How To Be

I was initially going to entitle this “How To Be Okay” but then I realized that when it comes down to it, on the days when I can’t even pull off being okay, all I can do is just be. 

Not to be dramatic, or pessimistic, but none of us ever got a choice regarding our existence - our being. We were all born, and from then on, we would all be. We would be until we ceased to live, at which point, we would be no more.

The only part over which we have any control is when we will be no more. As many of you know, I struggle with depression. I have struggled with suicidal ideations in the past, and in those moments, I had three things that kept me alive:

- Fear that it would hurt to die

- Curiosity as to why God still chose to keep me alive

- Sheer stubbornness.

The only way we can continue to be in those moments when we question our worth, and we question whether it is worth it to keep on going, is to never give up. Just keep going. Just be. (Someone should put that on a T-shirt... I might put that on a T-shirt.) Don’t let anyone take that away from you. No negative comments. No horrible trauma. No huge life mistake. Not even you! You were out here on this earth to be. To be you. To be here. Your life is a unique opportunity, given to no one but you. 

************

I have done years of therapy, for various reasons, and one thing that I have gained overall is a better understanding of myself. I now know what I need in order to keep on keeping on, and to not resent my being here without any choice in the matter. My therapist called it a self care tool kit. It started off as a physical thing. A box. I was told to put things in it that make me happy, make me feel safe, and help me get physically grounded when my anxiety is removing my grip on reality. I was told to fill it with notes from friends. Write down things that people have said about me that made me feel uplifted and confident. Compliments. A list of things that I like about myself. That I am good at. Pictures of people who make my heart smile. Pictures of my cats.

I eventually got more personal with it, and I expanded my tool kit from being just a box, to having little things in all the places that I frequent. I like to feed the ducks, so I keep bird seed in my car. I also like bird watching, so I have binoculars in my car, too. I keep a rain jacket, and a pair of boots in my trunk, so that I can go for a walk in the rain, if I suddenly feel the need to get outside. I carry bubbles in my daughter's diaper bag - for both of us - I find they can help stave off her tantrums, and I enjoy blowing them out the car window when I am stuck in traffic. It makes the other drivers smile :)   I also have Joy Jars - one for every year since 2016.  I write down the little moments of joy that I experience, and I write them on sticky notes that go in the jars.  I also write these things down in my phone, so that I can take them with me wherever I go.

Sometimes there are days when none of that stuff helps.  All the positive self talk in the world won't change how I feel in those moments.  So, I wait.  I acknowledge my feelings as they come, and I allow myself to fully experience them.  I don't deny them.  I allow them to happen, and when I do, they can run their course more quickly - unhindered - so that I can get back to being "me" sooner.

When your arsenal of tools doesn’t cut it, and when all of your best efforts to feel okay fall flat, just know that it is okay. Just. Be. When we were born, all that was required of each of us was that we just be. When we have those moments when we are stripped down to the emotional strength of infants, we need to be kind to ourselves, and allow ourselves to just be. Free of judgment. Free of expectation. It will only be temporary, but don’t put pressure on yourself in those moments. In order for you to get anywhere in life, you need to start at the very beginning. At the very foundation of your life. Build out from there. Storms will come. Maybe the walls will get torn down, and you may find yourself back at the foundation again. Back at square one. That’s okay. Your foundation is still there.  YOU are still there.

All that is required of you to be on this planet as a living human being is to just be. Everything else that follows after that is just extra. Your value is not in who you are after all of your accomplishments. Your value is simply in the fact that you are. This is why we celebrate when a baby is born. Has that baby done anything? No. We celebrate the very fact that they exist. You are here. You were born. That value will never go away. 

I cannot end this post without mentioning Shakespeare.  Honestly, who of you read this title, "How To Be" and didn't automatically think of it?  Shakespeare asks, through Hamlet's soliloquy, a famous question - "To be or not to be?" He states that this is the question.  He goes on to contemplate the trials of life, and whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer them all, or to brave the unknown of what comes on the other side of this life.  I have faith that on the other side of this Earthly life, I will go to an eternal life, where many good things await me.  Even still, as much as I may yearn for all my tears to be wiped away, and all my burdens lifted, I do not take lightly this life which I have been given.  I choose to honour God's choice to keep me here, and until my last day comes, I choose to do His will.  I choose to be.

Thanks for "listening"

This Feels Good

Lately, things in life have been ... a lot.  Between the busyness of being a mom, and all the programs starting up again for the fall, things have been a bit chaotic.  I tend to bite off more than I can chew.  I've recently taken on a leadership role in a Mommy & Me group.  Last year, I was a new mom attending this group, rarely getting to group on time, not attending every week, and usually barely having enough energy to get myself to group, let alone shower and do my hair and makeup before going.  Now, I have to go every week, I have to be early, not just on time, and I have to do a lot of prep work during the week to make sure that things go smoothly.  I'm not complaining.  I love being in this role.  I love having a creative outlet for all of my crafty ideas.  I love supporting other moms in my community.  It is just a lot some days.  When things get heavy in my personal life, and in the lives of those close to me, it takes purposeful energy to keep showing up, and to keep ahead of all the prep that goes into a group like this.

