Hey you!

I can't think of a single woman in my life who doesn't need to use this as their personal daily motto. Not one. single. female. Which kind of breaks my heart...because from where I am sitting, every one of you is all kinds of awesome. Do the best you can for yourself as often as possible, and how could you be anything less than awesome, really?

I also wonder (like all the time!), why men don't seem to be plagued with the same levels of self loathing, self doubt and emotionally masochistic behaviour patterns that us chickens are. WTF is that about!?! I officially deem it un-fucking-fair.

That's all for today.

Have an awesome day!

xoxox

~Jenn

If...

I am going to be some kind of Superhero, then I want a pink cape.

That's all.
xoxox
~J

I'm not perfect.

I read an article recently that basically stated people use Facebook, Twitter and blogs as forums to paint the best possible picture of themselves. Why wouldn't we? Don't we all like to be admired? looked up to? thought of positively?

Well, I'm here to say that while I am genuinely and truly all puppies, rainbows and pretty rose coloured glasses, like 90% of the time... Like everyone else, I am not perfect.

-I am greatly affected by the energy around me. If it is erratic, dramatic, and negative, I will hold it at arm's length as long as I can, but it will affect me in a bad way if it gets too close.

-Now that I have stopped turning to food for comfort, I am constantly freaked out and overwhelmed by the feelings I used to stuff down inside. I haven't ever had to deal with feelings of loneliness, disappointment, anger, and frustration in a constructive adult way. I am trying so fucking hard to express my feelings lately, but feel like I am fucking it up. Huge.

-And here I am, writing, expressing myself. This pisses me off enormously because I am able to formulate thoughts, and write them out, but verbalizing them scares the hell out of me.

-Even thought I know how wrong it is, I still sometimes test the people around me. When I realize that I am doing it, however infrequently or insignificant the test, I try to think logically and stop it right away. That doesn't always work, and I alone, am left holding that.

-On occasion, I hold the people closest to me, to a higher than necessary standard...like they are superheroes or something. Maybe they don't know that the words "I'm sorry" are all I want to hear, or that what I need right now is some affection, attention or understanding. And instead of telling them what I need, I fester. That's not okay.

-I have always been strong. Like, my whole life, I have gone it alone. And letting people get really close to me on a deep level still scares the shit out of me. But when I do that, I do it with the hope that I won't have to figure it all out on my own anymore.
Yes, I am strong. But I am essentially as strong as I have to be to keep myself afloat.
It is exhausting.

-Instead of being honest and telling a friend that I can't continue to ride their emotional roller coaster for my own sanity, I will put distance between myself and that friend...but they are often left wondering where I went. That isn't fair.

-I sometimes have the unrealistic expectation that the people who love me will just understand me, saving me having to find the words to explain myself. That feels childish.

-Sometimes, I have overblown expectations of the people who I love.

-I struggle with showing people my less than favourable qualities, and speaking my mind...because of the fear that they won't love me anymore.

I'm a work in progress. I'm not perfect. Nobody is.

I hope that you are having an awesome day.
xoxox
~J

3 words I never thought I'd hear myself say...

Just three little words.

They mean nothing to some people, and everything to others.

There are people who understand them, and people who don't.

Not everyone can handle them. Not everyone can do it. Not everyone wants to.

I invited this new thing in to my life.

I WANT this new thing in my life!

I have worked for it. And I have worked damn hard at it.

Harder sometimes, than I have worked at much of anything else.

I have made room, and time and space in my days for it.

I have shared it with others.

I have inspired others to try it themselves.

And I know in my head that it isn't all or nothing.

I know this, logically.

But I'm a bit emotionally topsy-turvy today.

And those three little words are haunting me.

I. Miss. Running.

#stupidfuckingknee

Never in my life could I have ever predicted that I would say those words.

Does this mean I am a runner now?

I hope that your day is AWESOME, and injury free.

xoxox

~J

Healthy Boundaries...

I used to flucuate between the 3 images on the right.

I am steadily becoming the girl on the far left.

I am a big believer in healthy boundaries.

I function better with them.

I don't need to explain my boundaries to others. They're mine.

I am happier and more surrounded now that I have taken down the walls. I am happier and balanced now that I practice healthy boundaries. But the lesson I am still trying to navigate my way through, is how to feel compassion for someone without taking on their pain and energy to the point where it affects me negatively.

