The unicorn, a creature of myth and wonder, embodies the essence of rarity and beauty, much like my own journey through life as an individual with autism. Just as the unicorn stands apart from the ordinary, I too navigate the world with a perspective that is uniquely my own.
The unicorn’s horn, a symbol of purity and healing, mirrors my ability to see the world in ways others might overlook. My mind, much like the unicorn’s magical nature, processes information with a depth and clarity that can reveal hidden patterns and connections. This gift allows me to approach challenges with creativity and insight, transforming obstacles into opportunities for growth.
In a world that often values conformity, the unicorn reminds me of the strength found in embracing my differences. Its grace and elegance inspire me to move through life with confidence, knowing that my uniqueness is my greatest asset. The unicorn’s mythical status reflects the mystery and wonder that I bring to the world, encouraging others to see beyond the surface and appreciate the richness of diverse perspectives.
Perhaps it is this deep connection to the unicorn that draws me to Scotland, a land where the unicorn is celebrated as the national animal. The rich history and enchanting landscapes of Scotland captivate my imagination, offering a sense of belonging and inspiration. The simplicity yet profound beauty of its rolling hills and ancient castles resonate with my soul, inviting me to dream of visiting or even moving there one day. Maybe, amidst the misty highlands, I will find a Scotsman who shares the same dreams and desires that my heart calls for—a love like Jamie and Claire Fraser’s, filled with adventure, passion, and deep connection.
As I navigate the complexities of life, the unicorn serves as a guiding light, reminding me that my journey is one of beauty and significance. My autistic mind, much like the unicorn, is a testament to the power of individuality and the endless possibilities that arise when we embrace who we truly are. Scotland, with its deep-rooted connection to this mythical creature, feels like a place where my spirit can truly thrive.
Countries I Want to Visit and Why: A Personal Journey
Traveling isn’t just about seeing new places—it’s about chasing stories, feelings, and moments that make the world feel bigger and closer at the same time. Scotland, the Netherlands, Ireland, and England and Wales (Great Britain) have been on my mind for years, each pulling me in with their unique histories, landscapes, and cultures. Here’s why I’m drawn to these places and what I hope to experience in each.
1. Scotland Scotland feels like it’s calling my soul with its wild, untamed beauty. I imagine standing on a windswept cliff in the Highlands, breathing in the crisp air, surrounded by jagged mountains and shimmering lochs. I’m fascinated by its history—castles like Eilean Donan and Stirling whisper tales of clans, rebellions, and resilience. I want to wander Edinburgh’s cobblestone streets during the Fringe Festival, soaking in the energy of performers and storytellers. The thought of sipping a peaty single malt whisky by a pub fire, listening to a local share tales of folklore like the Loch Ness Monster, makes me feel connected to something ancient. Scotland’s rugged charm and proud culture feel like a place where I could lose myself and find something new.
2. The Netherlands The Netherlands strikes me as a perfect blend of creativity and calm. I picture myself cycling along Amsterdam’s canals, the water reflecting colorful, gabled houses as I head to the Van Gogh Museum to stand in front of Sunflowers, feeling the passion in every brushstroke. Beyond the city, I’m eager to visit Keukenhof in spring, where endless tulip fields in reds, yellows, and pinks would be a photographer’s dream. I’m curious about the Dutch way of life—how they’ve mastered balance, from their eco-friendly cities to cozy cafés serving stroopwafels. I want to visit historic towns like Utrecht or Delft, where time feels slower, and maybe even try my hand at a windmill tour to understand this innovative country’s past. The Netherlands feels like a place where art and serenity meet, and I want to soak it all in.
3. Ireland Ireland’s pull is almost mythical. I want to drive along the Wild Atlantic Way, with its green hills rolling into the sea and dramatic Cliffs of Moher rising against crashing waves. I’m captivated by Ireland’s ancient Celtic heritage—sites like Newgrange, older than the pyramids, make me want to trace the steps of ancestors. I can’t wait to settle into a Galway pub, where live music fills the air with fiddles and laughter, and locals share stories over a pint of Guinness. Ireland’s warmth, its blend of joy and melancholy in its music and poetry, feels like it would speak to my heart. Whether exploring Dublin’s literary haunts or hiking in Connemara, I want to feel the pulse of a land that’s both vibrant and timeless.
4. England and Wales (Great Britain) England and Wales together feel like a tapestry of history, culture, and adventure. In England, I’m drawn to London’s electric energy—standing in Trafalgar Square, visiting the British Museum, or catching a West End show. But I also crave the quiet of the Cotswolds, with its stone villages that look like they’re from a storybook. Stonehenge is a must, not just for its mystery but to feel the weight of thousands of years under my feet. I’m a bit of a literature nerd, so walking in the footsteps of Shakespeare in Stratford-upon-Avon or visiting Jane Austen’s Bath would be a dream. In Wales, I’m itching to explore Snowdonia’s peaks, maybe even try hiking up Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) for a view that takes my breath away. Castles like Caernarfon and the Welsh language’s lyrical sound pull me to a culture that feels both proud and welcoming. England and Wales together promise a mix of bustling history and serene landscapes.