Group was today.  I have been preparing for today's craft intermittently for the past two months.  Last night, I was up until 1:30am, at which point my brain was well past its full capacity to concentrate.  I went to bed with the full intention of finishing my work before leaving for my group.  Morning came around, and I had a friend call me right as I was about to get up to get ready.  It was not the kind of phone call I could just brush off.  Her situation is one of those ones that is heavy.  My heart was feeling weighed down.  I still had prep work to do.  My daughter was feeling especially independent, and got into some of my craft supplies, which ended up all over my bedroom, and living room.  I finally collected myself, brushed my teeth, threw on a hat, some deodorant, and a splash of makeup, and put all of the crafts supplies in a big bag.  I gathered up my daughter, our bags, and loaded up the vehicle. We got to group just on time, and I started setting up.  About 20 minutes before group started, I realized I had completely forgotten to bring half of the supplies needed for the craft.  I had to leave my daughter with one of the other leaders, go back home and get my supplies, and come back to introduce the craft, and teach everyone how to do it.  It ended up going well, but it sure felt like a lot of effort to make it happen.

Now, I am at home, dinner has been eaten, the kitchen has been (relatively) cleaned up, and my daughter is in bed.  I am now doing something I have not done in a very long time.  I am sitting with my laptop, writing, while comfortably laying in my bed.  Now that all the craziness of the week is behind me (in theory) I feel the need to sit down and process some things, and to reflect.  Writing is a great form of self care for me, and I wish I had more time to do it. 

This feels good. 

For Abby

*** I can't help but think of the title of this blog – Day to Day Musings of A Restless Mind. My mind has been very restless lately, with thoughts coming and going like cars on a highway interchange in LA. ***

Whenever I lose someone I love, I do a lot of mental processing. I may not say much outwardly, but inside, the wheels are turning. I'm sure I get this serious look on my face when it happens. I see myself speaking at their funeral. I imagine all the things I would say about that person if I was asked to speak. I am not big on public speaking, but this never really freaked me out, because I didn't think I would ever be asked to speak. Surely, someone else would be better suited for that job than I would be. Not this time. Today, (and I say “today” very loosely, as I have not yet gone to bed, although it is past midnight, and these events technically transpired yesterday.) … Today, I gave a tribute to my friend Abby at her memorial. It was very difficult, but it was also a great honour.

I realized what that honour represented. It represented the depth of relationship that I had with Abby. That is what the real honour was, here. It has the honour of knowing her, and sharing life with her.

As I already mentioned, I do a lot of mental processing after a great loss like this. That being said, I apologize if my thoughts seem entirely scattered, or even nonsensical. I suppose that is a normal part of grieving. My mind is being confronted with the truth of this loss, and it is trying to piece together all of the memories we shared, and how those memories are all I have of her, now. No person is simple enough that processing their death is a quick and easy thing, if you knew them well. People are all multifaceted. They are complex. Of course, my relationship with Abby is unique, as it is seen from my personal perspective. Only I know what it was like for me to know her. There are others who loved her and knew her as well, but they all had unique experiences with her, as well. 

Warning: Tangent Ahead!

Thinking about all of the people who knew Abby in similar circles as me, it makes me think of a Venn Diagram. Each person makes up their own part of their circle, where they intersect with another person is their personal relationship, and where they all intersect in the middle represents the commonality of their collective experiences. Abby and I were in choir together. Singing together was something that we shared, and something which I found very special. At her service today, there was singing. Our friend Anna Grace was sitting in the row in front of me. She asked me to come stand by her so that we could sing together. Anna Grace was also in choir with Abby, and we all sang alto together. I stood beside her, we sang, and as we did, I could hear her voice as it formed different harmonies. It was beautiful. It reminded me of Abby. I know that I have a unique and personal relationship with Anna Grace, as well, but I think it is only natural that we both want to be near each other right now, as it helps us connect to what is now a missing part of that Venn Diagram. When we sang together in the past, Abby was almost always singing with us. Now, when we sing together, it will always remind us of her. It hurts just a little bit, but in a beautiful, bitter sweet kind of way.

(End Tangent.)

Later in the day, after the service was over, and I had gone home, I was reminded of something. Years ago, I asked family and friends to write letters to me for my birthday, and to specifically tell me why they loved me. I needed to hear it, and it was a bold thing to ask. I also asked that they all provide me with their addresses, so that I may write a letter to each of them telling them why I loved them. As I started thinking about the people who said that they would do this, I thought of more and more people in my life. I started to write down names of people who were not a part of my birthday project. I wrote 50 letters in the span of a few weeks, and then 20 more 2 years later as new people entered my life.