I can't fix everyone. That was a hard lesson to learn, and even harder to put into practice.
I can't even help everyone. Certainly not those who aren't willing to help themselves.

I do not possess stoical qualities, and I am still learning to choose as wisely as possible, as often as possible to let only those with consistent positive energy who will lift me up - as opposed to drag me down - into my life.

Part of my healthy boundaries are not just learning who to let in, but who to hold at arm's length, and also who to let out. It wasn't healthy for me to maintain and hold on to a relationship with my ex's children and family, for example. We remained close at first, but over time, we moved on...and we are better for it. We were family for awhile, and they will always hold a special place in my heart, but we all had to move on. The relationships had run their course, we had moved on and found new people, and in order for all of us to move forward, we had to....you know what I am going to say next, right?
We had to let go of the past.

I'm not saying it was easy. I'm saying it was necessary.

Man alive, do the lessons ever stop coming? My Nana says no, they don't ever stop. She says that we never stop learning and discovering things about ourselves and life. Even at her age, which, come to think of it...I have no idea how old she is.

Side note: My Nana also says that all men act like children, and are easily amused like children. Even when they are 82 years old. 

Have an awesome day!
xoxox
~J

Let Go.

There was a time when I could not sit quietly by myself and enjoy my own company. In times of stillness, I found myself dwelling in a dark and lonely place that I believe can only be called 'Emotional Masochism-ville'... I would suffocate myself on old pain, choke on the words I should have said, commiserate about what could have been and obsess over the thoughts of why not me? and my favourite... what is wrong with me?


I was an expert at holding on to the past. Hoping things would change with my family, unable to let go of old friends like they were some sort of life raft and held my self-worth in their hands.

 I believe that I was a little like water. I had a tendency to take on whatever form I poured myself in to. Or maybe I was more like a sponge, soaking up all the problems of the people who surrounded me, helping them, fixing them, working with them. A water filled sponge maybe? I digress....


Over and over again, I threw myself into new people and new things to distract myself at all possible costs from looking in the mirror and dealing with my own issues.


Until I had an epihany. The light came on, and I realized that the life I was helping others create, was the life I wanted for myself. The advice I was giving, I should have been taking. The walls I was helping others climb, were the same walls that surrounded me.


So I started doing the brutally hard work to uncover my most authentic self, and my deepest happiness. Consistent therapy helped me attack the voices that circled in my head over and over, louder and louder, until I finally won the battle more often than I lost it. Through writing and making myself accountable, I was able to beat my weaknesses and self-doubt wide open. And on my own, I finally threw down the hope that the past was going to change.


The past is the past. It shaped who I became, but it doesn't define me.


I grew to accept that relationships end for a reason. I discovered that there are lessons to be learned from every single person that comes in to our lives. There are lessons to be learned from every single person who removes themselves from our lives. There are lessons to learn from the people who did us harm, and didn't see the value in what we offered. And I learned to let go.

Only once I started letting go, forgiving myself, forgiving my past, and moving forward, I noticed that I felt more even, balanced, and content than I had ever imagined I could feel. A quiet contentedness that didn't need to be broadcast, because people around me could feel it in my energy. A calm, steady, joy that came from within, as opposed to all the external sources from which I had previously gone searching for it.


After some time, a lot of tears, and oodles of money spent on therapy, I distinctly recall the first moment that I sat quietly all alone in my living room with the sun pouring in and the feeling of being so enlightened…so happy…so fulfilled from within that I thought I just might burst.


It’s a feeling that comes on at random intervals now; when I am alone, when I am with others who bring me joy, when I am kissing the man I care so much about these days. It might seem like this feeling comes from nowhere, for no particular reason, when in reality, it comes from me. From the quiet knowledge that I am on the right path, doing the best things I can for myself as often as possible, and knowing in both my head and my heart that I deserve all the good things that surround me.


I went from being like water, to being myself.

Old habits die hard...

I have never (like, never ever) been very good at asking for help. I have always (like forever and ever) taken care of myself, and done it alone.



But this weekend was proof positive that I am more surrounded than I thought I was, and I am also truly supported by the best kind of friends that a girl could ever hope for. To say that I am grateful would be a massive understatement.