Why These Places Matter to Me
Each of these destinations feels like a chapter in a story I want to live. Scotland’s wild spirit, the Netherlands’ artistic calm, Ireland’s soulful warmth, and the rich, layered history of England and Wales—they all offer something unique yet connected. I’m chasing moments: the chill of a Scottish morning, the creak of a Dutch windmill, the laughter in an Irish pub, the ancient stones of a Welsh castle. These places feel like they’ll challenge me to see the world differently, to slow down and savor the beauty of cultures that have thrived for centuries.
What are the most important things needed to live a good life?
What does a good life look like for me? It’s like framing the perfect shot with my camera—catching the light just right, finding the angle that feels honest. It’s not about money or fame, but about living in a way that lets my heart sing, like I’m twirling under a Highland sky or laughing with someone who feels like home.
First, I need relationships where I can be my true self, no filters needed. Like those late-night talks with a friend, sharing cheesy love songs or a 2 a.m. snack, where I don’t worry about being “too much.” Those moments, where I can ramble about my autistic way of seeing the world—like how light dances on water—or dive into a story without feeling judged, are my lifeline. They’re the warmth that holds me together, and I want to fill my life with people who see the real me.
Then there’s my empathy, this quiet gift I’ve always had. As a kid, I’d hug strangers because I could feel their sadness; now, it’s how I connect with horses, their steady presence making me feel safe. A good life means embracing that instinct—listening deeply, offering comfort, building bridges. It’s not just about others; it’s about how alive I feel when I’m there for someone.
Creativity is my heartbeat. Photography lets me tell stories, freezing moments of light and emotion like a scene from Outlander. A good life has room for that—wandering with my camera, chasing golden hour, making something that’s mine. Even with my cybersecurity work, I need these moments, because they’re when I’m most myself.
Freedom to be me is everything. Masking to fit in is exhausting, like dimming a flame. A good life means finding spaces—friends, work, or just solo time—where my autistic self is enough. Where I can geek out about light patterns or romantic tales without feeling “weird.” That freedom is where I thrive.
I also want experiences that spark joy, not just things. A spontaneous adventure—like dancing in the rain or stargazing with someone special—beats any fancy gadget. Those heart-racing, rom-com-worthy moments are what I’ll carry forever. I want a life woven with them, whether it’s a far-off trip or a quiet laugh shared over coffee.
Balance is tough but crucial. My cybersecurity degree pays the bills, but my soul lives in photography and storytelling. A good life blends both—using my skills to support my dreams without letting them drown out what I love. It’s about small steps toward a life where I’m not just getting by but truly creating.
Finally, nature keeps me grounded. Horses, open fields, the hush of a forest—it’s where my intuition wakes up. A good life includes time there, whether I’m riding, walking, or just sitting somewhere green, feeling the earth’s pulse.
To build this life, I’ll start now: plan a photography day this month, have a heart-to-heart with a friend, and try one new way to be unapologetically me, like sharing a quirky idea at work. A good life grows from these moments, and I’m ready to nurture them.
My newest creation.my rabbit photo and AI background I made to go with it.
California’s sanctuary state policies, particularly the California Values Act (SB 54) of 2017, have deepened national divisions by restricting local law enforcement’s cooperation with federal immigration authorities. SB 54 prohibits local police from detaining individuals for immigration violations unless they have been convicted of specific serious crimes, such as violent felonies. While supporters claim this protects vulnerable communities, critics argue it undermines federal authority and the rule of law. Democrats, particularly liberals in California, champion these policies, framing them as moral imperatives. This stance fuels contention, disrespects legal processes, and erodes trust across the nation. Every state in the United States—from Texas to New York, Florida to Washington—must respect and uphold immigration laws and all federal laws to maintain national unity and ensure fairness. When states pick and choose which laws to enforce, they weaken the foundation of a cohesive society.
The media, often aligned with liberal narratives, exacerbates this divide by downplaying the consequences of illegal immigration and criticizing enforcement efforts. This selective reporting distorts public perception, casting legal accountability as cruelty and ignoring the strain on communities. Liberal leaders and complicit media outlets must be held accountable for fostering an environment where disrespect for the law is normalized, as their actions deepen polarization and undermine the rule of law nationwide.