This week I spent a lot of time thinking about what I would write for Abby's tribute, and I found myself thinking of all of her little quirks, all the things that made her unique, the little things that made her uniquely Abby, and made me smile at the thought of her. I started to wonder what little things about me would be shared at my funeral some day. I don't mean for that to sound morbid at all. It is more of a curiosity, wondering what memories will stick with people, and what are the things that make me uniquely me. I'm not about to ask anyone to write tributes to me, but what I am going to do is write tributes to some of the key people in my life. I am going to write about how we met, what stood out to me about them, and various little stories that have always stuck with me about them. I may do this just for myself. I may share them with people. I'm not sure yet. All I know is that what they say is true – you don't really know what you have until it is gone. I don't want to take for granted the people in my life. After Abby died, I was so very shocked. I didn't ever think about the possibility that she could die. It had never crossed my mind, and then suddenly, it happened. As I held my 10 month old daughter in my arms later that day, I felt a bit of fear come over me. I suddenly thought that if Abby could die, anyone could die. My baby, my husband, my life-long best friend, my parents, my brother. Nobody was safe. The truth is, nobody has ever been safe. We will all die someday. But here's the thing - I don't want to live in fear of death. I want to appreciate the life that is all around me, while I am still here to do so. I hope this inspires you to do the same.

Much love, 

K

Step One: Breakdown

I haven't posted on here in quite a while, and that is because I have been going a bit crazy with life. A lot has changed for me since I posted in October:
- My job ended
- I got pregnant
- I got really sick while being pregnant
- I applied for school, got accepted, and was told by multiple people who don't know me very well, that I probably can't handle school, so I should drop out before I even start.
- I have had issues with my pregnancy that have led to me having lots of extra appointments on my schedule every week.

- I have started school (and done very well so far, I might add.)
- I have lost a beloved family member.- I have gotten in a car accident and spent time in the hospital trying to see if my baby is okay – baby is good, but Momma is stressed and very sore.

- I have had to figure out how my husband and I are going to make this whole parenting thing work. (We now need to replace TWO vehicles, we have contemplated going from renting our two bedroom apartment to buying a townhouse, we still have to buy basically everything the baby is going to need other than the few diapers and outfits we have gotten so far.)
It has been a lot to deal with. I try to distract myself daily with all of the little things, but every once in a while, like now, it all culminates into a big old mountain of impossibility. These are usually the times that I revert to writing.

A few days ago I told my husband that an emotional breakdown was on its way for me. I said that it could happen tonight, or next week, but it is coming. I was right. It happened today. Yesterday we looked at houses AND cars, and made zero headway on either. I have been physically sick and sore (not able to keep food down, incredibly tired, massive headaches with an inability to concentrate enough to study, and very sore and uncomfortable with the combination of being pregnant and just having been in a car accident.) I have been less able to concentrate on my schoolwork this week due to stress and physical pain. I still run It Takes A Village, and part of my weekend has been spent shopping for hampers (physically painful and draining) and putting errands, rest, and studying on hold to make sure we are home when families come to pick up hampers. I love doing this, but I find it hard to find the same amount of joy in it when I am overwhelmed with all the other things I feel like I should be doing.

The breakdown came this evening after I had woke up from a nap. I went to the table to start to study, and my husband sat down with the lap top and started to look for a vehicle. He was obviously stressed and was not able to find anything, so he got up and went into the other room to clear his head from being frustrated. Feeling like we would never find a suitable car, I decided to stop studying and look for a car myself.   I ended up just as frustrated as he was, and I was on the verge of tears. This is when I told my husband that I didn't want to move. It just isn't the right time for us. No matter how much someone else might think that we can't make it work in our “tiny” apartment (it's not tiny - it's a 2 bed, 2 bath) it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of how we operate our lives. We are not harming anyone, and we are living within our means. I don't see how that is anything to sneeze at, especially given the circumstances we have had to endure with my health issues, and our subsequent single income.

I realize that this is not a happy post, but that is just it. I'm not happy. I am overwhelmed, overloaded and feel like I am being pressured to be more and do more than is possible. I have had anxiety as long as I can remember, and no matter how much I KNOW that what someone else thinks of me is of zero consequence, I still can't help but feel judged. Believe it or not, as I write this, I am feeling happier and freer than I was feeling earlier today. Earlier, I felt pressured to live up to someone else's standards for my life. I sat down with my husband and told him how I felt, and we decided together that we are going to do things at our own pace and in a way that works best for US. After all, all these people who have opinions on how we should live our lives, they don't have to walk in our shoes every day. I have said this in the past, and it remains true today: I would rather live within my means (and be “poor” in the eyes of some people) and be happy, than have all of the material things this world has to offer (rich in the eyes of the world) and be stressed out and miserable all the time.

I don't really know how to end this, but there you have it, folks. We are going to live according to what we think is best for us, and anyone who has an issue with that... they can just go on and talk about us behind our backs. We don't care.

Thanks for “listening.”

For your listening pleasure: Breakdown by Jack Johnson

With God at the center, love always wins

I have a few things on my mind right now, and as I think more about them collectively, I realize that they have one thing in common, and that is my Christian faith.

The first thing is the Canadian Federal Election. I won't get into any details on the drama behind it, who I voted for, or any of that. I will tell you what I was thinking about as I decided who to vote for: It Doesn't Matter! In my heart of hearts, I know that bad things are going to befall us as a human race before the end of time. Whether that be in my lifetime or another, is not for me to know, nor is it something about which I choose to worry. Worry is absolutely wasteful. I choose to live my life as if God is in control of the ultimate outcome, because I believe this to be true. Whether that outcome be that I get to live a peaceful existence or one filled with strife is besides the point, because I firmly believe that my tiny little life is just one piece of the puzzle that is the history of mankind.

