Body Shaming…. Acceptance……or Flaunting?

I struggled to decide what to call this post. I’ve been thinking about it quite a bit lately, but with my decision to try and remain positive and not contribute any more negativity than necessary, it’s not as easy to write as some of my previous posts. I do think, however, that there is a way to question something that you may not understand in a non-judgemental way. And of course I’m talking about the little things; people’s personal choices that may not necessarily “harm” anyone. I fully believe that there is pure evil out there and that should definitely be judged, and dealt with accordingly. But I digress…

The idea has been sort of floating around in my mind since the whole concept of body shaming vs “acceptance” hit social media a while ago. I wonder if society knows that the difference between  really, truly being proud of your body is actually quite different than being insecure and seeking approval from others about it. 

Case in point-Kim Kardashian. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone post so many selfies of themselves as her (except maybe other members of her family) and recently she’s decided to pretty much just stand there naked and take pictures and post them because she’s proud of her body. OK, I get that and let’s say that’s true-why does she need us all to notice? To me, that would actually indicate the opposite, that she is striving to gain approval from the world to fill some sort of insecurity?

Perhaps that is my reasoning because I have struggled it with myself. To veer off topic for a bit, I have many times complained to my mother that no one “liked” my Facebook post. As if that was somehow indicative of my worth as a person. That someone has to find me funny or attractive or intelligent based on something I decide to post online. And like only a mother can, gently soothing the sorrow of her child’s heart my mom responds with “So? Who gives a shit?” Simple, but effective mom-thanks :)

So, now I post things I like or want to say or think are funny (still within my own positive guidelines) and I try really hard not to give a shit what anyone thinks. 

But back to the topic at hand now that I’ve deviated to explain that I am in not immune to either feeling.

So, Kim posts these selfies and many people say she shouldn’t because it’s indecent and where’s the line while other people defend her right to post that she’s proud of her body and accomplishments( I use the term loosely when referring to a Kardashian) and it's her right to do so. I think I tend to fall more within the first group. Whatever the reason you post these things, as someone who can affect people either positively or negatively you need to be conscious of the effect you might have on somebody. There could be a young girl out there who sees that and decides that’s what she needs to do to be liked or that her worth lies in following what Kim does. If I’m that susceptible at my age, even knowing that the world is full of photoshop, filters and plastic surgery, how easy would it be for a young girl to get the wrong impression and think it’s not only all real, but attainable? Now you have a generation of boys being raised to think that women are nothing more than their looks and they have no need to treat them with respect or any kind of courtesy and a generation of girls being raised to think that this is how you get a boy’s attention.

Even last night as I was in my yoga pants, drinking a beer and having some pizza (I cleaned ALL day-I totally deserved it) my roommate had some people over to “pre-drink” as the kids these days call it, before heading out for the evening. I’m sure these young ladies were intelligent, nice, perhaps even funny but I’m not going to lie- ALL I saw was T&A.  Like a LOT of it- enough that I had to retreat to my room because there was nowhere else to look and I was starting to feel kind of like a perv.  I would like to think that they are a bunch of confident young ladies heading out for a girl’s night on the town intent on having their own fun regardless of what other circumstances the evening may bring. But to be honest- that’s just not the impression that I got. And because these ladies are 10 years younger than me, it actually made me very sad because they’re learning to be adults in a world where exposing yourself like that is the "correct" way to get attention. Could I be totally wrong in my assumption? Absolutely! I don’t think I am though.

Does this mean I don’t think you should ever take a selfie or post a photo of yourself because you think you look pretty or you feel good about yourself-not in the least. Post away! But you can be just as proud of how your body looks with clothes on as without and just as proud looking in your own mirror as posting online.

If a man walks around on the street with his junk hanging out, chances are he’s going to get tagged for indecent exposure. So how then is it any different for a woman such as Kim Kardashian to walk around in essentially a mesh shower curtain with all her bits showing? Just because you have the “right” to do something doesn’t mean you should. Does this mean I go out in a turtle neck and long skirts-no, of course not. But there's a line people!

OR… maybe I’m just a big ol prude and don’t understand the difference between what today’s women call confidence and low self esteem.

