Hi! Welcome back to Nuance Needed and to another edition of Pep Talks with Sam.
Today’s post is different than I originally planned. As I sat down to record, it just so happened to be the 4th of July. And instead of diving into one of the topics I had outlined, I found myself thinking — deeply — about this country, about mental health, about hope, and about what it actually means to be an American right now.
So today’s pep talk is a reflection. A moment to pause in the mess of it all and remind ourselves what it means to care, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.
The Tension Between Heartbreak and Hope
I spent the day with friends. I went to the beach. I took time off. And still — all day — my thoughts kept returning to the weight of what we’re living through in the United States.
I don’t need to walk you through the headlines. You already know. You feel it, too. The discouragement. The heartbreak. The helplessness.
And as a therapist, even with all the tools, I want you to know, I feel it too.
It’s a complicated thing to love this country deeply while also being devastated by what she’s going through. To love what she could be, and to grieve what she currently is. And I’ve wrestled with that tension for years.
Can You Be Patriotic If You're Also Disillusioned?
For a long time, I didn’t know if I could be patriotic.
Could I claim love for a country founded on genocide, slavery, exclusion, and systemic harm?
A country that has taken centuries — and still hasn’t succeeded — in granting equality to all of its citizens?
But the answer I keep coming back to is: yes.
Not in the blind, flag-waving way that ignores history or pretends injustice doesn’t exist. But in the radical, honest, defiant belief that we are not done becoming who we said we would be.
And more importantly: that the belief in abundance — not fear, not scarcity — is the most American thing we can hold onto right now.
America Has Abundance. But It Isn’t Shared.
We are, factually, the wealthiest nation in the world. Our potential to do good — to invest in human lives, to transform communities, to create safety and belonging for everyone — is unmatched.
And yet that abundance has been hoarded, weaponized, and distorted.
We see it every day in policy, in politics, in public discourse.
But when I get discouraged, I try to bring it back to the people.
To the abundance I see in us.
To the Americans I know — those born here, and those who came here to build a dream — who are still trying to make this work. Who still believe it can be better.
Progress Feels Small. But It’s Not Nothing.
A lot of us feel like what we’re doing isn’t enough. That our contributions are too small. That fighting for what’s right — for mental health care, for equity, for justice — feels meaningless when things are so broken.
But the truth is, progress often feels like nothing in the moment.
Going to therapy once doesn’t change your life. But going every week might.
Getting outside for 15 minutes doesn’t change the world. But doing it daily can change your brain.
Voting, volunteering, learning, speaking up. It can feel futile. But history proves it never is.
If enough people do small things consistently, it creates momentum. And momentum is what leads to movements.
A Reminder From History
When I zoom out — when I pull into that 30,000-foot view I encourage my clients to take — I remember:
Enslaved people who fought for their freedom, even when they had no reason to believe it would come.
Abolitionists who refused to give up, even as injustice reigned.
Suffragists who fought for my right to vote.
Queer activists at Stonewall who demanded visibility and safety.
Civil rights leaders who marched, organized, and persisted through lynchings, through silence, through betrayal.
I think of all the people who did their small part in devastating times — and moved us closer to justice anyway.
And then I ask myself:
How dare I — a white, cis, straight American woman — feel hopeless?
How dare I not use every ounce of agency I have to fight for the country I believe in?
They Don’t Get to Take It From Us
Let me be clear: I refuse to let the goons, the power-hungry, the uninformed, or the hateful define what it means to be American.
They don’t get to steal my belief in what’s possible.
They don’t get to co-opt hope.
They don’t get to decide the direction of this country without me raising my voice and using it.
Because I do believe in the United States.
Not in what she is, but in what she could still become.
You Are Still Part of the Story
If we each recommit, even in quiet ways, to building something better, I believe our best days can still be ahead.
Whether it’s:
Getting more civically engaged
Amplifying fact and science
Defending the dignity of others
Caring for your own mental health
Choosing hope, even when it’s hard
Every action counts.
And as Sarah McBride so beautifully said in her interview with Ezra Klein:
“I have no right to not feel hopeful when I look back at the history of activism in this country.”
That quote lives rent-free in my brain. It reminds me that we come from a long line of people who fought for better… even when they were tired. Even when they had every reason to give up.
So I’ll keep fighting.
And I hope you will too.
Thanks for being here. For listening. For being someone who cares.
Let me know what this brought up for you in the comments. Whether it gave you hope, made you mad, or simply reminded you that you’re not alone in the way you're feeling right now.
Until next time,
Sam 💛
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