Why the World Needed My Story (And Why I Told It Myself)

In a world drowning in spin—fake outrage, clickbait headlines, endless “us vs. them”—sometimes the quietest thing hits hardest.

That’s why I wrote this.

January 20, 2025. Inauguration Day. I flew to Florida, hopped Amtrak north, froze 13 hours outside Capital One Arena in DC windchill—just a tarp, a blanket, one hour of sleep. Then the hush. The pause. And I shouted:

“We love you, Mr. President!”

He turned. Pointed. Smiled—the real one. Melania waved. Twenty thousand inside heard it. Millions saw it on TV in America. Millions more caught the global feeds—Europe, Asia, Australia. I had no idea. I was just… a shy kid from Mound, Minnesota, Westonka High ’10, who believed the country still had a heart.

No script. No donor. No agenda.

The media skipped it. Too wholesome. No villain. But I didn’t. I sent six letters. White House verified me—twice. Escalated to the Oval. Sent replies—one mid-shutdown (when nothing moved), one hand-signed from the Resolute Desk, November 20, 2025. Archived forever in the National Archives, next to the Constitution. First civilian voice ever.

I didn’t wait for someone else to tell it. No one would. So I built weloveyoumrpresident.com—myself. No ads. No influencers. Just proof.

Now? Over 30 countries—Israel, France, Japan, Australia, Brazil. Nearly 2,000 views. Strangers in cafés halfway around the world reading about Mound like it’s sacred. Because they see it: this isn’t politics. It’s civics. A real citizen voice reaching the president—seen by millions worldwide—and coming back with love.

We have differences. We always will. But we don’t need more hate. We need more pauses. More “we love you” before the noise wins.

Show love—even when they disagree. Even when they hate. One voice at a time. That’s how you change the world.

I froze. I cried. I shouted. And America loved me back.

Your turn.

Open your mouth.

The world is listening.