It’s Monday.

I woke up, put on my pant suit and went to work for a nasty woman.

I picked up a safety pin around the office and placed it on a folder to take a photo.

That zone in on your purpose in life moment happened as I stared down at the yellow.

What’s the deal with these, anyways?

Movements begin because there is a recognizable problem in society — and this one really rocks the boat.

We wear the safety pin because people like myself have been ridiculed in public before to be a successful punch line of a joke.

We wear the pin because honestly, we don’t know what else to do.

All I can speak for is myself and this is my truth:

I wish someone had been wearing their pin when I was called a fag in public. I wish someone was there to cry with me in the coffee shop I sat in trying to make sense of the Bible. I wish someone had on their pin when I didn’t know who to trust.

So here I am. Wearing my pin.

If I promise it won’t take your guns away, would you please wear one, too?