A year ago I sat at a table in the Beverly Hilton Hotel for the Boys & Girls Club of America’s “2018 Pacific Youth of the Year” gala. Throughout the evening I told myself not to cry at the heartfelt stories from the young adults and halfway through tears were trickling down my face. Trying to
I told myself I wasn’t going to cry and in spite of every attempt I made, I was crying. It didn’t make sense to lie and blame my tears on my dry contacts because my sniffling was a dead giveaway. I dried my eyes and chuckled a bit at the foolishness of myself because everyone