I often tell people that I was given an incredible gift when my Dad remarried. Up until that point, I was an only child. My stepmom, Pam, had two sons by a previous marriage. I became a sister overnight and I took my role very seriously. In my family, the word “step” was never a part of the equation. We were introduced as a family of five, “…Our sons, Jeremy and Allen and our daughter, Caroline.”

Although you’d never know it, Allen suffered for years with severe depression. On February 8th of this year, Allen took his own life. Allen was an amazing brother! He was caring, compassionate, honest, and never gave anything less than 110% to anything he did.

Allen was the life of the party; always coming up with some joke to make us laugh.

At my high school graduation party, he stole the spotlight when he put on his roller blades and skated around the swimming pool to any random song. Allen was driven! He received his bachelor’s and master’s degrees from the University of Georgia. It was his dream to receive his doctorate from there as well. Allen was the camp director for the Fortson 4-H Center in Hampton, Georgia. He was constantly creating projects and presentation to both inspire and educate children who visited his beloved 4-H camp.

However, when the depression began to take a strong hold on him several months before his passing, Allen began to pull away from the people and activities he loved so much. He stopped eating. He began to lose his drive and focus. He started to question every move he made which was unlike my carefree, lighthearted little brother. Allen was always the one who was up before the rooster crowed. Towards the end of his life, there were countless days that he remained in bed. It was like he was stuck in neutral. Depression literally sucked the life out of Allen. Depression stole my brother.

I can’t exactly tell you how Allen’s death has affected me. I miss him so much!

We were always close growing up and often confided life’s little secrets in one another. Toward the end of his life, Allen and I spoke several times a day through calls, emails and texts. In fact, I spoke with him just minutes before he took his life. I constantly replay the last conversations we had in my mind and often debate with myself if I could have said or done anything differently. There was no doubt that he knew I loved him and vice versa. I know in my heart that I did everything I could to help him.

I’ve experienced loss before. I lost my Mom two years ago very tragically to a pulmonary embolism. I am forever changed because of her loss, however, my Mom did not commit suicide. Allen’s death has spurred a sense of helplessness, as if I were drowning. Yes, I see a professional counselor weekly. Yes, I take medication that helps with my depression and anxiety. This is different! Not only am I grieving my brother’s death, I am also battling with the fact that he committed suicide!

Several weeks ago, I stumbled upon the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention’s (AFSP) website. I’ve learned that we are not alone in this new struggle. There are countless families that suffer through this every day! The AFSP hosts community and campus walks throughout the country to raise awareness, educate and offer support to individuals and families who are struggling with a mental health disorder. They also provide support for those who have lost a loved one to suicide. I’ve chosen to participate in their upcoming walk in Athens, Georgia in Allen’s memory. Athens holds a special place in my heart as it hosts the college that Allen longed to attend since he was in elementary school.

I want to be Allen’s voice!

I want to help, encourage and support those people like me. I want to do what I can to prevent this horrible tragedy from happening to someone else. I want to help in changing the current perception of Mental Health. Those who suffer with anxiety and depression are not crazy! I am not crazy!

There is no doubt in my mind that Allen is with me every day! His death has forever changed me. Even though he was my little brother, I want to be more like him. I want to be more encouraging, more compassionate and be more aware of those around me. I carry a piece of his heart with me every day. I promise to continue his legacy of helping and inspiring those around me. I also promise to raise my daughter in that same light.

For more information about the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP,) please visit www.afsp.org If you’d like to learn more about the upcoming walk in Athens on Sunday, April 24th, please visit afsp.donordrive.com .This link will send you directly to my team’s page, “For Allen.” Here you can learn more about myself and my amazing teammates. Our team is made up of Allen’s friends and family and extended friends who wanted to be a part of this extraordinary cause. And if you feel lead to donate, you can click “Donate” on the page as well. Together we can make a difference.

“It’s cancer.” We hear these words every day—whether it’s in reference to the lump they found in your mother’s breast, the reason you just lost a loved one, or a friend’s recent diagnosis.

This is the reason I immediately joined UGA Relay For Life when I entered college, because I was tired of living in a world where everyone seemed to have cancer. Although no one in my immediate family had cancer at the time, I was constantly exposed to the sadness and devastation cancer wreaked on the people I saw every day.

Shortly after becoming involved with the organization, two very close family members were diagnosed with aggressive terminal cancers.

