I am Samantha called Sam.
(Confusing, I know.)
I am a lover of greenery, glitter and goat cheese, an advocate of media literacy, human rights and karaoke for all. I have a BA in journalism with a minor in philosophy and aspirations for graduate school someday. Sigh. I live in Virginia at the moment with my husband and daughter. But we’re notoriously nomadic.
And this is my blog.
I once read a story about a woman who would jot down her worries on scraps of paper—old receipts, torn-out book pages, post-its, whatever she could find. She put them in a little wooden box in her kitchen. Her kids called it “the God box.” They said it was her way of handing her worries over to God, getting them off her chest, letting Him take care of things. When she died, her daughter found thousands of those scraps of paper all over the house, stuffed in shoe boxes, baskets and coffee cans.
I write for my daughter, my little Scarlett called Scout. I worry about her already, mostly about how she’ll learn what a powerful and important thing it is to be a woman in this world of mixed messages, something I’m still learning myself.
So this, my house full of little prayers, is for her. And for all the girls out there still figuring out who they are.
Contact me, if you wanna: email@example.com