Moving on.

The next thing is my work. I have recently been told that my work situation is going to change. Soon. I will be getting less hours at work, and it has little to do with my performance and everything to do with politics. To put it plainly, this sucks. I am not mad about it. Rather, I am just sad. I have been slowly coming back from a head injury that I sustained just over three years ago that has left me with some, let's call them lingering symptoms. That's putting it nicely, though. I struggled through a year of work after my injury, wherein I was single and had to support myself, thus I kept working when I should have been home resting. After my body could not handle working anymore, I was off work for over two years. I have only started volunteering a few months ago. The one volunteer position led to a paid position which I have grown to love. I love the people. I love the responsibility. I love the challenge. I love working again, finally. I love feeling like I am legitimately contributing to the life that my husband and I are building together. And now, it is being taken away from me. It hurts. You may be wondering how this has to do with my faith. The answer is that I am relying on God to get me through this emotionally. I am relying on him to help me live and act graciously toward others when I am upset, rather than lashing out, or clamming up. It's a big deal for me, being able to appropriately deal with my emotions. I used to go for a run or go to the gym and lift a LOT of weight to “deal” with my emotions. Now, if I do that my head hurts. Being unable to physically work through my emotions has forced me to grow up and learn to just sit with them, get to know them, and figure them out rather than being afraid of them. 

Lastly, I have been told multiple times this month that I should not spend my money or my time helping other people. I think it is fine that someone might think that I am going to wear myself thin, but I assure you, I am not. You know how they say that the way you can tell if you are an introvert or an extrovert is whether you feel drained or energized after being around a bunch of people? Well, I am a functional introvert. I have learned to live with the fact that I will have to deal with people in this life. It is unavoidable. They're everywhere. So, I take my quiet time before I have to be around people, I see people, then I take even more quiet time after. I make it work. But you see, us introverts, we are not just people who walk around this world feeling drained by everything and everyone. It's not like that. I am actually a very passionate person. Oddly enough, as an introvert, I am still passionate about people. I just prefer them in smaller settings. What I'm trying to say is that iving of my time to help others, and taking a portion of my money and throwing it into things like It Takes A Village or the Youth Clinic or the Food Bank, those things are what give me energy, life and joy. People can tell me to stop all the want, but I'm not going to listen.

Thanks for “listening”

If I could change one thing ...

Hello world!  

How are you doing today?  I am doing ... alright.  I just got back from playing lazer tag with my husband and our friends.  We are celebrating our first wedding anniversary tomorrow (that makes me feel like a legitimate adult, now) and we decided to do an annual lazer tag game and dinner, to repeat what we did for our bachelor and bachelorette parties.  Girls against guys, we have the whole place to ourselves, no holds barred.  I straightened my hair this morning, which was silly because by the end of the game I had so much sweat on me that not only was my hair wet and wavy, but my face had an all over sheen to it.  Nice.  Thankfully, I brought a change of clothes.

I know I haven't written anything in a while, and that is because of a few things. Namely, I have been busy with It Takes A Village.  That is a thing I started to help people in the community who need food and clothing to support their families.  I started multiple fund raisers and received donations of clothing, food and pop bottles that got returned for money, which was used to buy food hampers.  All in all, it was about a month's worth of work on a nearly daily basis.  It ended yesterday with me and my friend Victoria delivering the food hampers to four families, JUST in time for my husband and me to wind down and relax for our anniversary. 

After I came home from doing the deliveries, I did some writing.  The following is what I wrote:

"As a teenage girl, I remember being asked at youth group, "What is your favourite part of your body?" It was my youth pastor's wife who asked this, trying to inspire self worth in us girls.  As life went on, the question shifted from being asked by a leader, to being asked by peers and self.  The question itself also changed:

"If you could change anything about your body, what would it be?"

The question turned from being self affirming to being self critical. The answers for teenage girls would would range from the hair on their heads to the size of their feet. All of it had to do with being unfit for the mould into which our western society has tried to cram us. Don't worry, this isn't going to be a post about the female body and how we ought to appreciate it in all of its glory, although that is true. What I want to tell you about is the part of my body I would change if I could. 

I would change my tongue. 

"Your tongue? Really? Why?" You ask. 

Well let me tell you:

The tongue is a very talented muscle. It allows us to experience the world through taste. It allows us to speak and to sing. We use it when we kiss (the good kind of kissing, anyway!) the tongue is a multi-tool, conveniently located on every model of homosapien. (Don't even get me started on the tongues of Canis Familiaris and Felis Familiaris)

"If your tongue is so capable, then why would you change it?" You ask.