Rather than throwing in the towel, I turned my sadness and frustration into passion and determination and gave my all to Relay in hopes that my efforts would help to someday create a world with no more cancer. Part of these efforts entail visiting the Atlanta Hope Lodge, a hotel-like accommodation near Emory’s Winship Cancer Institute where cancer patients traveling long distances to receive their treatments can stay free of charge, courtesy of the American Cancer Society and the money we raise through Relay For Life.

It’s a simple visit: we cook them a hot meal, make sure their needs are met, and sit down with them for some conversation. These people confide in us, sharing their stories fully and explaining how cancer affects their lives.

When strangers—and often, friends—hear me talk about Hope Lodge, they say, “why would you do that?” Why would I subject myself to so much sadness, why I would “waste my time” trying to cheer up a bunch of sick people in my spare time?

“Doesn’t that just make you lose all hope?”

I’ve never felt more hope than what I feel when I sit with those people. Hope Lodge residents radiate a certain hopefulness that can’t be matched. Despite their circumstances, these people maintain positive attitudes and have an appreciation for life that no one else can really understand until they’ve been in Hope Lodge residents’ shoes.

UGA Relay For Life has taught me a lot, but perhaps the most valuable lesson is to never lose my faith in the organization’s mission and most importantly, to never give up hope. When I feel defeated, whether it be from school, a job, or what have you, I think of the endless hope that those cancer patients have and I realize how thankful I am to have had this opportunity to meet such inspiring people and to fight for such a worthy cause.

Sophomore and junior year of high school I continuously struggled with the decision to play a sport in college. Its around this time high school athletes not only need to start thinking about the schools they want to attend but also whether pursuing their sport is even realistic. The commitment, time, efforts dedicated to a high school sport pails in comparison to playing the same sport in college.

I was a three-sport athlete in high school and had been playing lacrosse since I was five years old. I was originally born in Maryland, a feeding ground for high school lacrosse athletes, but in middle school my family moved to a suburb outside of Charlotte, NC. In this new city, saying I played lacrosse was like I was speaking a foreign language. My mom and I ended up starting a girls lacrosse program for my high school and in our first year we would lose some games by 20 goals or more.

I was the only one on my high school team who had ever played lacrosse before. In order to challenge myself and to try to continue to get better, I joined numerous travel teams throughout the Charlotte area. We went to many tournaments where college scouts would come and watch us play. It was intimidating but all the more exciting to know some of these people could grant you with an amazing opportunity.

During my junior year, I would receive many letters from scouts and colleges.

Most were smaller D3 and D2 schools offering some financial aid but every once in awhile a D1 school would reach out. Those letters were the most exciting to receive. It was also during this time I started to get burnt out of the sport I had been playing for almost 13 years. It was time to have a serious conversation about what I wanted for my future and whether lacrosse was going to be in it or not.

While continually talking to coaches and scouts of these schools, I was also applying to schools not for lacrosse. I applied to four big, out of state schools I would want to attend. I came to the decision that if lacrosse paid for my college I would play but if I could go to one of these bigger schools for the same amount, I would choose that.

I ended up getting almost a full ride to UGA based on my academic achievements in high school. UGA was also my favorite school I visited so you can only imagine my happiness. I thought I would rather go to a huge university, get involved with many organizations, a sorority, and have some free time rather than dedicate my college career to being an athlete.

After all, as of now there isn’t much opportunity for women to pursue even if you’re an above average athlete.

There is even better news to my story. UGA doesn’t have a D1 collegiate lacrosse program but they have a WCLA team. It is essentially club lacrosse but highly competitive. I found everything I was looking for in a lacrosse collegiate team and would have time to participate in everything else I wanted to do. The commitment is less than if I were going to a school to play lacrosse but we still practice almost every day.

My lacrosse team here has become a second family for me and we even get to go to amazing tournaments in places like Colorado and California. And to my disbelief of how a club team would be, the team here at UGA is surprisingly really good. Right now we are currently ranked very high in the nation and have high hopes for winning a national championship this year.

I could not be more enthused with my decision to play a club sport versus going to school for lacrosse. I do, however, completely support those who use sports as a means of going to college. I also think that looking into the possibilities of playing at a less competitive level should be considered so you can get as much as possible out of your college experience.

I still get to play the sport I love, with people I love, while also not having to wake up at 5am for workouts.

“Come on, open the door,” I said, not sure of what to do.

I waited for him to move, but he stood his ground in front of the doorknob. It was past midnight, and I remained trapped in his room. I wondered how long I would remain here before our friends took notice of my sudden disappearance. Since I met him in October 2014, I called James* my friend. He was a “nice guy” who swore off casual sex, alcohol and drugs. He went out of his way to walk me home at night. He was incredibly polite. But as we became close friends, I began to see two very different sides to his personality.