Summing up last week, I would say that it was, in a nutshell, kinda shitty.

I spent most of the week beating myself up for having hopped on the scale to discover that I have gained some weight. I was kicking myself because I know what to do, but I slid off course for awhile. I berated myself because I stuggle so hard with expressing my needs verbally…yet I seem to have no issue writing them down...and to me, that feels silly sometimes.



I have been falling short, and because of that, I have been hating myself. As if my self worth is directly related to the number on the scale!


Dear self, The number on the scale doesn't define you. For the love of God, get that through your head! Oh, and you are NOT a failure. Love, me.

The reality right now is that I need help. And I have to practice being brave and talk about this stuff. In order for me to succeed, to get where I want to be, I need to be clear about the things I require from those around me, and I have to stop feeling like a 'freak' for having restrictive food and calorie requirements in order to meet my health goals.

Instead of traditional 'fast food', I need to opt for healthier options like sandwichs, soups, and salads. Instead of chocolate cake, I need to choose chocolate avocado pudding with fresh fruit. Instead of chips, lets make it popcorn. Instead of juice, pop and alcohol, I'll have water please. Instead of driving 2km for breakfast, lets walk. Instead of a cheese based supper, lets have fish and bean salad.

Instead of shutting down and holding it all in, I will take a deep breath, count to 3, and ask for help.


Last week, I learned that its okay to make mistakes. Its okay to slide backwards, as long as you don't slide back to ground zero. Its okay to talk to your closest people and lean on them ever-so-slightly for support. I learned that I am not a 'freak' for wanting to eat perfectly healthy food at least 80% of the time. And I learned that the family I have chosen for myself will love and support me no matter what.


And if they end up feeling better because they joined me, well that’s the icing on the cake the lemon in their water and the extra room in their pants.

xoxox
Jenn

I wish...

I wish I was a girl who could eat whatever she wanted. In moderation.



I wish I was a girl who instinctively knew what moderation really was, instead of having to concentrate so hard on finding that balance.


I wish I was a girl who could eat what everyone else is eating.


I wish I was a girl who could go to a dinner party without the anxiety of wondering what will be served.


I wish I was a girl who was able to restrain herself from eating too much of a good thing.


I wish I was a girl who loved vegetables, and didn't have to find creative ways to sneak them in.


I wish I was a girl who had always been able to see herself the way others saw her.


I wish I was a girl who had a carefree approach to food.

I wish I was a girl who had always known how to eat to fuel her body instead of comfort her soul.

I wish I was a girl who had always known how to exercise and treat her body and herself well.

I wish I was a girl who didn't have to plan and think about calories, balance, and nutrition all. the. time.

I wish so badly that I wasn't a girl with food issues.


But I am a girl with food issues. I have to live with that. And I did it to myself. As a child, I turned to food for comfort and sheild, and as an adult it became a full blown problem. A lifelong problem in fact, that I fear may never fully go away. I sometimes embrace that this will probably be a struggle for the rest of my days, and I am truly okay with that. And then I forget for a little while, and I slip, slide backwards a little bit, until I remember again... "Oh right. You're that girl."

I like her. I like me. I like that girl.

Without all those issues and struggles and lessons, I wouldn't be who I am today.

I like her. I like me. I like that girl.

I'm a work in progress, and I may never be done.

I hope that you are having an AWESOME day. You deserve it.

xoxox
~J

No Drama Zone.

This is where I live.

Please don't bring Drama to my door.

Getting tangled in a web of 'he said she said' is not my idea of a good time.

Leave Narrow Mind, and Judgement behind, too.

Don't bring your friends Guilt or Overblown Expectation with you either.

I won't answer the door, and I definitely won't come out to play.

These guilt trips you try to give me are gifts that I must refuse.

I believe in compassion and empathy, but I will not give you all of me.

I make a habit out of building healthy boundaries now, you see.

 Unless you have walked in my shoes, please don't pretend to know me.

The same as I will never assume that I have all the answers to unlock you.

I march to the beat of my own band, please don't ask me to conform.

Any efforts to stifle my voice will only prove to be an exercise in futility.

Riding a roller coaster of emotions can't be very much fun.

It isn't fun for the people around you.

The past is the past. Let it go.

Having positive energy draws people in.

Having negative energy pushes people out.

Believe in me, as I believe in you.

