Even in a country unraveling at the seams, choosing care and intentionality is still a radical act.

There comes a point in every generation when the story we were told about who we are as a nation begins to unravel. When we have to face the distance between what we believed this country could be and what it has actually become. For many, that moment is now. The systems we trusted feel fragile. The institutions we built our hopes on are cracking. The people we thought would protect us are often the ones standing in the way of progress.

It is painful to admit that the version of America we grew up believing in is not the one we are living in. But this truth does not have to destroy us. It can awaken us. Because even in the face of disappointment and disillusionment, we still have the ability to choose who we are and what we stand for.

We can still choose a beautiful life. Not a perfect life. Not an easy life. But a life anchored in humanity, kindness, and dignity. A life that refuses to look away from suffering or pretend it does not exist. We can build communities that make room for every kind of person to belong. We can listen to the stories that have been silenced, uplift the voices that have been ignored, and stand beside those who are carrying the heaviest burdens.

We can fight for leaders who remember that power is a privilege, not a possession. We can protect libraries and teachers and journalists who still believe truth matters. We can support small businesses, local artists, and family-owned farms that hold our neighborhoods together. We can take care of one another in quiet, unglamorous ways that never make the news but still change the world.

Because choosing life right now is not about pretending everything is fine. It is about choosing to keep faith with one another when the world tells us to only look out for ourselves. It is about believing that compassion still matters. It is about believing that the work of repair and renewal is possible if enough of us keep showing up for it.

We are living in uncertain and frightening times. But uncertainty is not the same as defeat. Fear is not the same as surrender. And despair is not the end of the story. What comes next is up to us.

So keep choosing life. Keep choosing people. Keep choosing love. The world may be trembling, but so are we, and even in that trembling, something beautiful is still possible.

Tasha Monroe
Founder, Simply Edyn & Co.
Writer & Editor, The Commons Dispatch