At night, he sent me heartfelt text messages, but when we fought, he locked me in his room and refused to let me leave. He told me that he wanted the best for me, but when I rejected what I thought were his romantic advances and showed interest in someone else, James threatened to hurt himself.

He humiliated me when we were alone and shamed me, implying that I was easy, a slut and a whore.

Though our friendship had caught on quickly in the beginning, by January I felt trapped and helpless. Unfortunately, experiences like mine are incredibly common.

According to a study done in 2006 by the American Association of University Women Educational Foundation, nearly two-thirds of college students experience some type of sexual harassment. This can include physical harassment such as groping, non-contact forms of harassment like catcalling, and harassment through electronic messages. While the sexual harassment I experienced never left any physical scars or bruises, the criticism and judgment of my personality and sexuality chipped away at my feeling of safety and self-esteem.

The abusive behavior became my new normal.

But it took a sudden escalation for me to even realize I needed help. The texts came in at 11:34 p.m. on a Sunday while I studied in the MLC. James accused me of having sexual relations with his roommate. He explained that he had talked to the UGA police, filing a charge of simple battery against his roommate in retaliation for my “betrayal.” I denied the accusation, trying to get him to understand that his roommate and I were only friends but James refused to listen.

Instead, he went on a rant about how I broke his heart and texted the words, “I wanted to f*****g kill myself.”

He had made threats of suicide and self-harm often, but this time he took it further. He threatened to ruin my chances of having a career, to expose my private sexual history to everyone I knew, and to throw my friends in jail by reporting their drug and alcohol use to the police. After receiving those threatening texts, I spent three days locked in my dorm room. For all I knew, any friend seen with me could be his next target. Those three days gave me time to think, and I started to remember the person I used to be.

I headed down to the lobby of my residence hall and spilled the entire story for the first time to an adviser. The tears that came unexpectedly surprised me, and I was touched that the adviser took the time to listen and then drove me directly to RSVP, UGA’s Relationship and Sexual Violence Prevention center located within the University Health Center. There I told my story again, and the RSVP staff told me that I had been emotionally abused. James’s threats of suicide and self-harm were tactics used to manipulate me. His unpredictable behavior was textbook relationship abuse. The unwanted romantic advances fell under sexual harassment, and the unrelenting text messages he kept sending after I asked him to stop were a form of stalking.

The RSVP staff told me that with the text messages I saved on my phone, I could have a real case if I wanted to pursue it through the university system.

I thought this meant my battle against James would be over, but I was wrong. The process had only just begun.

Shortly after speaking with RSVP that day, I received an email telling me I had an appointment with the Equal Opportunity Office that Friday — Jan. 30. Though most UGA code of conduct violations are handled through the University Judiciary, cases like mine that have to do with Title IX are handled through a completely different system. I had presumed University Judiciary would handle my case. But searching online and through student handbooks and pamphlets, I learned that UGA’s Equal Opportunity Office handled issues like sexual harassment, sexual assault/rape, and discrimination because they fall under Title IX, the federal law that prohibits discrimination based on sex at federally funded educational institutions. I didn’t even know the EOO existed, let alone where it was.

I spent the spring semester of my freshman year writing email after email and playing phone tag with offices and departments I had only just discovered. In the midst of it all, friends and acquaintances deserted me once word of my decision to file a sexual assault complaint spread. Comments ranged from, “You need to drop it, you’re being childish” to “Someone like you who purposely seeks out bad relationships and then claims to be the victim should stop trying to feel sorry for yourself.”

I never imagined my friends would turn on me after hearing the entire story. I never thought my own parents would try to persuade me to let the case go because it was “too much trouble.” Whether or not I felt safe, schoolwork piled up, classes went on and I continued to jump through administrative hoops. No one told me how to handle this. No one ever told me that filing a sexual harassment complaint would leave me feeling frustrated, emotionally exhausted and utterly alone.

While the EOO issued a no contact order during its period of investigation, which started Feb. 13, 2015, James was not bound to that order by law. A professor suggested that I try calling the police, suggesting that a restraining order could give me some sort of safety. After all, James knew exactly where I lived. He knew where my sister and my parents lived. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find me. I initially called the Athens-Clarke County Police, who upon hearing my story, encouraged me to get a restraining order through the magistrate court. However, after realizing that I was a student, they had to ask where the harassment took place. It turns out, where and when I received these threats made a huge difference in whose jurisdiction I was under.