Illegal immigration itself is a divisive issue. The United States offers legal pathways—visas, asylum applications, and refugee programs—designed to balance humanitarian needs with security and fairness. Bypassing these channels is dishonest and disrespectful to those who endure lengthy legal processes. It’s not about labeling people as “illegal”; it’s about recognizing that unlawful actions have consequences. In 2024, U.S. Customs and Border Protection reported approximately 2.6 million migrant encounters at the southern border, up from 2.5 million in 2023, overwhelming resources and straining border communities. This influx can enable human smuggling, and while not directly tied to widespread crime, high-profile incidents involving undocumented individuals fuel public frustration.
Individuals have a responsibility to respect a nation’s laws, just as they would expect respect for their own communities. Legal immigration strengthens societies; illegal entry sows division and resentment. All 50 states share the duty to uphold federal laws, including immigration policies, to prevent the chaos that arises when laws are selectively enforced. States like California, by prioritizing ideology over legal accountability, set a dangerous precedent that others must avoid.
Democrats, the media, and all states must acknowledge their role in perpetuating this crisis by failing to consistently uphold legal standards. California’s sanctuary policies, driven by liberal agendas, risk tearing the country apart. For the United States to heal, every state, from Alabama to Wyoming, must commit to enforcing federal laws, ensuring immigration is addressed humanely while maintaining national unity and respect for the rule of law.
I’m filled with excitement as I imagine a future where I can weave together my passion for cybersecurity, photography, and visual storytelling. Becoming a Cybersecurity Content Creator or Technical Writer feels like a perfect fit—it lets me merge my deep knowledge of cybersecurity with my love for crafting compelling narratives. As an autistic woman, I see the world through a unique lens, noticing intricate details and patterns that others might overlook. This perspective fuels my desire to create content that’s not only informative but also deeply human, making complex topics like phishing or encryption relatable through stories about everyday people, like a small business owner dodging a scam or a parent securing their online accounts.
At the same time, pursuing my passion for photography and graphic design through visual storytelling opens up another creative avenue. I envision producing blog posts, tutorials, or infographics that blend technical cybersecurity insights with striking visuals, using tools like Canva to design explainers that simplify concepts like two-factor authentication. My photography can capture the beauty of everyday moments—light on a building, a kind gesture—that I can weave into my cybersecurity narratives, making them visually and emotionally engaging. I dream of creating a series called “The Cybersecurity Storyboard,” where short animations or infographics tell relatable stories about online threats, like a character outsmarting a phishing scam, brought to life with vibrant, narrative-driven visuals.
The flexibility of freelancing or working independently is a huge draw, aligning with my need for a calm, self-directed environment. Starting small feels achievable—I can write a blog post, create a short video, or design a visual for my portfolio, sharing them on platforms like Medium, X, or Instagram to build my presence. Platforms like Upwork can help me land freelance gigs to gain experience. I know challenges like impostor syndrome or balancing technical accuracy with creativity might arise, but I’m ready to lean into my unique voice and use trusted sources to ensure precision.
This path feels like a way to make a real impact—empowering people to stay safe online while letting my creativity shine through storytelling, photography, and graphic design. I’m thrilled to take the first step, trusting that my perspective as an autistic woman will help me create something truly special in both cybersecurity and visual storytelling.
The cardinal’s song catches me off guard, a fleeting note that pulls me back to Dad. His stories, his warmth, the way he made life feel anchored—they’re gone now, and the silence cuts deep. It’s the same ache I carry for Toby, my dog, who’d bound toward me with uncontainable joy, and Little Grey, my cat, whose soft purrs were a quiet constant in my days. Losing them carved hollows in my heart, places I’m still learning to tread lightly. And then there’s my marriage—eight years of love, dreams, and promises I thought would hold strong, even after the move to Ohio. I believed we’d weather that change together, but instead, it unraveled, leaving me with a longing for the forever I’d envisioned with my ex-husband.
I read about Sam Heughan, how he reconnected with his dad after years apart, only to lose him to illness. That resonates. Like Sam, I know the sting of missed moments, the ache of what might have been. He walked Scotland’s trails to find meaning in his loss, piecing himself together in the quiet of the highlands. I find my own path in smaller things—a cardinal’s call, a flash of Toby’s wagging tail in my memory, or Little Grey’s gentle gaze. They’re not just gone; they’re woven into who I am, guiding me forward even as I grieve.
The move to Ohio was supposed to be a new chapter, not the end of us. I’d pictured my marriage enduring, growing stronger through the change—a shared adventure with laughter and late-night talks, like the early days with my ex-husband. But disconnection crept in, slow and relentless, until divorce became the only road left. That loss—of love, of the future we planned—feels like another death, layered atop losing Dad, Toby, and Little Grey. It’s a weight I carry, the dream of a marriage that should have lasted, that I fought to hold onto. Yet, like Sam’s Jamie Fraser, who loses family and home but presses on, I’ve found strength in carrying that grief. I hold tight to the love I felt—Dad’s warm laugh, Toby’s loyal nudge, Little Grey’s quiet presence, and the moments when my marriage felt unbreakable. Those memories shape me, teaching me what connection can mean.
