote death on his heart," I say.

I write death on all hearts, he says, just as I write life.

This is where the conversation always ends and I am left holding the extraordinary awful perfect prayer of my second son, who snores like a seal, who might die tomorrow, who did not die today.

(A happy update: Brian shared with me that Liam is alive and well today; he’s a healthy 14-year-old!)

Comments (15) | Posted in Journal by Kaitlyn Suveg

This past Saturday, I got to experience my very first Warped Tour! A few of us from the office and a couple interns travelled down to West Palm Beach to meet up with our Warped team so we could meet supporters and get a taste of life on the road. We ended up staying the night after we packed up that day, spending time with some of the other members of our team that night.

Sunday we slept in, got to hang-out poolside at our hotel and eat ice cream (a very fun, girly get-away). While we were laying in the sun, Jamie’s younger sister Jessica rolled onto her side and began to tell Lindsay (our Intern Coordinator) and me the story of a woman named Mary. I was on the edge of my seat, drawn into this woman’s story with tears in my eyes and goosebumps all over my skin. You know those moments you hear a story of truth and love and know that it’s real and that it tells a greater story? That’s Mary’s story.

Lindsay told Jess she needed to write about her experience, and Jess responded by laughing, saying, “Jamie’s the writer in this family, not me.” I told her that she absolutely needed to write it, and that I would help her with the tricky grammar stuff (which, wasn’t much). We all have stories to tell, and I knew that Jess’ story would resonate with each of you. So, enjoy.

Love.

Kaitlyn 

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There is a reason and purpose for every festival or event we do. Sometimes we know the reason in advance. Sometimes we have to do a little searching. Other times that reason finds us.

Last Saturday was your typical summer afternoon in Florida, hot and muggy in the morning and a downpour in the afternoon. Music was blaring from the Kevin Says Stage not far from where we were set up. People embraced the rain and started dancing, or they ran for shelter under one of the tents nearby.

As the rain started, a woman came up to our tent and asked what we did. Over the noise of the rain and the loud music, I leaned forward so she could hear me; I told her about all of the issues we were there to raise awareness about. Immediately her eyes filled with tears. Something I said hit home. Was it the word suicide? Was it the word depression? I walked around the table and immediately hugged her. I didn’t know what she had been through. All I knew is that she was the reason we were there. We came for Mary.

Through her tears, she then told me her brother had committed suicide six weeks ago. In addition, her sister has been struggling with self-injury by burning herself. Since she had never heard of TWLOHA before, I asked her what made her approach our booth. She said that she read the top of our tent. She read the words, TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS, and said all she knew is that she wanted that for her sister.  A funny sounding phrase for most made all the sense in the world to her.

She asked where our name came from. She asked if Renee was still alive today, and the moment I told her “yes” gave her all the reason in the world to keep fighting for her sister. I heard her tell her friend that if Renee was okay then one day her sister could be okay too.

I don’t think Mary came to Warped Tour thinking she’d find hope or a group of people already fighting the fight she’d been struggling with the last six weeks. I’m not really sure why she went. I know why we went though. We went for her. We went to give her hope through conversation, through resources, through information we had available. And we’ll continue to go to events for Mary, for people with a story all their own, for you.

Your story matters. And you are loved in this moment.

Jessica  : )

Comments (30) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg

Comments (36) | Posted in General by Kaitlyn Suveg