The ACCPD explained to me over the phone that since I received these threats over text while I was studying in the MLC, they couldn’t really help me. Going to the magistrate court for a restraining order while I wasn’t under the ACC PD’s jurisdiction would just complicate the entire process. Since I had received the threats while on campus, the officer I spoke to recommended that I report the harassment to the UGA Police. So I made another phone call, this time to the UGA Police. Initially, they seemed helpful, sending an officer to meet with me in the lobby of my residence hall immediately. The quick reaction made it feel like they were taking me seriously, like my well-being actually mattered. I felt validated, like everyone who worked to give my harasser an excuse was wrong.

I was standing up for myself. By going to the campus police, I thought, there would at least be a record even if nothing could be done. So that when another student complained of sexual harassment and feared for her safety, no one would call her a liar. No one would tell her to “chill out” and “let it go.”

She wouldn’t have to doubt herself or feel alone because I had already left a record showing that what James did was real, not some delusion like everyone seemed to say. But once I started talking to the officer I started to see a different picture. I sat on the edge of my chair and explained the situation as clearly as possible. James lived in a nearby residence hall. He was friends with my friends. He seemed to have a romantic interest in me that I did not return.

He sent me manipulative texts including one that read: “This is not blackmailing. It’s simply what I’m capable of doing and would love to do after all you and [my roommate] did to me.”

I let the officer read some of the messages. I discussed my call to ACCPD and how they mentioned getting a restraining order from the magistrate court.

But the campus police officer just shook his head and chuckled. He didn’t seem to think my situation was serious. In fact, he dismissed many of my concerns about James potentially hurting the people around me. From the officer’s demeanor, it seemed that the threats being made were just some elaborate joke, nothing I needed to be concerned about. But I was concerned. I was scared. The officer told me that he didn’t think James would go through with any of the threats, but I didn’t see how that mattered. This officer had never met James. He didn’t know that he kept a knife in his dorm room. And even once I told him these things, I felt as if the officer just considered me some hysterical girl ranting about a boy who was in love with me. The officer wrote some things on his notepad. He told me he would put them in a file if it made me feel better.

But I didn’t feel better — I felt humiliated and patronized.

Fortunately, the EOO investigation was under way. I sat down in an office with the associate director of the EOO and a counselor from RSVP with a box of tissues in front of me. I tried to follow what he said about how my situation had to have met the criteria for what UGA defined as harassment for anything to be done. In addition, I needed to find people who would vouch for me. People who had seen the way James had treated me, but more importantly, people who would be willing to speak to the EOO. While many of my friends agreed that I didn’t deserve this kind of treatment, they grew cold after hearing that I was filing a complaint. They felt like I was taking it too far.

Having to find friends who would be willing to be interviewed made me nervous, but the Amnesty for Students clause that the EOO abided by put me at ease.

The clause states: “The University encourages students to come forward and report violations of the [Non-Discrimination and Anti-Harassment Policy] NDAH Policy notwithstanding their choice to consume alcohol or to use other drugs. Information reported by a student during an investigation concerning use of drugs or alcohol will not be used against any student in a University disciplinary proceeding or voluntarily reported to law enforcement.”

While I am not a drug user nor a heavy drinker, I have had an alcoholic beverage or two underage at some point in my life. I knew that James’s roommate, who was named in the texts submitted for the investigation, smoked weed from time to time. Knowing that James couldn’t threaten to expose us to the University Judiciary in retaliation made me feel a great deal safer. I gave the associate director of the EOO every detail. I turned over the text messages that James sent me and tried to remember the exact date and time when he kept me hostage in his room. An email was then sent to James and the witnesses I felt could vouch for me. I would never have to confront James in person.

Resolving a sexual harassment case at UGA under the EOO auspices proved to be very different from the way anything else is handled in the real world. There is no court room, lawyers, representatives, jury or face-to-face confrontation. There was simply a mild mannered man in a small office who listened to both sides of the story and decided what to do. The EOO eventually sent me a letter, informing me of its decision. Based on the investigation, the office found that James “violated the NDAH Policy by committing sexual harassment.” He was placed on probation and required to “complete several educational requirements.”

The EOO ruled in my favor.

Though James is still on campus as a student, he is required to take some classes in order to correct his behavior and is not allowed to contact me. If I’ve learned anything from this ordeal, it’s that the system is complicated. It is not easy to find out where to go or who to contact. Many of us are not familiar with Title IX, and we often brush away serious complaints about sexual harassment and threats as a joke. If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that our university can do more to educate students about how to handle complicated issues like these.