We all deserve to be happy.

This is where I live.

It's pretty here.

Let go.

A picture is worth a thousand words...

Nuff said.

xoxox
~J

Appropriate quote for today...

And just like that, like I was meant to see this quote today, I get this little gem in my inbox:
"Whatever someone did to you in the past has no power over the present." - Oprah

Applicable after the post I made earlier today.
As usual, she's right. Just sayin'.
xoxox
~Jenn

Dear Dad.

Dear Dad,


Let me start this letter by saying we are all entitled to our own version of the truth, and this is mine. That is the beauty of perception, after all. Let me also state, right from the top, that I am pissed off at you. And this letter, which I will never send, won't be pretty, or politically correct, or even all that censored.

I often find myself wondering how anyone could ever knowingly leave their children. I specify knowingly, because you knew we existed. You held me in your arms when I was a newborn. You were there when I learned to crawl and walk. You knew me as a little person. You knew us as sweet, growing, learning, innocent wide eyed beautiful little girls, Jules and I. And you still somehow managed to walk away from the both of us.

And never fucking come back.


No Christmas cards, no birthday cards, no Valentine's chocolates, or Easter egg treats.

Not even a phone call.


Over the years, I have tried to understand how this seemed even remotely reasonable to you. How did you justify it in your head that it was okay to go about life taking the easy road and paying child support, but not by doing what would have made a difference and actually showing up?


Did it ever occur to you that we may have wanted, nay, needed a steady male role model in our lives? Have you ever stopped to consider the ramifications of what it's like to grow up knowing that your parent had a choice, and chose to leave? Have you ever thought about the messages that your decision sent to your two beautiful daughters?


Accurate or not, the message received was this: "You are unloveable. You are not worth the fight, the effort, the time. You are not worthy of being loved by the person who should love and protect you the most."


Have you ever felt the weight of the subsequent behaviour patterns that come from having the most important male role model in your life bail on you? Well, let's start with promiscuity, closet eating, over eating, and finish with an almost compulsive desire to please people and have everyone like me.


This desperate and delusional need to please people, keep the peace every-fricking-where I go, fix everyone and everything around me, and be loved unconditionally ultimately led me straight into the arms of a sociopath, might I add. So thanks for that too.


I wasn't even 5 when you left. I wasn't done building the foundation of who I would later become, and I wasn't done acquiring the fundamental qualities and abilities that people need to succeed in life. As an example, the abilities to trust, and open up to others; the never ending chase for love and acceptance that led me all over hell's half acre; and I really could have lived without the gnawing fear of abandonment I have wrestled with my whole life, too.


I remember being so excited when I sought you out at age 17, and came to visit with you - meeting 2 aunts, 2 uncles, 7 cousins, my paternal grandmother, and your new wife. I remember choking on the word 'dad' and using it only out of necessity the first time, and how weird that felt for me. Had you waited all those years to hear that word? Do you miss it still?


The way I remember it, that trip ended and our relationship continued for a couple of years...on my effort, time and committment, until I realized that I was carrying it for the both of us, and I finally put it down.


That was a big life lesson for me that really only sank in 10+ years later --- I cannot carry relationships with people who are not stable, consistant, and equal participants. It isn't fair to me, and I deserve better than that.


I remember asking you at that time why you hadn't called all of those years...and why you still weren't calling now that we had re-connected. Your response was something along the lines of you "didn't want my mom to answer the phone and you have to ask for me. That would be uncomfortable."


Wow. I cannot believe I accepted that bullshit as an answer.


Don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming you entirely for all of the adult choices I have made - some of them being stellar, after all - but the irrefutable fact of the matter, is that all of these self-destructive behaviour patterns stem from somewhere...and I lay that first brick in the foundation on you. How do you like them apples? What would you say if you knew all of this? Would you even care?


I wonder that sometimes. Do you even care about Jules or I? Care what we are doing? Where we are in the world? In our lives? What we look like? Are we happy? Married? Do you wonder if you have grandchildren? Do you ever think about contacting either of us? It's not like it would be hard to do...thanks to the internet and Facebook, we are both ridiculously accessible.

And there is my answer I suppose...you don't contact us because you don't want to. Too much time and space has passed between us now, and it would be "uncomfortable". Well, I'd hate for that to feel awkward or difficult for you.