Well let me tell you:

Although I have a fairly diverse palette, I would like it to be better. I would like to be able to eat an unfamiliar dish and pick it apart entirely down to every last ingredient. That would be cool. I can do this with simpler dishes, but I would like to be able to recognize every flavour. Not only that, but I would like to be able to tolerate what are currently unpleasant flavours. I gag at even just the smell of seafood, let alone the taste of it, yet it is so good for me. I would like to be able to handle bitter things like a straight up kale smoothie. I would also like to be able to be more adventurous in my food ventures when I travel. 

As for the speech and singing, I will start with the singing because it is quicker. I would like to be able to sing a bit better, have better control. I would say I want to be able to hit lower and higher notes, but that has to do with my vocal chords and my lung capacity. Oh yes, and on that note (pun intended) I would like to be able to whistle. I can't do it to save my life. That will actually probably be how I go out: "Listen lady. Either you whistle or you die. That's it!"

Speech: Although this wasn't my initial thought about why I would change my tongue, it is something about which I have often thought. I have loved languages ever since I started kindergarten and I learned how to count to 1000 in both English and French. Although I "know" five languages, I am fluent in none of them, not even English. There is always more to learn. How amazing would it be to be fluent in all languages and to be able to speak any language in the world? Or to imitate the sound of any animal? Okay, those of you with a little less Dr. Doolittle in you than I have, that last part may not apply. But really, it would be truly amazing to be able to communicate with anyone in their native tongue. 

There is the word again. Tongue. In the book of James in the Bible, the writer likens the tongue to the rudder of a ship. Our words can steer us in one direction or the other. Love or hate. Intolerance or acceptance. Bluntness or tact. Violence or peace. Harshness or edification. Expletives or forbearance. Lies or the truth. I, for one, would love to be able to "hold my tongue" and practice forbearance. Just yesterday at the dentist I was shocked (by the sharp pain that went shooting through my mouth after the dentist applied the air to test which tooth was in pain) and I swore. Twice. I immediately apologized and the dentist jokingly said that she is going to charge me $1.50 per swear word next time! (Didn't it used to be a quarter for the swear jar?  Inflation sure is getting the better of us, sometimes.)  Although swearing twice when in shocking pain may seem like a minor thing, it is something of which I am not proud. I used to never swear, and then it became a gradual thing, and in certain social situations, the expletives would come flying out. It was like a cultural thing. It made a story more colourful and showed emotion. The thing is, when I was a young teenager, I held this opinion: People who swear are exhibiting a lack if intelligence by putting on display their limited vocabulary. Surely they could replace the "f" word (and others) with about a hundred other words considering all the ways in which they use it.

So that's my thing. When it comes to speech, I still need to hold tight reins on my tongue. Years ago, I was known for being blunt and opinionated. As a young, intelligent woman, I apparently liked the sound of my own voice. I didn't like not engaging in group discussions. I was told by a youth pastor once that I intimidated the other kids because I always had so many valid things to say. Even though he liked the things I had to say, he wanted other kids to speak up as well. From then on, I would try to refrain from putting up my hand at youth group or in class unless I was called on specifically. From there, I learned another lesson. I have been through a lot in my life and it has toughened me up. Although this now gives me more compassion for people, I used to not quite understand that pain and suffering are relative to the world in which each person lives. Hard is hard. I didn't get that. I would come across as rude, harsh and cutting without even realizing it. I came to my senses one day at work when I was told by a coworker that I had made another coworker cry. Now, I try to be considerate of other people's circumstances and their feelings, although they may differ from my own. When I do screw up and hurt someone with my words, I get pretty hard on myself because the last thing I want to do is cause anyone pain. 

And without any segue, I come to the point for which I am sure you have all been waiting. The final point! The reason for which I initially wanted to change my tongue. I have recently started eating a lot of seeds. Therefore, the reason that made me realize that I would change my tongue if I could: In its current form, it allows me to pick most things out of my teeth. However, I still find myself reaching for my toothbrush or a toothpick after eating seeds and other foods. That is why I would change my tongue. That, and the fact that were I to change the colour of my hair, my skin or my eyes, were I to be stronger or less fat, were I to be taller or shorter, were I to be more flexible, it would not come even close to giving me all of the skills and characteristics that a perfectly functioning tongue could give me."

One more thing I will add: I have gotten notifications on my Facebook page for this blog and it tells me that I have all of these new views.  It doesn't tell me who is doing the viewing, though, and it makes me so curious!  When I signed in to post this, my data showed me that I had 62 page views on March 30th.

So, here is my question, world:

Was it your?  Have you been reading my posts?  I would love for you to leave a comment to let me know what you think, or even just to say "Hi."  Let's keep the conversation going!  Agree with me, disagree with me, tell me what it made you think or feel!

Anyway, thanks for "listening."  That's all for now.

- K

#NotAllMen but, #YesAllWomen

I have said it before – I don't like hashtags. I would say it again, but they are starting to grow on me. Not in the “#Ilovemy #fiance who #tookmefordinner in #whiterock where we #watchedthesunset #lovehim #thisislove #love #lucky #fiance #whiterock #dinner #romantic” kind of way, because that is just bad grammar and it bugs me … but I like them in the sense that, when used properly, they allow certain issues (like #ItGetsBetter) to draw the attention they deserve.