We need to be taught, not to just stop walking alone at night, but how to file a complaint or where to seek help when we are wronged. Our education needs to include how to recognize attacks that are not physical in nature, and what to do when verbal or emotional attacks occur.

*James is not his real name. The name has been kept secret to protect his anonymity since the focus of my story is to let others know that they are not alone.

I’ve always been fond of simple things. While I must admit complexity has its own allure, simplicity allows a space for growth and poignancy that could otherwise be overshadowed. Are nuances and intricacies important? Of course, but nothing starts out complex. Everything comes from something. Even your name.

My name is Yazmarr. My mom- being the creative woman that she is- made it up by combining the names Yasmin and Marra. Her rationale was that since she has an interesting name (Denia) her kid had to have one too. And so it was.

As a kid I was tall, lanky, and had a baby afro; so needless to say I already stood out, but my name just added to it.

No one knew how to pronounce it or what origin it came from, so they had to ask me. All. The. Time. I couldn’t understand people’s fascination with it. It was just a name. Yet, as I got older I realized it wasn’t just a name. It was my name. No other name is brimmed with my mother’s creativity or my childhood frustration or anything else that has made up my life.

Something that came purely from my mother’s imagination now holds so much significance. So learning someone’s name is not just a simple act of memorization, it’s the first insight as to who they are. However, making that first step is often daunting. Luckily by the efforts of various organizations a new event is coming to UGA. Dawg Tag Day. On April 13, there’ll be tables with name tag and markers. The idea is that by wearing name tag that first barrier is broken down and it’s that much easier to meet someone new.

So to my future friends, coworkers, teammates while I may not know you yet, on Wednesday we’ll start with a “Hello.”

Imagine waking up every single day for the last 400+ days and having one thing ever-present in your mind. How are you going to build a business? How are you going to create something that can have a meaningful impact and support yourself and the others working for you?

At 23 years old, I wake up every day with the pressures of juggling 10 things at once, and then going to sleep having to do it all over again when I wake up.

Sometimes it feels as if there is a drill in my brain prying down as far down is it can go. The drill is me thinking and functioning to create more ideas and get more “juice” for the day or late into the night so we can execute our organization successfully. When the juice is gone, I’m exhausted. But, there is always that quenching thirst for more…

At the end of the day, sometimes it’s hard to measure whether I’m playing guesswork, succeeding, or falling flat on my face. This journey is truly a battle, one that tests you, exposes you, and tells you to quit. I’m not listening.

A Quick Recap – What have we achieved the last year?

Our team at Wish Dish has taken an idea and turned it into a website that has had 300,000+ total visitors, 400+ content submissions, and now a monthly average of 15,000 – 30,000 views. We have shared stories at 13 different colleges. We have partnered with different businesses in Athens and Atlanta. We have also built a social following of over 6,000+ combined from Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. We’ve established an incredible foundation in little over a year.

We all know WHY Wish Dish started. But HOW did it start?

In October 2014, my senior year of college, I was taking an entrepreneurship class with Chris Hanks. It was a fall day in October, and Professor Hanks was talking about going through the “dark night” meaning entrepreneurs go through a journey of ups and downs.

A classmate (stranger to me at the time), Michael Gargiulo, CEO of VPN.com, ended up raising his hand and giving an honest testimony of his struggles through the entrepreneurial journey.

It put a chill down my spine. While I didn’t know Michael I could point him out by his throwback Atlanta Hawks hat. I was working with the Hawks running a college program, so I decided to bring Michael a new Hawks shirt to let him know how much I appreciated his thoughts in class. Before I knew it, Michael and I became really good friends.

At the same time, I was also working on a blog called Influence (the infancy of the Wish Dish). The idea was to have people write something meaningful to “influence” others for the better. I shared these stories once a week on the blog. Michael then messaged me saying I should start my own website. Now that’s an idea…

After many late nights staying up messaging Michael from 10PM-2AM asking him how in the world to set up a website and finding a great friend named Aalok Patel, www.thewishdish.com was born.

Creating and Raising an Internet Baby

I remember launching Wish Dish in the basement of my house in Virginia around early January of 2015. I went through my phone, asked all my friends to share the website on social media. What I remember most from that first day was all the people asking me, “What in the world is Wish Dish?” a question that lingered for months…

I soon realized that creating a successful website was so much more than setting up a domain name and inserting a design on WordPress.

I told a bunch of people in my classes to write for the site and they kept asking, what is Wish Dish?

