The Fourth of July: Reflecting on Freedom and Change

The Fourth of July is the day we celebrate freedom from tyranny with backyard BBQs, apple pie, and fireworks lighting up the sky. We fought for the right to rule ourselves, to build a country that served everyone, not just the richest among us. “No taxation without representation,” we cried. And we meant it.

But 250 years later, I wonder if we’ve forgotten why we fought that war in the first place.

Our government hasn’t truly changed in all that time. The laws still reflect a world that no longer exists. A world where messages took weeks to travel across the country and communities were isolated and unconnected. But today, a message can cross the continent in a fraction of a second. The world has changed. We have changed. But our systems haven’t kept up.

Worse, it feels like we’re acting as though we never won that war.

Political parties are no longer serving the people. Representation has become a transaction. Our leaders are too often purchased by the highest bidder, and the average American is left wondering if their voice matters at all. I understand the anger. I understand why so many are hungry for change. But I can’t help but ask, is tyranny what we really want?

I hated Social Studies in school. My teachers made me memorize names and dates, and my brain just didn’t work that way. But in college, I had a professor who taught history as story. And finally, I listened.

Because stories stick. Stories help us understand the horror, the courage, the hope. That’s why I write them.

Today, I’m a veteran and a veteran’s widow. I was once a soldier, even if I didn’t join out of patriotism. I lost my husband to the war he fought, even if it was years after he fired his last round. I know what it’s like to watch the world burn. I know what it’s like to hope for peace and see history repeat itself anyway.

So this Fourth of July, I hope we tell stories that matter. Stories of integrity. Stories of hope. Stories that remind us who we are and, more importantly, who we still want to be.

That’s why I wrote Bent but Not Broken.
Not just to honor my husband, but to speak the truth we so often silence. The truth about war, about grief, about what it means to survive when the battle is supposed to be over.

If any of this speaks to you, I hope you’ll visit StillMovingForward.com and walk with me through the story that shaped the woman I became.

Because if we don’t learn from our past, we’ll keep rewriting the same painful chapters. And I want something better for my children. For my grandchildren.
For all of us.