The newest hashtag that I have come across that I deem worth following is the #YesAllWomen one. It stems off the #NotAllMen one.

My understanding, from what I've been able to find on these hashtags, is that someone posted something saying that #NotAllMen are molesters, sexual predetors, abusers, misogynists etc. The rebuttal, or response, was that even though #NotAllMen are like that, #YesAllWomen have to deal with the ones who ARE like that.

For example, a friend of mine, ShantiniKlaassen wrote in her blog a list of reasons why #YesAllWomen have to deal with these issues, and it was solely based upon her own experiences. At first I felt as though I could write my own list and that it would be difficult, emotionally, to do so because it would bring up past hurt and resentment.

I've decided to face it and write my list anyway. The fact that I felt ashamed of my list is a reason why I should write it at all. I shouldn't be ashamed of being a woman, nor should I be ashamed of the things which I have had to endure for being a woman.

#YesAllWomen Because when I was little I wanted to be just like my big brother and when I started to act like him and dress like him, I got made fun of.

#YesAllWomen Because I have constantly been referred to as a “tomboy” for dressing in comfortable or athletic clothing.

#YesAllWomen Because in grade six, I bought my first pair of “girly” pants and got ogled by every boy in my class.

#YesAllWomen Because when I was only 13 years old I got sexually and physically abused by my neighbour almost every day for over a year.

#YesAllWomen Because nobody knew what I was going through because I was afraid of what might happen if they found out.

#YesAllWomen Because I still feel like a statistic when anyone finds out about the abuse I endured.  The stigma is unavoidable.

#YesAllWomen Because when the sexual abuse started, I stopped wearing “girly” clothes because I didn't want anyone to see my body and think it was okay to touch it because they liked how it looked.

#YesAllWomen Because I started dating behind my parents' backs before I was supposed to because I needed to prove to myself that #NotAllMen are like “him.”

#YesAllWomen Because when I was 16 years old, I was crying in my bed, talking to my mother and I told her my theory - “All men are pigs until proven otherwise” and she told me that this was no way to think. I understand how that seems bad on my part because #NotAllMen are pigs... but I was going on the assumption that the world was an unsafe place for me as a female and I needed to be wary of men as a whole until each one proved to me to be trustworthy.

#YesAllWomen Because from the time I was 16 until I was in my mid twenties, I rarely went longer than a few months being single because I found it hard to be okay with who I was (and who the world saw me to be) without having a man at my side.

#YesAllWomen Because when I lost my virginity at age 19, it was not by choice.

#YesAllWomen Because when the rapist I was dating broke up with me, he said that he never loved me and was using me for sex and to clean his house and do his laundry.

#YesAllWomen Because I did all of those things so that he wouldn't leave me.

#YesAllWomen Because I feel like I can't play sports with a group of guys without my husband playing alongside me. Like I need “permission” to be there.

#YesAllWomen Because when I went to say hello to a guy at my church a few years ago, he followed it up with a Facebook message telling me not to give the wrong impression to guys, and then gave me a list of suitable females to befriend.

#YesAllWomen Because when I had my first job my boss made my female coworker and I scrub the floors so he could stare at our asses.

#YesAllWomen Because in high school I did a strongman competition in the women's open class (women of every size and weight) while the guys got to be distributed into 4 weight classes, making the competition more fair. I ended up doing a tug-o-war for third place against a girl twice my weight.

#YesAllWomen Because I felt ashamed of myself when I lost to her even though I did my best and was clearly disadvantaged.

#YesAllWomen Because I feel like I should use a pseudonym when I publish my book so that people take it seriously, not as written by a woman.

#YesAllWomen Because I used to be anorexic.  And like a recovering alcoholic, I may not be in the depths of it anymore, but it doesn't take much to get back into that cycle.  I have to be diligent every day to avoid falling into a full on battle.

#YesAllWomen Because my dad used to call me “slim” as a little girl. Then one day he asked me what I'd do if I got fat. I told him “Daddy, I'd kill myself.” I was 9 years old.

#YesAllWomen Because my dad called me “Mr. Girly Man” when I showed up for a coffee date with him once wearing workout shorts and shirt that showed my muscular arms and legs.

#YesAllWomen Because every time I see my dad now, I feel like I have to dress up so that he thinks I am pretty and consequently says nice things about my appearance, or just nothing negative. 

#YesAllWomen Because when I got married I got up before 5:00am every morning for two weeks to make a hot breakfast for my husband and to pack his lunch. I'd make him dinner every night as well. I wrote little notes to put in his lunch kit. After two weeks of this I got sick (like, actually physically came down with something) and as I lay in bed that morning I cried because I felt like I'd failed him as his wife.

#YesAllWomen Because I can't go through the lineup at Superstore without distracting my husband so he doesn't see the scantily clad women on the magazine covers.

#YesAllWomen Because I'm afraid if he sees them in all their falsified perfection, I won't appeal to him at all.

#YesAllWomen Because every day I feel a battle for what I should wear – should I dress nice and feel “pretty” and good about myself? ... Or should I cover up and hide my beauty so that I don't get ogled or potentially raped if I walk down the street alone?

