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Listen: My Interview with Unstoppable Coach

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Want to know what my worst, most crushing moment was? The moment when I almost gave up on my business? Or how about why I decided to work with Empaths? Want to know the secrets I use to grow my business? Have you ever thought about being a coach and want to know more? 

Listen to the super-fun, extremely open interview I did with the lovely Millette Jones!

You can listen below in the embedded player, or visit these links to download: 

iTunes: http://www.unstoppablecoach.co/itunes

Stitcher: http://www.unstoppablecoach.co/stitcher

Also, make sure to visit Millette's site to make sure you never miss an episode of this inspiring podcast: http://www.unstoppablecoach.co/tarameyerrobson

I love to hear from you, so please send your comments or questions! 

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My Response to Charlottesville: We Must Rise Up With Love, Not More Hate

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I’ve given a great deal of thought to how to respond to the horrors in Charlottesville over the weekend. Here it is: 

I don’t want to hate anyone, not only because hate is bad for my health, but because hate is never the answer. I mean, it is literally never the answer. However, I’m human, and it’s hard not to hate the people that attended the Nazi rally in Charlottesville. 

However, hating gives them more of what they want. Hate is what caused them to be who they are today. Hate is what fuels them. God only knows what factors in their lives taught them to hate that much; we don’t come into this world filled with this sort of frothing, gasping, violent hate in our hearts. Hate is taught. Hate is learned. This kind of hate often stems from deep fears and even deeper feelings of inadequacy. People like this rarely take responsibility for themselves, their actions, or their failings. They’ve likely been bullied or made to feel powerless at some point in their lives, so they’ve become the bully to try to feel more powerful.

It’s a pitiful, emasculated way of being built on a fake notion of masculinity and strength. I’d feel sorry for them if they weren’t so horrific. 

Then, I thought about the fact that these people would wish me, my husband, and our beautiful Afro-Latina daughter dead. If they saw us, they would absolutely spout horrifying things; things I saw repeated over and over on Twitter during the election, as they crawled out from under their rocks, legitimized by hateful rhetoric. Things like “If you adopt black children or marry a black man, you are participating in white genocide,”or the lovely “If you are white and raising a black child, you are raising the devil.” Truthfully, I saw a lot worse than that, with images of black children hung or dead or memes celebrating the death of a black person. 

And I started to be afraid. I was afraid for my daughter, because while we are doing everything we can to make sure she has a strong connection to her Caribbean, Puerto Rican, and African American roots, those same roots make her a target of this kind of terrorism. Just the color of her skin makes our sweet, innocent, giggly little girl a target of their hate and violence. Spurred by my raging motherly instincts to protect her at all costs, I began to feel that maybe we shouldn’t travel much right now, in case we encounter these kinds of people somewhere. I found myself walking by people and wondering: “Is this one of them?” and wanting to cover her up. Fearful, I started to have a deep desire to hide us all away in the safety of our home. 

I realized this was crap. I won’t give them the satisfaction of fear. I won’t play into their desires by hiding away my family because of their twisted view of the world.  

And then I thought about what my little family was doing while this disgusting rally was happening: We were getting first birthday pictures done for our precious little girl, all the while smiling, giggling, and showing our love as a family. Strangers were stopping and breaking into huge smiles as they saw her, all dressed up and giggling, and us, all dressed up and beaming with pride. More than one person stopped to tell us that seeing our little family made their day, and marveled at how gorgeous she is and how loving our family is together. 

So, while a bunch of people were raging with hate, we were filled with love and joy and pride. We were inspiring other people by simply BEING the love we feel for each other. 

In fact, we were doing what the majority of Americans were doing that day—going about our lives, living with love in our hearts and trying to make the world a little better. As I thought about that, I began to glance through my news feed to see what my friends were doing that day. There was a gay couple celebrating the fact that their child just learned to ride a bike. There was another gay couple dropping their gorgeous, accomplished adopted daughter off to college. There were many Muslim, Hindu, Italian, German, Irish, or a-little-bit-of-this-and-that families out and about together, laughing and teasing each other. There were couples of every race riding bikes, running, watching movies, or just hanging out together. Little kids of every shade under the sun were playing on swing sets and basketball courts and playgrounds. People of every color were born, were dying, were mourning losses, were finding the beauty in moments. 

In short, the vast majority of us were being Americans—real Americans. Heck, we were simply being real human beings. We were socializing and texting and shopping and eating and hanging out. We were showing love and compassion for each other. We were families of every color, creed, and inclination simply being families and celebrating the fact that we live in a land built by immigrants and made better by a melting pot of perspectives and cultures. 

That’s what America is. And because of that, this kind of hate will not make us afraid. It will not break us down. It will not win. It. Will. Not. Win.

And we won’t hate. We will love each other more. We will be more compassionate. We will work harder on being more inclusive. We will recognize the overlooked and do something about it. We will love harder, even when it’s harder to love. 

And when we do that, we prevail. In "The American Crisis," written during the Revolutionary War, Thomas Paine said, "These are the times that try men's souls." 

The soul of America is being tested yet again, and this test gives us the opportunity to, without fear or wavering, declare that love, diversity, and American ideals are of value to all of us; that we truly are better and stronger together. And that is what we will do—we will rise up, and we will stop this in its tracks. As our leadership falters, we are now, each of us, called to be leaders, and we will not falter.

We need to follow in the footsteps of the incredible Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. His model of strong, centered, passive resistance worked for the Civil Rights Movement, and it will work again. 

As he so correctly noted, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."

Lead with love. Love wins. Love always wins.

How to Make Better Decisions: Why Happiness is the Best Compass of Which Direction You Should Go in Your Life.

How to Make Better Decisions: Why Happiness is the Best Compass of Which Direction You Should Go in Your Life.

Decision-making can be excruciating, especially if it's an especially important decision. If you are like me, your mind swirls with worry about making the “right” decision or the “best” decision, endlessly swinging between options like a pendulum out of control. You try to take every possible factor into consideration: “How will this person feel? Am I letting someone down? What will the future be like if I go this way?” (And so on, and so on, and so on...for hours or even days.)

I’m happy to report that I've finally figured out a better way to make decisions, and it's made my life a whole lot easier.

Even Perfect Women Have a Breaking Point: How to Give Yourself a Break Before You Fall Apart

Even Perfect Women Have a Breaking Point: How to Give Yourself a Break Before You Fall Apart

I ripped the leg off my Barbie as a child.

This confession comes with a caveat: It was an accident. I was simply trying to see how flexible she was and kept clicking the leg back until “crack!” - it  just came off. 

As it turns out, even the “perfect woman” has a breaking point.