Wish Dish soon evolved into a place where someone could express themselves, offer their story to the world and either embrace or walk away, closing a chapter.

I told these people the same prompt over and over again, “Write something meaningful to influence others for the better. No limits, no boundaries, it’s your story so make it you.”  The open prompt and the willingness for us to hear various points of view is still a staple of our site.

It didn’t take long to realize that we were on to something. After reading the first few stories by Andrew Holleran, Chuck Blakeman, Dev Iyer, and Carden Wyckoff their posts received hundreds of likes on Facebook. They were given incredible support and feedback from their friends.

I was starting to resonate with people in such a deep way I never had before and learning things about my friends I never knew.

This was fun, we were making an impact, and building the start of something truly unique, memorable, and something that mattered

One of the Toughest Decisions of my Life

When I entered college I was on this mission to set myself apart from others due a low point in my life I won’t get into. By connecting my passion with sports early on in life with my business interests, I spent my freshman to senior years working relentlessly in the sports industry learning everything I could. If I chose a different path I would probably be working in the sports industry right now. But when I was approached to take a job up in New York, I hesitated. I knew that wasn’t my purpose.

But doubts still lingered.

Deciding Factors

I remember one conversation that was a real gut-check for me on whether I really wanted to continue with this site or to pack my bags and find what some might call a “real” job.

In the middle of February. I was leaving the gym on UGA’s campus and I called a mentor of mine named Chris Harris, CEO of Entrepreneur Hour & Lift It.

I told him, “Look Chris, I just don’t know if I can do this anymore. I should probably go to NYC and work.” His brevity was apparent, and he said, “Well, it’s your decision, do what you have to do.”

Chris built a multi-million dollar moving business bootstrapping every penny. There was a reason he was disappointed, especially after helping me for the past year and half.

Later that night I received a Facebook message from Chris basically saying to me, “Look Bryan, I can’t help you anymore if you are going to give up on your dream. Put on your armor, get tough, and be a man and continue on your journey.”

To simply put it. I had a tremendous amount of fear. I was thinking about giving up a huge job opportunity to risk it all for a vision that I had no idea would work.

Decision Time | Convincing My Parents and Saying No to NYC

I flew home to Virginia after spring break in mid-March. I had to have a serious talk with my parents about my plans post-graduation. It was not a conversation I was excited to have, but it was one that was necessary. I knew I would be facing an uphill climb.

Honestly, I felt deflated. My presentation to them was so lackluster. I was talking to my own parents, yet I was petrified the entire time. They had no idea why I wanted to pass up a great opportunity like a job in sports business. But I told them that I wanted to create something, not just view it as a hobby, but a gift I would offer up to the world and be remembered for.

Three hours later we walked away from our meeting place, both of them agreed to let me try and figure it out.

Now, I tell this story not to put down my parents (they have been the most supportive figures in my life from when I was a child. And that’s the truth), but because I believe this is a conversation that 90% of entrepreneurs face unless they were born into a family that just “gets it.” It’s just one you have to have.

A few months later, I graduated and the real world hit me hard.

My First Week of Work – (3 days after graduation)

I remember starting my first day working full-time for the site on Monday, May 18^th. I was still in Athens and all my college friends had left. I stayed behind while everyone else seemed to be embarking on the next chapters of their lives.

I will never forget the feeling of being mentally paralyzed the first few days. I had no idea what in the world to do or where to start. But I knew three things, just put my head down, start, and pray that it will all work out in the end.

But, some people help you figure it out along the way.

HW Creative Marketing & Richie Knight

Part of the process was understanding the business I was in so I tried to surround myself with resources who could help me succeed.

Richie Knight, founder of HW Creative was offering classes the spring semester of my senior year on Content Marketing and Search Engine Optimization. I started going to his classes and meeting with him for coffee to pick his brain.  After several discussions, Richie offered to help us build a professional looking site (our second site).

It was one of those pick-me-ups that come out of nowhere, that really helped accelerate our journey. This is a common story that has continued where it seems like the right people continue to walk into our journey at the right time.

A special thank you to Richie, because we wouldn’t be where we are without you today!

Influential Wish Dish Stories

While we set out to start a revolution of self-expression where people could dive into the deeper sides of their lives beyond what is seen normally in social media or everyday conversation, we didn’t realize what giving a voice would do for some of our community members. There are a few stories that really stick out in my mind and really show us we’re at the crossroads for something special.

