If you know me, you know I’m a hugger.

I love giving hugs and getting hugs. And I don’t mean those little one-armed side hugs. I mean the kind where you wrap both arms around someone and hug them with your whole heart. Those are the best.

Of course, not everyone loves hugs as much as I do, and that’s okay. I’ve always tried to read the situation and respect what people are comfortable with. But I’ve also always believed that a genuine hug can communicate love, support, comfort, and acceptance without saying a single word.

That’s one of the reasons I was drawn to Free Mom Hugs.

About five years ago, I discovered this organization made up of moms, dads, aunts, uncles, and allies who show up at Pride events and other celebrations to offer support, encouragement, and, yes, free hugs to members of the LGBTQIA+ community.

Their mission is simple but powerful: to empower the world to celebrate the LGBTQIA+ community through visibility, education, and conversation.

I’m not exactly sure what first led me to learn more about the organization. Maybe it’s because, as a family, we’ve always taught our children that they can be whoever they want to be and that we will love them unconditionally. We have friends and family members who are gay, bisexual, lesbian, queer, and transgender. I simply wanted them—and others—to know that they are loved, accepted, and supported.

Every June 1, I hang our Pride flag. I put the “Everyone Is Welcome Here” sign on our front door and display our “In This House We Believe…” sign. It’s not performative. It’s what we genuinely believe. We want people to know our home is a safe space and that we are a safe space.

For years, I hoped my schedule would align with a Free Mom Hugs volunteer opportunity. Yesterday, it finally did.

Not only did I volunteer at my first Free Mom Hugs booth, but I also attended my first Pride event.

Loudoun Pride was held on June 6, and it was amazing.

I arrived a little before my volunteer shift and met Roni, who welcomed me and explained what we would be doing. She then introduced me to Cheryl and her husband Larry, who were leading the event. I immediately connected with Cheryl and loved learning from her throughout the day.

Then the hugging began.

We welcomed people to our booth and offered hugs, high-fives, or fist bumps—whatever made them comfortable. We also had plenty of Pride swag: mini flags, bracelets, beads, buttons, and rainbow ducks.

The rainbow ducks were special. They weren’t simply handed out. To receive one, visitors had to write down a wish and place it in a wish bowl.

Throughout the afternoon, people stopped by our booth. Some wanted hugs. Others preferred a high-five or fist bump. It was warm outside, and several people apologized for being sweaty. None of us cared.

We hugged anyone who wanted one.

And these weren’t quick, one-armed hugs.

I hugged people the way I would hug my own children, my siblings, or my closest friends. I asked how they were doing. I listened. I welcomed them to look around the booth.

One young man came over and immediately asked for a hug. He told us his family lives far away and that he doesn’t get many good mom hugs these days.

Another young woman hugged each of us. When she got to me, she wrapped her arms around me and began to cry. I held her a little longer, told her she was loved, and reminded her that she was welcome there.

That moment stayed with me.

It reminded me that sometimes people don’t need advice. They don’t need solutions. They don’t even need words.

Sometimes they just need to know that someone sees them.

Sometimes they just need a hug.

Those two-plus hours at the Free Mom Hugs booth were filled with joy, love, acceptance, learning, and connection. I met wonderful people, made new friends, and witnessed countless small moments of kindness.

When I left, I realized that I had probably received as much as I had given.

This experience reminded me that creating a welcoming world doesn’t always require grand gestures. Sometimes it starts with showing up, opening your heart, and letting someone know they belong.

I’m grateful that this became #17 on my 50 by 50 journey.

And I already can’t wait to do it again.