Now, as I prepare for another transition—moving to California for simplicity and a fresh start—I feel the echo of these losses but also the hope they’ve sparked. I’m not there yet, but I’m reaching for a place where I can rebuild, where the weight of Ohio’s disconnection might lift. I crave authentic connection, the kind I’ve always chased, where hearts meet openly, like the love I once believed in with my ex-husband. Sam turned his grief into purpose, building something meaningful through his charity. I’m finding mine in the small signs—a dragonfly landing, a bird’s song, a moment that feels like Dad, Toby, or Little Grey whispering, “Keep going.” These losses, these transitions, have taught me to love fiercely, to seek kindness, to chase what matters. The marriage I thought would last didn’t, but it showed me what I’m capable of giving and what I still hope to find. As I step toward this new chapter in California, I carry their love with me, ready to weave new threads of hope, just as Sam found his through his own journey of loss and discovery.
Listen, I think we need to shift our focus when it comes to actors and actresses. It’s time we look beyond the surface:
Character Over Facade: These artists pour their souls into their roles, spending years perfecting their craft. We should be applauding their dedication, their ability to bring depth to characters, and how they touch our hearts.
The Heart of the Matter: So many of them use their influence for the greater good, like raising awareness for causes or supporting charities. Take Sam Heughan, for example, with his My Peak Challenge – pushing for health and helping others. Don’t we want to acknowledge that part of them?
They’re Humans, Not Just Faces: Beneath the glamour, they’re just like us, with their own stories, struggles, and triumphs. Reducing them to mere eye candy is missing the point, like judging a book by its cover.
Mental Health Is Real: The constant scrutiny on appearance can really affect someone’s mental well-being. By valuing what’s inside, we’re contributing to a kinder, more understanding world for these folks.
Expand the Conversation: Let’s talk about their contributions to our culture, art, and society. Their talent, their voice, their actions – that’s what matters.
My Perspective: As a high functioning autistic woman, I see beyond the looks to the character. It’s baffling how often people miss the beauty of someone’s soul because they’re too focused on the outside. I see the details, the kindness, the passion – all the things that truly make a person who they are.
Protecting Their Humanity: If I had a partner who was an actor, I would do anything to protect him, even if it means telling people they really need to take a look at this and realize that actors are human beings just like the rest of us. They deserve to be seen for who they truly are, not just for how they appear on screen or in photos.
Let’s start a movement where we genuinely celebrate the essence of those in the entertainment industry. True beauty? It’s in their character, their kindness, and their impact on the world.
In a world that often feels divided, it is crucial to find moments of unity and understanding. As we observe both Pride Month and Veterans Month, we are presented with a unique opportunity to celebrate diversity and honor those who have served, while embracing the core values of love and respect that bind us all.
Pride Month is a time to recognize and celebrate the LGBTQ+ community, acknowledging the struggles and triumphs in the ongoing fight for equality and acceptance. It is a month that champions love in all its forms, reminding us that everyone deserves to live authentically and without fear.
Veterans Month, on the other hand, is dedicated to honoring the brave individuals who have served in the military, sacrificing so much to protect the freedoms we hold dear. It is a time to express gratitude and support for those who have dedicated their lives to service.
At first glance, these two observances may seem distinct, but they share a common thread: the celebration of courage, resilience, and the human spirit. Both Pride Month and Veterans Month call us to reflect on the values of love, respect, and unity.
Growing up in a Christian home filled with love, kindness, respect, and understanding, I was taught by my dad to treat people how you want to be treated. This golden rule emphasizes that everyone deserves to be treated with kindness, love, compassionate care, and respect. Yet, in today’s world, it often feels like these values are overshadowed by division and hostility. It seems as though we are being tested to see if we can truly love those who are different from us, challenging us to rise above and embrace the diversity of God’s creation.
In a society that often highlights differences, it is essential to remember the words of Jesus: “Love one another as I have loved you.” This call to love transcends disagreements and differences, urging us to see the humanity in each person. We may not always agree with each other’s lifestyles or choices, but we can choose to approach each other with kindness and understanding.
Love has the power to heal and transform. It can bridge divides and create a more inclusive and compassionate world. By embracing love and respect, we can honor both the LGBTQ+ community and our veterans, recognizing their contributions and the richness they bring to our society.
As we celebrate these important months, let us commit to walking the walk of love and acceptance. Let us listen, learn, and support one another, creating a world where everyone feels valued and respected. In doing so, we honor the spirit of both Pride Month and Veterans Month, and we take a step towards a brighter, more united future.
We start being more kinder to each other and less hostile and hateful to each other. We all need to live in harmony with each other, even if we don’t agree with others. It’s time for common sense and love to come back.
Deep Thinking 