One story to denote was by Josh Jones who wrote about overcoming his challenges with dyslexia. He had never written something like that before and it empathized with so many people. His story circulated through the entire Braves organization and now is working with the Brewers in the operations department pursuing his dream to be a General Manager.

Another really neat story came from Victoria Arnold when she submitted a piece about her rare sleeping disorder. How she could be so personal and open about such a hardship really shook me to the core.

Throughout this process people have approached me and said that I am making a difference in people’s lives. That I’m pulling back the layers we’ve used to isolate ourselves in a culture where information is available at the swipe of a tablet yet we couldn’t be further apart. They told me this mattered.

Special thank you to those who have reached out along the way. Now to the people behind the scenes, the ones in the trenches.

Forming our Team

To build something extraordinary, I believe that you need to surround yourself with phenomenal people. To begin this process I asked one of my best friends, Shelby Novak, to come on board and help set social media strategy (Shelby has been a consistent force for us to this day). Her social media presence keeps us relevant and open to the world.

The next key addition was adding our editor to the team, Matt Gillick. Matt is a Providence college graduate, and has an incredible understanding of literature, writing, and the framework of a story. He started editing all of our posts and now manages all content for the site and has brought two more editors on board. Matt has worked steadily with us since March and feels that every story we put out can have the chance of touching a person at a human level. We at the site deeply care about your words and have an editing staff who value them.

Another key piece to our team is Sam Dickinson. I asked Sam to join us in August after coming off his summer internship with Southwest Airlines. Sam serves in setting our site framework, public relations, and content strategy. When it comes to a clear vision and implementing those ideas, Sam is second to none. With Sam, we have found new and better ways to present our content.

Without an internal team working toward the same end-goal and mission, we truly wouldn’t be where we are today. It’s these people who are doing all the hard work behind the scenes that no one accounts for when looking at the platform as a whole.

The Future

From Day 1, we have set out to build a community that connects people through the sharing their story, whatever it may be. We have set out to give people a means to express themselves in their authentic voice. We have done both of these in a small way and we plan to keep doing so.

We realize that we cannot rest on our laurels. We have to keep moving forward in creating a platform that evolves with the needs of our community. We envision a community worldwide where people use Wish Dish to share specific life chapters because they know it as their place to share their story.

As long as someone has a story to tell, a song to sing, a beat to stomp to, The Wish Dish will be there to put the microphone in your hand. Express yourself and join us.

(Written by the Mackenzie Bass and Isabelle Estrin)

Hi! We are Mackenzie and Isabelle and together we make MoonaLuna, a fashion blog that encourages others to express themselves through personal style.

We have been friends since middle school, forming an instant bond with our mutual love for fashion.

Kenzie’s lifetime adventure of being a fashion-addict sparked at a very young age with creating fashion shows for her parents in their living room. While her living room fashion shows slowly came to an end, her infatuation with personal style has continuously grown throughout the years.

Her personal style would be best described as eclectic.

She enjoys incorporating many different styles into each outfit she designs and wears. She is inspired daily by artists (her sis Britt Bass, Andy Warhol, & Frida Kahlo), films/directors (Almost Famous, Wes Anderson, & Annie Hall), and people (Stevie Nicks, 90’s Drew Barrymore, & Jemima Kirke).

Isabelle’s obsession with fashion started at an early age due to an aversion to any physical activity (besides shopping). She was born and raised in Atlanta, GA and part-time in Brooklyn, NY. Her diverse family encouraged and inspired her unique sense of style and passion for expressing herself through fashion.

She likes to believe her style does not fit into just one category, and she considers herself a little bit of everything.

She draws inspiration from people (MiMi Elashiry is a current fave), places (anywhere from Paris to a coffee shop in Williamsburg) and the past (think 70’s).

MoonaLuna is the perfect combination of the two of us. We created this blog in order to have a creative outlet for ourselves in the fashion realm. Isabelle was about to move to New York and Kenzie was taking on Atlanta. We wanted to have a medium that would allow our shared love of fashion to eclipse distance while being able to showcase different perspectives of style in each city.

We also wanted to use MoonaLuna to inspire others to be creative, unique, bold, and confident through fashion. We want to encourage passion for all that you do whether it be fashion, singing, writing, etc.

We hope you follow along with us on this journey and feel inspired to be bold and fearless in all of your fashion choices. You can follow MoonaLuna on Instagram @_moonaluna and MoonaLuna.org.

