30th Update & Other Talk

Today is my birthday and I have officially turned the clock over to 30 years old. At midnight this morning, my boyfriend and I were in bed laughing and being the dorks that we are. A joke was made that my “walker is in the closet” and I may have threatened him that he will be permanently in a wheelchair if he keeps making jokes like that. It was the perfect way to start this day. I didn’t feel old or unloved, I didn’t feel like my life was over, and I was and am happy. Being 30 and not married and having babies does not in any way make me less successful in life. I have a beautiful daughter who loves me, a man who loves me, and family and friends that I adore. There is nothing more important than that – not this year and not any other year. Oh yeah, and IIIIII am starting to love me. (I say “starting” because it’s a process that will take a while to get the hang of and I’m okay with that)

Since I’ve decided to love myself and accept myself as I am (while still trying to BE healthier but not giving a flying fuck about the number on the scale or the tags of my clothing)… I started looking around for clothes that fit me. Because, SHOCKINGLY, I’m wearing clothes that are too small for me in the hopes that I can fake being a size medium or large and it will randomly just be true. Do other people do that? I bet they do. It’s a psychological thing. But when I do that, I’m even more uncomfortable because my stuff doesn’t fit. It’s a vicious circle, it really is.

Do you know how little options there are in North America for nice AND affordable plus size clothing?? In the UK there is SO MUCH nice stuff that won’t break the bank, but out here in Canada the nice stuff is pretty pricey. Alas, I am searching online and will be heading to the dreaded mall this weekend and will hopefully find a few things that I can show and review here. Warning: I have NO idea how to take a proper full body picture with the right lighting. I can do part of my head and that’s about it. Seriously. It’s ridiculous.

There is no other way to evoke change from within without accepting yourself as you are first. I used to think that being skinny was the only way that I would be happy, but I’m looking at these curvy bombshells that rock a pinup dress and realized that skinny isn’t what I want. I just want to be healthy and take care of my body. I have put so much emphasis on weight and measurements that I haven’t fully lived. My life has, in a lot of ways, revolved around my weight and my unhappiness/loathing/disgust for myself. I am not a victim to my own bullshit anymore.

This would be the perfect time for me to have a full body picture of myself to be like, “BAM! This is me in all my curvy glory!” but I don’t so we will just pretend that I do and all hoorah at the strength it takes to own your shit. (I was really trying to find a more eloquent way to say that but I couldn’t… Sorry!)

Cheers to being 30 and loving life 🙂


Frustrated with Nutrition

I am SO frustrated right now! There is so much – TOO MUCH – information out there about what’s healthy and what isn’t. I find myself getting really confused and feeling lost about how to determine what balance is “correct”. I have read articles that discuss the health benefits of beans, nuts, seeds, raw foods, cooked foods, animal protein, plant protein, etc. etc. etc. I have ALSO read about the health detriments of the same things. It’s so hard to filter through the crap and see what is true.

I will not be strictly plant based but I want to have a lot of fruits, vegetables, and things from the earth in their truest forms. BUT, I also don’t want to be so restricted that my return to chewing food is stressful. I swore to myself that I would never count another calorie, gram of fat, sugar, or carbohydrate again because if I am eating a healthy diet, I really believe that I won’t have to. The problem is – WHAT IS A HEALTHY DIET?! There is way too much information, studies, and “experts” out there.

I know that the standard North American diet is bad. I understand that we should not be eating processed foods filled with refined sugars, etc. I get it, I really do. But when researching raw/vegetarian/paleo, there is so much debate and contradiction on what is healthy and what is not. I know that I will just do what works for me but I’m nervous about doing it “wrong” and having health issues/tons of weight gain/etc. which is the last thing I need.

Sorry for the depressing post, I’m just feeling overwhelmed and stressed out.

Booze Banishing

It’s been years in the making, my desire to quit drinking at parties and in certain scenarios. I’ve probably said it a good 30 times if not more that I would like to stop, that I should stop. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t party every night or even a few times a week. Typically it’s once either on a Friday or Saturday (and it isn’t EVERY weekend). I don’t have an issue with drinking too frequently but an issue with the changes it sometimes makes in me when I do it. I go from being (and I’m not being arrogant here and I don’t mean to come across that way) a fun loving dork who is a relatively happy-go-lucky person to a negative, confrontational, needy, and intense person whom, after all is said and done, I don’t even want to associate with. I’m lucky that I have the people in my life that I do, because if I were them, I don’t know if I would want to be around me if there was a chance that I would be drinking.

I’ve tried to quit quite a few times but after a while of not drinking, I forget why I’m not doing it and think, “I can have a few and stop… I don’t have to continue and get really drunk.” Well, guess what? I have way more than a few and I stop once I’ve exhausted myself emotionally and the booze is making me pass out. I don’t know my limit so after a few when I’m still feeling sober, I keep going. I know so many people who say that there’s no way you can not know your limit… But I don’t. I go from being fine one drink, to fubar the next. I’ve tried to control it, to watch for the signs, but I don’t know what they are because they seem to happen so fast.