Anyway, that’s my two cents…..I’d be curious to know if I’m alone in my thinking? If I am, maybe I’m the one that needs to change?

Thanks for stopping by…..

Here we go ‘round the mulberry bush…..

So, it’s been about nine months since my last post and although some interesting things have happened, most people probably wouldn’t be that interested.

So, what I decided to write about today is Tinder. It’s a crapshoot even on its best day. At least it is for me. I have heard stories of people who’ve met their “soul mates” on it, but I’ve never actually seen any of these people, nor heard them shouting from the rooftop “I found my true love in a catalogue like application where we are judged solely on how we look!”

This however has not stopped me from participating. The problem I’ve had with most of the men though is that they are a) chicken shits who won’t message the girl first and b) nobody is looking for anything “serious”-which I get, it’s Tinder.

I was comfortable in that knowledge and have basically used the app to talk to people and fill up some time in my evenings.

Then came along Antonio …..

His name isn’t really that but you get the gist…super good looking, successful, Latin and….

ONE OF THE CREEPIEST DUDES I HAVE EVER SPOKEN TO!!

I’ve talked to my fair share of dummies and assholes but never someone who has totally changed my point of view of them in one day.

Let me tell you what happened:

Tinder: “Congratulations you have a match” followed immediately by a hello from him. I think that’s off to an ok start because most guys don’t even say hi. So small talk happens for a bit and it’s going ok and then “give me your number” to which I replied “um no” More small talk, felt a little more comfy so ended up giving it out (thank GOD there is call blocking) with the warning that if I get a shot of his junk I’m outie.

Much to my surprise conversation continued ok for a bit. He calls me “babe”, I freak out and then think oh maybe that’s like a culture thing, I guess I’ll let it slide” Then he says “let me phone you” (do people use the phone anymore?) I say “OK give me five minutes” to which he immediately phones. Ok now I’m starting to get a little pissed off. So he phones and we chat for a bit and it was super awkward and that’s why people prefer texts.

Go about my business of the day and later on I get a text from Antonio.  So small talk continues and I’m noticing he’s actually quite bossy and pushy and I DON’T LIKE THAT!! So I chat for a bit, ignoring his creepy comments as best I can, thinking how to end the conversation because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.  Even creepy people could have them.

Just some of the comments I let slide:

“It is babe. Be confident. I know you are and please your man” and yes I’m typing exactly as he did. I indicated I was actually quite confident but wasn’t quite sure what the please your man thing meant. Is it a “do what you say, fetch your slippers kind of thing” or something else; which I later learned meant “make you happy” Slightly less creepy but still odd.

Then there was “I just want you to put in effort like I do to please u” This was after a few short worded answers hoping he would get the hint. By now he has mentioned we should date exclusively and has ordered me to do quite a few things already. This is not flying well with me so I figure I’ll deal with it in the morning and say goodnight

I inform him of this and the response is “Install snapchat, it will be fun to share daily moments” or translation “I want to know where you at all times because you are going to be a piece of property”

Hey Tony- your chauvinism is showing; you might want to at least try to cover it up….

I don’t answer because by now I’m totally turned off from ever speaking to this person again. As my friends and family know-that shit does not fly well with me.

This morning I wake up to two texts from Antonio. 1) Knock Knock  (WTF does that even mean-that’s what someone says before they stab you to death) and the second about 15 mins after “ Already slept babe?”, which I took to mean “are you sleeping yet person I have never met?”

So, needless to say after taking a look to see if somehow he was hiding in my closet, I unmatched him and blocked his number.

Ladies-always trust your gut; I don’t want to see you on Dateline

Of course now that the “trauma” is over, I find the story hilariously funny-hence the posting. Thanks to RG for the idea- it feels great to be writing again.

Thanks for stopping by!

So, stuff happens......