(Written by Dusan Lagura)

First of all, if you don’t know my story yet, I advise you to first watch the short documentary above. I want to give credit to my good friends Shauyan Saki and Joe Winkenwerder for taking the initiative to do this documentary during probably the busiest year of their college careers. They were both in their senior year at The University of Georgia, not only were they great producers, they’re my close friends and did a phenomenal job for a subject that I don’t really like to talk about.

I also want to give credit to The University of Georgia, an unbelievable academic institution. Furthermore, I want to give credit to the entire University of Georgia Academic Faculty, maybe more specifically to my professors and, of course, the UGA Athletic Training Staff. Finally, I want to give credit to my Dawg Coach Mark Fox and his amazing staff for giving an opportunity to a kid from Switzerland to live his dream and be part of an amazing basketball program.

Also a big Thank You to all my teammates and friends who supported me throughout my rehab process because it sure wasn’t easy and many times I wanted to quit.

I could write a book about what I have experienced and what I would like to say to the entire Wish Dish Community. However I will keep it short and like we say in Switzerland, quality over quantity.

Long story short, in May 2012, I graduated from Furtah Preparatory High School in Woodstock, GA. A few months later, you could find me in the Swiss Armed Forces on duty.

In Switzerland, military service is mandatory. I personally chose to do my military commitment after High School rather than after college because I just wanted to be done with it and move on to the next chapter of my life at The University of Georgia. During the 6^th month of service, I got a call from my mother that my only cousin Zeljko Langura had comitted suicide. He was a soldier in the Serbian Military.

2 months later, on a very hot day, I was injured while I was on duty at an undisclosed location. (Due to security and confidential reasons I cannot disclose where).

I had so many injuries and so many terrible memories building up. I can’t even remember all of them on top of my head including but not limited to severe skull fractures, torn ACL, PCL, Meniscus, name it…

The doctors told me that I should call it a career…I told myself:

“What career is he talking about, I haven’t done shit.”

Shortly after my injury, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I would still be welcome on UGA’s Basketball Team or if I should stop my basketball dream and just be a regular student.

After talking to the UGA Basketball Staff and explaining my situation, they still honored their commitment and welcomed me to the team. However, what should have been the most exciting summer of my life (Yes, the summer before my freshman year of college) turned out to be my worst nightmare

I was supposed to start my first college basketball workouts right off the bat but instead I was out of shape, injured, limping around, not playing basketball, struggling with classes and getting lost through campus.

To make things worse, my injury story got out on national media. Everywhere on Twitter and Facebook people would send me nice messages of support.

Some national media outlets wanted to do a documentary on my story however I kindly refused simply because it had nothing to do with basketball. Although, my story is inspiring, soldiers never get the credit they deserve and I told Coach Fox our basketball team is bigger than a story.

During my freshman year, with the help of the UGA Athletic Trainers and God, I was working toward slowly coming back to basketball although a couple times I couldn’t see the end of the tunnel. I watched every practice on the sideline; I was wearing a suit and sitting on the bench at every home game, powerless.

While the team was traveling on road games, I would just go to class, rehab, lift and watch my team play in a local restaurant in Athens on TV.

During those tough times, I discovered the two most important words in my vocabulary today, persistence and resilience. Persistence is the quality that allows someone to continue doing something even though it is difficult and resilience is the ability to become strong after something bad happens.

I continued rehab for 14 straight months.

While my team was traveling and playing on the road, I would go into our practice gym in Stegman Coliseum with my friend Fariz (arguably one of the biggest UGA basketball fans). He would time me on sprints or rebound the ball for me. It didn’t feel the same but it didn’t matter anymore because I knew that both persistence and resilience were here to push me through.

I found joy in trying and I was content with my effort although I might not have been happy with the results. It was frustrating at times, thankfully one of my best friends who also grew up in Cherokee County and ironically happened to wear the same #20 as me but on the Football Team. His name is Quincy Mauger and he would tell me to keep going and that tough things never last and that there is always sunshine after the rain.

Thanks to Quincy and my teammate Nemi Djurisic who are like my brothers, pushed me the most throughout the process.

I always found some motivation and a sense to not give up.

During my 2^nd semester of my freshman year, I happened to meet a guy named Shauyan Saki, sports expert, who shared an international affairs class with me. With Shauyan we would talk about everything ranging from sports cars, sports to politics and business.

Shauyan and me had a lot in common and although he had a busy schedule building his business and covering sports around the area, he one day asked me if he should take in charge and tell the story the way it had to be told without having the usual big time media outlets involved.

Once I got back on campus for my sophomore year of college, I was fully healthy, but most importantly happier than ever. I started writing and here I am today. I hope you all enjoyed learning my story.