I need this time to stick. I need to be able to stay sober at parties. I get really bad anxiety, especially when I’m around people I don’t know. I thought that drinking made that better, made me more social. But it doesn’t. What it does is make me feel threatened and scared, but because I’m drinking it doesn’t come across that way. I come across more volatile and crazy. Great. That’s what every girl wants to be or how she wants to feel after a night of “fun”.

I need to stress though that just because I don’t know my limit and I get anxiety, that doesn’t excuse the way that I act or the things that I say. Sure, the first handful of times it’s happened, maybe. But at this point, I know what happens when I drink and saying sorry doesn’t cut it anymore and feeling stupid the next day is deserved for engaging in an activity that I know isn’t good for me or my relationships with the people around me.
In the times where I’ve quit drinking or took a break before, whatever you want to call it, and I’ve been with friends who are drinking, I still have fun. In fact, I have more fun because the next day I don’t hate myself and I’m not embarrassed. I’ve stayed happy and the only drawback was that I get tired earlier which in the grand scheme of things isn’t a bad thing. If I go to bed at 2 instead of 5, I wake up earlier and actually have more valuable weekend time.

I guess it’s part of our society though that encourages drinking and partying. I don’t where the stigma comes from that says your weekend is wasted if you aren’t. (Oooh I really hope I made that up! Lol) I would rather have a full weekend where I can see friends and get things done to having one drunken night followed by the remainder of the weekend in bed because I don’t feel well physically or I’m depressed.

Everything in moderation though and I really am jealous of the people who can handle their alcohol and have fun while not doing damage to themselves mentally and the people around them. I need to holdfast this time and remember why I’m doing this and what I stand to lose if I don’t. I know everyone is hardest on themselves, we’re all our own worst critic, blah blah blah, but it’s the way I feel inside when I get to that dark place while drinking and the cloud that hangs over me sometimes for days after that I need to remember when I’m tempted to drink again. I’ve had a lot of fun times while drinking that didn’t end with me feeling that way, but there are too many times where it has ended that way for this to be a good gamble to take.

I think I’ve rambled on for long enough. I really just needed to get that out and articulate it. Writing always makes me feel better. I really should do it more than I do. Soon… Once the art/guest room is complete, I’ll write more.

Random Parenting Ramble

For those of you whom have children or have been around them enough, saying that parenting is hard is a gross understatement. You’re constantly juggling expectations, be it societal or familial, educational, or the ones you’ve put on yourself. You aren’t ever really sure if what you are doing is the best and there is more trial and error than anything else.

I truly believe that you’re never fully ready to be a parent. You can have three children and have to parent them all differently because they aren’t the same and what works for one may not work for the others. I had my daughter at 19 years old (pregnant at 18) and I knew nothing about being a parent. I had never been around children as my siblings and cousins were all substantially older than me. The day that I found out I was pregnant, things changed, I changed. My focus immediately went to this little person growing inside of me that needed me. The bud of the mother’s instinct, I guess. I was still terrified though and had no idea what to expect.

I didn’t sleep during my labour or after she was born for two or three days. I would just stare at her. I couldn’t believe this little person was mine and that she had grown inside me and I was able to finally hold her in my arms. I cried over those first few days a lot. I cried over the pain of child birth and the beauty that made it worth every second. I cried knowing that women all over the world willingly and joyfully go through the physical pain every day and the strength that it shows. I cried and thanked my mother for having me because I understood what it means to be a mother even though I was still just a kid, brand new to motherhood, and scared to death. I cried because I knew that I would be a single mom, I just didn’t know when.

One of the hardest parts about being a new parent, for me, was the little things you take for granted that you can’t just do anymore. Everything has to be scheduled and it’s all done around your child’s watch. Sleep was something I missed a lot. Showering. Eating hot food. Who am I kidding? I would have been happy with a lukewarm meal. But while I wasn’t prepared for the little things that I take for granted to change, I also wasn’t prepared for the new little things that would brighten my day. The look on her face after she would yawn or when I would be singing something that, to her, was ridiculous (I still get that look, increasingly more as of late). Her laugh, which was and still is a full belly laugh full of happiness. The way in which she would watch me expectantly before I hid from her while playing “Peek-A-Boo”, her eyes full of excitement and smiling that big toothless grin.

The love that you feel for these little people that you have created is intense and terrifying. You know nothing for sure except that as long as they are okay, you are okay. It’s hard as the years go on and you have to act upset when you sometimes want to laugh because you know that for their growth there are lessons they need to learn and it is part of your role to help them learn these lessons.

Sometimes you get upset with them only to realize later that it wasn’t them you were upset with at all but some outside source and these little people who want nothing more than to love you, be with you, and make you proud of them got the brunt end of the shit stick that was your day/morning/argument/whatever. It’s important to me that my daughter know that I am human. I make mistakes and I am far from perfect. I think it’s essential as a parent to apologize to your children and speak openly about what is happening in your life that may be upsetting you. I don’t mean go into great details, but don’t shut them out. Your child can tell when you’re hurting or upset, and letting them into your personal life will help them let you into theirs. And they have a personal life the moment they start going to day care or school.  