If someone were to ask me if I would change anything about my past and how I was raised? I would say probably not....because, while it took most of my life to get here, I like who I am now. At the end of the day, I grew up feeling unloved, undeserving of good people and good things. I put everyone else before myself and my own health and happiness, laid myself in harm's way, and I gave myself to people who didn't deserve me. And for a long time, I believed that I would fail at everything I tried... but if there is one thing I am, it is resilient. And I have come to learn that these horrible negative beliefs are not the sum of who I am, they do not reflect me, nor what I stand for.

Ultimately, I am better than all of that. I am worth more. And I deserve better.

So I write this letter, because it has weighed on my mind for far too long, and that ill-received message sent so long ago has dragged me down quite enough. I'm sure that I still have a fair bit of work to do, but this letter was a huge step for me. I am going to work at being less pissed off at you, and focus on moving forward, with better men in my life, who are better fathers than you could ever hope to be, asshole.

Boyfriend? Girlfriend?

boyfriend

n: a male friend with whom a person is romantically or sexually involved; sweetheart or lover


Or, in my world…the word I still struggle with because it feels a little bit juvenile, a little bit too good to be true, and let's face it....I don't have a lot of experience with the word.


girlfriend
n: a female friend with whom a man or boy is romantically or sexually involved; sweetheart or lover


Or, in my world…the word I love to hear him call me. Even if it does make me wrinkle my nose, gag a little sometimes, and giggle. Like, a lot.

I have many issues folks. The words 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' are just 2 of them.


Have an awesome day!


xoxox
Jenn

Being Bullied.

There has been a lot of talk about children being bullied lately. It is something that has gone on for decades, but more and more kids and teens are taking their own lives because they can't handle the emotional torture and abuse any longer. Every time I hear another story, it breaks my heart...

The list of reasons why kids bully each other is endless really - acne, no-name brand clothing, having a 'weird' name, being poor, having an absent parent, what your parents do for a living, wearing flood pants, having bad teeth, needing thick glasses, talking funny, being short, having 'weird' lunches, coming from another country, having braces, being skinny, and of course, being fat.

None of which are justified. Not one.
I was teased and made fun of for a number of things on the list above, but the words that stuck the most, and hurt the worst were:

-lard ass
-hippo
-cow
-disgusting
-ugly
-wide load
-thunder thighs
-Miss. Piggy
-amazon
-fat
-fatso
-fat pig
-fat ugly pig
-fat fucking pig

Looking back at pictures from when this started, I in no way consider myself fat or obese. I was like a lot of kids - chubby. Maybe chubby. I was definitely one of the tallest girls, and in a lot of cases, I was taller than the boys, too. My size didn't deter them from picking on me though, and my personality allowed it to continue.

As a response to being called all these names, and being teased relentlessly, I ate.
My father left and never came back.
This made me sad, so I ate.
We didn't have enough money to buy brand named clothes.
I got made fun of, so I ate.
A neighbour touched me inappropriately and repeatedly.
I was ashamed, so I ate.
My mom wasn't nice to me about my weight.
To piss her off and push the limits of how much she could love me as I was, I ate.

Those are the reasons I ate. Food was my comfort. Just like drugs, alcohol, sex and material goods are the comfort blanket that many others seek shelter under. We can never assume we know how anyone else is living their life, until we have walked in their shoes. You have no idea what is going on with someone, their home life, financial situation, mental well being...and you don't have the right to make fun of them.

In turn, I believe that I then made fun of other kids who were less fortunate than even I was. I am not proud of any time that I ever made fun of anyone else, because if they carried those words around with them for even a fraction of the time that I carried hurtful words with me, it is too long.

Quite simply, it is not okay to ever treat people this way. It starts at such a young age, and parents have to keep a close eye on their kids - even calling each other 'stupidhead' is like a gateway to bigger and more hurtful words later, is it not?

People grow up with this pain, and the hurtful words play over and over until we then believe them ourselves. How awful it is to go from being an innocent, invincible, wide-eyed child who believes that anything is possible, to being a shell of your former self and feeling like shit on shoes as an adult.

#1 rule - be kind to one another. Just be nice. Say nice things. Do nice things. Act nicely. Treat them how you would like to be treated.

What a novel concept, I know...

Have an awesome day!
xoxox
~J