#Unsettled

I remember when my eldest was a baby. He was the first grandchild, the little prince, and we simply couldn’t get enough of him. My mother and aunts would smother him in kisses, declaring that a baby needed at least 1,000 kisses every single day.

That “baby” is now in his twenties, and if you see us today, I’m still smothering his cheeks with those 1,000 kisses as often as I can.

That’s just how I roll. I love out loud.

I grew up in a house where “I love you” was the background noise of our lives. Hugs and kisses were as natural as breathing. Being raised by a mother from an “off the boat” Greek family, I just assumed every household was like mine: loud, joyful, and deeply embedded in each other’s business. As I got older, I realized that not everyone is as “open” as we are—or “free,” as I like to call it.

This upbringing is likely the source of my directness. I’ve never been afraid to voice an opinion. While I might not always shout it from the rooftops, everyone knows exactly where they stand with me. I’m direct, I’m to the point, and I’m honest. I’ll answer any question you throw at me—so you’d better be careful what you ask.

I try to be as authentic as I can. I live out loud.

I am now fully aware that not all families operate at this volume. My middle son gave me a reality check recently when I asked him why he doesn’t invite his friends over as often as his siblings do. He looked at me and said, “Mom… not everyone is as unfiltered as you. I don’t always trust what’s going to come out of your mouth.”

I had to laugh because, if I’m being honest, I sometimes don’t know what’s going to come out of my mouth either! But that’s the price of entry for an authentic life. My husband, whose upbringing wasn’t quite as “unfiltered,” had a similar culture shock when we started dating. He couldn’t believe I was on the phone with my mom or sister multiple times a day, or that I was so candid with my father about my love life. Eventually, he didn’t just get used to it—he assimilated.

Recently, I had all three of my “little birds” home for dinner. Nothing makes my heart as full as having them all under the same roof. As I watched them interact, I saw the legacy of those 1,000 kisses.

They are close. They fight, sure, but for the most part, they love each other out loud. Whether it’s the boys ganging up on their sister for a “tickle torture” session (she screams for them to stop, but we all know she instigated it) or them huddling over a funny video, they are connected. They have a sibling group chat that pings daily. They aren’t afraid to hug or kiss us—or each other—in public.

Last week, I was at my son’s college baseball game. As I was leaving, he was still in the dugout with his teammates. I made eye contact to let him know I was heading out, and right there, in front of all “the boys,” he flashed me the “heart” hands. He wasn’t embarrassed. He’s used to it.

In this family, we love out loud.

My husband has branded the women in our family as “Woo Girls.” And he’s right. I woo. I cheer. I’m loud, and I am completely unfiltered. I was lucky enough to find a “tribe” of soul sisters—my fellow Woo Girls who also embrace the freeness and live out loud. It’s a bond that connects us, and we are unapologetic about celebrating life.

This UnSettled tribe is about exactly that: not worrying about what the neighbors think or if you’re “too much” for the room. It’s about the courage to speak freely, the grace to be yourself, and the strength to love out loud. This is my core hope for you, my tribe. I want to inspire you to ignore the noise and stop worrying about what others think. Release that stress—all it does is suck away your energy and your light.

Embrace the freedom to let your light shine. Truly feel free.

So, here is my advice: give the 1,000 kisses. Throw the heart hands. Be the “woo” in a world that’s often too quiet.

Live out loud. We’re not settling for anything less.