Maybe it’s the years that she and I spent just the two of us that has forged the bond that we have. Maybe we were always meant to be together. I know that I need her just as much as she needs me and that my life is as bright as it is because she is in it. I know that I wouldn’t change one single thing about getting pregnant at a young age because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have this beautiful little girl that I get to raise and watch grow.

I don’t do everything right, I know that. But I am doing my best and sometimes that really isn’t going to be good enough and I know that too. There is no book that can tell you how to parent your child. If there was, there wouldn’t be literally thousands of parenting books that have been and are being sold as I type this. It’s like trying to write what the meaning of life is. It’s different for everyone. I’m not knocking parenting books at all, but unless you are trying to address a specific issue that you are struggling with, a book isn’t going to help you much. At the end of the day, I want my daughter to be happy. She seems quite happy and well adjusted so I know that I am doing something right. Exactly what that is…. I don’t know.  

I could write for days about this but I will cut it for now. Lol. I’m not proofreading so hopefully it’s laid out alright.

Scaredy Cat

I am realizing that life is so short, too short to let past hang-ups inhibit my future. I may have said this before, I’m not really sure, but I don’t do a lot of things that I want to do in life because I am scared. I worry about what people will think of me if I do something, even if it’s what I really want to do. And that fear can be crippling at times. I have spent more than half of my life being scared and I don’t want to be that girl anymore. I want to be carefree and have the freedom internally that the young me always craved and for some reason thought that I would magically have once I became an “adult” at 18. I don’t think I really became an adult until 25 or 26. It has been in the last two years where I think I have grown the most. There’s space for more growth and I know that how I feel today is different than how I will feel tomorrow.

I don’t want to look back on my life and think of all of the times I was too scared to do something and may have missed a great opportunity. It’s time for me to say goodbye to that scared little girl and just be myself. I only get one chance in this life and I want to make the most of it. It will mean I fall down, a Hell of a lot more than I have ever let myself, but I will live without regrets, and I will let go of the things I have been holding onto as an excuse to hold me back.

“What we call our destiny is truly our character and that character can be altered.  The knowledge that we are responsible for our actions and attitudes does not need to be discouraging, because it also means that we are free to change this destiny.  One is not in bondage to the past, which has shaped our feelings, to race, inheritance, background.  All this can be altered if we have the courage to examine how it formed us. We can alter the chemistry provided we have the courage to dissect the elements.”
—   Anaïs Nin


She sits there with her back to the door, locking everyone out and herself in. How many times has she made this promise to herself? You never let them in. It is much safer to keep them out. Look from the window, go out and see them, enjoy the space between them and your door but never, never lead them back to you. To where you are safe. Because once they are inside, how do you get them out?

They follow her through the forest and she runs rampant, zigging this way and that. The brave maneuver over the walls and through the maze, but very rarely do they break through to the clearing where she stays. She watches as most turn back, lost and confused in the dense brush.

Sometimes she hears their voice, their footsteps. Sees them standing inside, smiling at her, talking to her. And she forgets that they aren’t real, that they’re gone. In that moment she smiles that smile that is theirs and watches them flicker and fade from her sight. She’s left alone again in that room, the dust uniformly covering that which she cherishes most and protects. She turns down the lantern and lays down closing her eyes, her heart quieting to a slow beat. In her place where she is safe.

Masks… Again

We all wear masks at different times in our life. Sometimes it is to protect ourselves and sometimes it is to protect others. It is important that we don’t lose sight of where the mask ends and we begin. You get used to wearing it if you do it often enough and sometimes you forget that the person you are pretending to be isn’t really you.  The mask is at times essential for one’s own survival. To be seen without it can leave you too open and vulnerable. I prefer a person that doesn’t like my masks and adores my flaws no matter how ridiculous they may be. I love people who can embraces me for everything I am and everything I am not and never will be. And I love that it is okay for me not be perfect, for me to be fatally flawed in some respects. It is exhausting to constantly put on a façade and I’m amazed at the people that can keep it up for as long as they do. Sometimes when I retreat into myself, it’s simply because I don’t have the energy to put the mask on anymore.

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth. – Oscar Wilde

Sometimes when I write in my journal, when I need to be brutally honest but can’t because I am scared it will make me sound weak or overly dramatic, I say “she”, and the words flow a lot easier. It can be really difficult to write about yourself and your feelings honestly so the quote from Oscar Wilde rings very true for me, and I would think for many of you.

I am working on my mask. I want to limit the amount that I wear it and not feel so world weary.

I’ve noticed that I write the most when I am feeling contemplative or down. It isn’t that I’m never happy because I am a lot, but I relate to this feeling better and it is in my times of struggle that I find my voice. When I am going through a change of some sort or my heart is shifting or I’m learning a lesson, that is when I write.