#YesAllWomen Because like my friend Shantini, I too walk from my car to my apartment with my keys between my fingers like they taught me in grade two to protect myself against any potential attackers.

#YesAllWomen Because in grade two, they taught all the girls my age to aim between the legs if someone attacks you.

#YesAllWomen Because growing up I suffered from major gender identity issues. I acted like a boy in so many ways, but the world expected me to be a girl.

#YesAllWomen Because from a very young age I wished that there was no such thing as gender because I saw how they separated us according to it. Boys vs Girls. No girls allowed etc.  They forced us into molds based on preconceived notions of what it meant to be male or female.

#YesAllWomen Because I switched gyms due to the fact that the one closest to my house has a women's only section that didn't have the free weights I wanted to use... if I went to the “guys” side which was supposed to be for everyone, I got weird looks, being the only female there.

#YesAllWomen Because before I switched gyms, I wouldn't go without a guy to come work out with me as a “workout partner” - but it was just so I'd have a free pass to the good weights and a protector from all the other guys there.

#YesAllWomen Because men stare at me if I act too “manly” (lifting weights and grunting like any human would when lifting that much weight) … and also if I dress too “girly” because the shape of my body draws their attention, even if the only skin showing is on my neck, arms and calves.

#YesAllWomen Because I sell beauty products for a living and I feel like I'm bad at my job if my skin isn't flawless.

#YesAllWomen Because for years I HATED the idea of being pregnant someday because it would ruin my body and I couldn't stand the idea of not having a perfect body. I was terrified of being ugly.

#YesAllWomen Because when I was anorexic, I weighed myself multiple times a day and wrote my weight on the bathroom mirror with a marker. If it went down, I drew a smiley face. If it went up, I drew sad or angry faces.

#YesAllWomen Because I got so obsessed with my weight that my friend had to take my scale away from me.

#YesAllWomen Because I only lasted a couple of weeks of trying to eat every day and not throw up before I found the scale, weighed myself and had an emotional break down when I saw that I'd gained ten pounds from eating properly.

#YesAllWomen Because I can't decide if I want girls or boys when I have kids because every girl will have to be subject to all of this crap, and every boy will be taught to treat girls like crap, no matter how much I try to teach him otherwise.

#YesAllWomen Because this list is almost three pages long, and I could keep going.

As I thought it would be, this was difficult to get through. But there it is, world. All the things that I had to endure because of men who have been taught horrible things about women, or because of things that the world has taught me about why I am not good enough as a woman. This doesn't excuse some of the choices that I made, but it sure explains some of them.

So how do we go about bringing children into this world without fear that they will be taught all of the same horrible things that we were taught? All I can think to say on that is this:

#BeTheChange It starts with me. It starts with you.

Thanks for "listening."

I need a jolt from a lightning bolt - something to get me going

Just a disclaimer: this may offend some people.  I've been told by my aunt once (in a birthday card, I might add) that I sometimes share too much on the internet.  Well, I'm a "don't hold back" kind of girl, and I always have been.  Those who know me have learned to appreciate that side of me.  I hope you can be one of those people.  I've gone through a lot in the last two(ish) years and things have been hard for me.  I also met the love of my life, and got married to him exactly one month ago, today.  I'm currently out of work and looking for a fresh start, but I just don't really know where to find it.  I'm playing the waiting game with God, rather than trying to do what I did before my head injury - things according to my own understanding.  Hopefully this leads to a turn around at some point soon, because I feel like I'm stuck in bottomless pit kind of slow downward spiral... and I mean that in the least depressing way possible :)

Alright, here it is:

May 5^th, 2014, 2:00am

Right now, I feel like I am stuck, and at the same time, I feel like I am on the verge of something bigger and better than I’ve ever experienced.   All these things, I have dreamed of them for so long, and then gone back to living my less than ordinary life.  Is that good enough for me?  Is that all I’m meant to be is just some dreamer who is really good at being nice to people?  Can’t I be good at something bigger than that?  Can’t I make paintings that turn people’s heads and draw their eyes?  Can’t I write a book that is relevant and won’t just get lost in someone’s recycling bin?  Can’t I do something that makes us enough money where we can live that dream of flipping houses together and even building that house that I designed over a decade ago?  Can’t I?

I know the power of words.  “Should” is a big one for me.  I don’t like to say that I should do one thing or another, because I don’t feel it is right to put limits on something as limitless as life.  I just asked the question “Can’t I?” five times, but asking that question is so much different than if I were to say, “I can’t.”  I don’t like to say “I can’t” any more than I like to say “I should.” 

