The Ground Beneath My Feet: What I Stand For in Love and Life

Understanding Begins with Listening

Growing up in the Navajo Nation, one of the first lessons I learned was the power of silence. Not the awkward, thumbing-through-your-notes kind of silence, but the deep, attentive silence that allows you to truly hear another person’s story. My grandmother once told me, “You can’t build a bridge without touching both sides of the river.” I didn’t get it at the time, but I do now. She wasn’t just talking about bridges (although I wouldn’t have put it past her; she was full of random tidbits like that).

In love and life, there’s a tendency to rush toward solutions or declarations when what’s truly needed is listening. Conversations are not competitions where the best comeback wins. They’re quiet ballets of sharing and receiving. And real listening? It’s the secret weapon to navigating everything from flirty banter to “Are we exclusive?” talks.

You’d be surprised what you catch when you stop planning your response mid-sentence. Maybe it’s the subtle “I’ve been hurt before” that slips out when your date talks about past relationships. Or your partner’s slight hesitation when discussing their dream job. Listening isn’t just about hearing words; it’s about catching the undercurrent. It’s the first—and perhaps most underrated—step in building meaningful connections.

Authenticity Isn’t as Complicated (or Intimidating) as It Sounds

Let’s get one thing out of the way: authenticity isn’t some single, static thing you tug out of a drawer when feeling particularly “you.” It’s more of a living, breathing way of navigating the world. For me, being authentic means honoring where I came from while staying open to where I’m going. It’s also why I’ve learned not to compartmentalize parts of myself. Yes, I’ll quote Navajo teachings in the same conversation where I reference Beyoncé lyrics because—spoiler alert!—you can bow to ancestral wisdom and still want to join a Beyoncé dance-off.

The main takeaway here? Being yourself doesn’t require a grand reveal; it’s a thousand little choices to show up as you are. If you’re running late to a date because traffic has been one unholy mess, say so. Don’t come in breathless, muttering about “meetings running over,” unless, well, you actually had a meeting. Showing up authentically—good day, bad mood, or questionable hair choices—lays the groundwork for trust. It says, “This is me, flaws and all. Are you in?”

Laughter Is the Great Equalizer

Picture this: You’re trying to impress someone. Maybe it’s the first date, or maybe it’s your partner after a rough week when romance feels like trying to start a car with a dying battery. You’re doing all the right things—you’ve pulled out your best stories, said all the smart things you read online about emotional intimacy, and... the mood still feels lukewarm.

Now try cracking a joke. Maybe not a stand-up comedy-worthy routine, but something silly, playful, or joyfully self-deprecating. (In my case, it’s often a comment about my inability to fold fitted sheets because honestly, how do those corners even work?) Laughter relaxes us. It’s a universal connector. Have you ever tried being mad while laughing? It’s like trying to keep a grudge against someone who just passed you the last slice of pizza—it’s nearly impossible.

Relationships thrive on joy, and laughter threads that joy through even the heavy stuff. It’s not just about trading one-liners or quoting episodes of Ted Lasso. It’s about ease. Laughter says, “I see you, and I’ll keep seeing you—even if life gets messy.” (Pro tip: Life will always get messy, so you might as well laugh while cleaning it up.)

Balance Means Knowing When to Hold On and When to Let Go

A friend once asked me how I always seem so centered. (I laughed because, truthfully, “centered” me is mostly a result of coffee and pep talks to myself in reflective surfaces.) But I understand where they were coming from. Balance isn’t about having it all figured out—it’s about being okay with the ebb and flow.

This is something I stand for unapologetically: you don’t have to cling to every person, idea, or relationship. Letting go isn’t a failure; it’s a natural rhythm. I’ve had my share of heartbreaks—one that hit me so hard I spent three weeks eating nothing but microwavable noodles and crying at YouTube compilations of people finding out they were going to be grandparents. But on the other side of grief, I also discovered how freeing it was to release what no longer served me.

Holding on doesn’t make you loyal; letting go doesn’t make you selfish. What matters is aligning your actions with what’s healthy and true to you. Whether you’re shedding toxic patterns, walking away from a one-sided romance, or just Marie Kondo-ing your friendships, the goal is the same: make space for what feels nourishing and real.

Kindness Keeps It All Together

In a world where ghosting has apparently become a competitive sport, kindness is a radical act. It’s not just a virtue reserved for Miss Universe speeches or reducing our carbon footprints—kindness is a tool we can use in every interaction, especially in relationships.

I used to think kindness was about giving big gestures—surprise gifts, handwritten love letters (which, to be clear, I’m still a fan of). But over the years, I’ve realized that kindness is more about daily deposits than occasional splurges. It’s noticing when someone’s eyes light up at their favorite hot sauce and buying an extra jar. It’s putting your phone away when your partner’s recounting their day, even if part of you really wants to Google why flamingos stand on one leg (been there, Googled it).

Kindness isn’t just for the Hallmark moments; it’s a practice for the mundane, the stressful, the in-betweens. It’s what gives relationships their glue—the tender, unspoken awareness that someone sees and values you even in your most human, less-than-Instagram-perfect moments.

The Takeaway

So what do I stand for? I stand for showing up and listening like your life depends on it—because often, your relationships do. I stand for laughing even when my fitted sheets look like rogue parachutes. For being authentically myself, Beyoncé references and all, and for letting go when the rhythm changes. Above all, I stand for kindness—the kind that roots connections, softens hurts, and leaves people (yourself included!) a little better than you found them.

Because, honestly? Love isn’t about having all the answers or nailing the “perfect” date. It’s about the journey—the messy, joyful, complicated journey—and the small acts that get us closer to connection. From flirt to familiar, every step of love begins with standing firm in what matters most. And for me, that’s listening, laughing, and loving without apology.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a stack of fitted sheets to conquer. Or at least attempt. (But hey, I’ll laugh through it, so that counts for something, right?)