“All things are possible through Christ who gives me strength.”  Of course, this needs to be applied within reason.  Things are possible, yes, but are they aligned with God’s heart?  Maybe God doesn’t want me to succeed, at least not in the way I have my heart set on.  Maybe what He wants is for me to find my worth in Him.  Maybe that is why He keeps allowing things in my life that pull the carpet out from under me just when I am about to get somewhere good – on my own merit.  I like to think that God and I have a good relationship and that my heart is in the right place.  I don’t think I want to be “successful” so that I can have people be in awe of me.  Goodness, I just want to feel like I can be good at something, rather than just okay at various things.  I am an okay singer, I am an okay cook, I am an okay writer, I am an okay painter, I am an okay wife.  I want to be better, but I have no idea how.  I sit down with a blank canvas in front of me, I dip my brush in the paint, brush it across the canvas and I come up with the same old crap that I made last time ... or worse... and I wonder why nobody pays attention to my art.  It needs to be worth noticing.  The painting on my dining room wall is worth noticing.  It is vibrant and colourful.  I want SO badly to say that it is my creation, but it was a collaborative effort between myself and my bridesmaids.  How awful is it that it makes me bitter that they were in on it?  I had this idea in my head of what I wanted it to look like, and because they were all there, they threw paint at the canvas and suddenly it was not mine at all.  It was ours.  That made me feel frustrated.  Everyone who sees the painting will ask if I did it, and I will have to say no, and that it was done by me and a bunch of others.  Like I said, this makes me bitter.  I love the painting.  It’s just that it sits there as a reminder to me that I apparently can’t do anything worth noticing on my own.  There’s that word.  Can’t.

For those of you bridesmaids and friends of mine who helped create the beautiful art that currently adorns my dining room wall, I mean nothing personal by this.  It could have been Vincent Van Gogh back from the dead helping me make that thing and I still would have felt the same way.  Here’s hoping it just inspires me to something bigger and better all on my own.

Sorry for unleashing the "drama" that is my heart right now.

Sorry for apologizing for my feelings - I'm Canadian.  It's what we do.

Thanks for "listening."

What I Learned Today

I just finished reading all of my previous blog posts.  I did this so that I could catch myself up on what I wrote and get a feel for where things had gone in my life in the last two years.  It may sound silly, like I should know where my life went in two years, but there are two reasons why I specifically need a refresher:

1) I am really good at living in the moment and not thinking too much about the past.  This is likely because a lot of my past was painful and simply not thinking about it is a habit that I picked up along the way.

2) I have a head injury that I sustained last year and I have this new skill set that allows me to forget things almost instantaneously after they happen, and/or right when I really need to remember them.

So, what did I learn about by reading my previous posts?  Let me tell you.  I learned that:

- There is great value in writing things down. 

You may think that you will remember things, but the truth of the matter is, you won’t always remember things.  You may block things out, get distracted by a major life event, sustain a head injury like I did, or have age related memory loss later in life.  Not only that, but the brain has an interesting way of remembering things – at least, mine does.  Having read through the last two years of my life (parts of it, anyway) I realized that my mind remembers bits and pieces of things, the important stuff... and what I actually felt and wrote down is much more emotional than what I remembered.  It is so much more in depth than I often remember it being.  Things that seemed important, or serious two years ago don’t seem as significant now.  When I look back on the past and see that my problems and emotions were minor and my attitude and outlook were juvenile, I am able to analyze my current state much more clearly.  If I am feeling lost or like I am not doing enough with my life, I can look back on what I have written and see how far I really have come.  That helps.

- I need to back up my files

One of my posts talked about a list of 1000 things for which I am thankful.  Since writing said list (I don’t remember how far I got... somewhere in the 300’s I think) my computer crashed and I can no longer access any of my files, including my thankfulness list.  I also wrote a book which was in its third draft.  That was also lost.  Somewhere I have a hard copy of the first draft, but needless to say, the whole thing has changed significantly since its first draft.  For a while I was afraid to create anything in written form on a computer.  I was afraid that I would end up losing it.  Now I am past that fear and I am able to start writing again.  This time, I will save my work... in more than just one place.

- God gives us the desires of our hearts.

Having looked back on my blog posts, I was able to see all of the things that I had prayed for.  As I saw these things, I realized that I now had many of those things.  God really does give good gifts to His kids.  I just need to look back and see what was then as compared to what is now so I can see what things God has done.  It is so easy for the days to go by one by one, each one passing with seemingly little change.  When this happens it can be easy to think that the blessings in our lives are things that we have achieved on our own by working hard day by day.  But if we look back a year, or two or three, we can see more significant change. We can see the points at which God intervened and it is much more evident that God had His hand in things the whole way along.  

- I have many things for which to be thankful.

Here is where I start my list over.

1) I am thankful for pie.

2) I am thankful to live in Canada where I have access to clean water and free medical care.

3) I am thankful for my car.

4) I am thankful for my family.

5) I am thankful for my friends.

6) I am thankful for my church family.

7) I am thankful for my cats.

8) I am thankful for my vacuum cleaner.

9) I am thankful for my boyfriend.

10) I am thankful for his amazing family and how they have welcomed me to be a part of it.

11) I am thankful for my bed.

12) I am thankful for my voice.

13) I am thankful for my body.

14) I am thankful for Jesus.

15) I am thankful for angels.

16) I am thankful that God protects me in ways I don’t even know.

17) I am thankful that I am able to walk.

18) I am thankful for fresh produce.

19) I am thankful for my juicer.

20) I am thankful for dollar stores.

I could keep going, but I will leave you with that.

Thanks for “listening.”