So I’m supposed to be writing my Org Behaviour paper but I got distracted by Facebook and then I realized I hadn’t written an entry in almost a year. That’s a long time for me to go without expressing my opinion on at least something J

A lot has happened in that year. London and I broke up around Christmastime. I tried the whole friends with your ex thing, but it just doesn’t seem to work. Too many hurt feelings and painful reminders. Soo, moving on…

Started a new job in January and it’s amazing what happens to your confidence and self-worth as an employee when you work with a supportive team who has your back and never makes you feel like the scuz on the bottom of a log. I tried for over two years at my previous job to show that I was a capable and even bright employee, but it seems nothing I tried was good enough. So after eroding my self-esteem to that of a paper napkin, I moved on and now I have a really good environment and career path. I’m even taking a few classes at the expense of my employer to really be able to grow in my role.

I took a step back after all this change and realized I had only been re-acting to things as they came my way, but never really looked at what did I really want or need. I spent over a year with London making sure that he was having a “good day” and not upset or pouting that I totally forgot about myself. But as it turns out when someone doesn’t actually want to be in a relationship and is too chicken shit to say so for over a year, there’s really nothing you can do to fix that.

I thought for a while the answer would be to find someone different, someone who would treat me like I should be treated. Like a person of value, whose ideas and opinions mean something. But I definitely chose the wrong platform to pursue that.

Went on more dates than I care to mention and found nothing but creeps and weirdos. Tinder is the devil. Decided to give my hard earned money to a dating website in hope of finding less creeps and weirdos, but turns out they have money too.

So I was just bobbing through life feeling quite lost when mom told me I should read “Women who run with the wolves” by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. I remember seeing it in her bookshelf years ago and even tried to read it but it made no sense to me whatsoever. Mom said I wasn’t ready yet…okay whatever the hell that means.

She said I was ready now. So I think well why not-I could at least give it a try. OMG it was amazing, it was like all these jumbled words and metaphors and stories were in a different language but I could translate it. Things made sooo much sense. It was like it had been written specifically for me. Every story, every metaphor, and every archetype the book presented connected with me. And I felt a shift….

It’s not a book that will make 100% sense and you read it once and you say Okay I’m done now. No, it doesn’t work like that. Just like everything that is worth doing or obtaining, it requires work on your part and the work is constant. But once it becomes embedded in you, it should get easier and easier.

I know I’ll have to reread it many times and each time I will learn something that I didn’t notice before, but on this first go-around I’m already feeling more and more like I know I should be.

The first part of the book that stuck with me was as early as the introduction, and there is a passage in the book that I revisit often. In speaking about the Wild Woman archetype it’s important to note that when it says wild woman, it does not mean some crazy, unkempt, lunatic who runs around in the trees and doesn’t speak. Rather it refers to the part of women that is innate and is our basic nature and the part of our soul that just “knows things”

“Without her, women are without ears to hear her soultalk or to register the chiming of their own inner rhythms. Without her, women’s inner eyes are closed by some shadowy hand, and large parts of their day are spent in a semi-paralyzing ennui, or else wishful thinking. Without her, women lose the sureness of their soul footing. Without her, they forget why they’re here, they hold on when they would be best to hold out. Without her they take too much or too little or nothing at all. Without her they are silent when they are in fact on fire” (Estes, 1997)

It was kind of like a light bulb, aha moment, bucket of cold water and a shock to the gut all at once. I knew then that I had lost my wild woman and I was bloody well going to get her back.

To rebuild your intuition and instincts takes practice, and that’s what I’m currently working on. Once I master that, hopefully I won’t take that job that berates me or end up with that partner who doesn’t want to be one.

I can go back to dancing in the rain like I did when I was a kid.

Thanks for stopping by

Works Cited

Estes, C. P. (1997). Women who run with the wolves. New York: Ballantine Books.

If I still worked in the service industry I would likely be fired…..

Warning: If you happen to be a parent who thinks there is nothing in life your child could ever do wrong, and that we should all worship the fact that you've had a child - then this is not the post for you.

The idea for this little rant came to me last week or so when London came home and said he’d seen adults yell at Tim’s workers, but he’d never seen a child do it. While that in itself is a bit disturbing, what I find even more so is that the child’s parents were standing there with smirks on their faces.  The kid asked for a certain flavor drink and got a different kind. He proceeded to say to the Tim’s worker “I asked for A flavor, this is B flavor…what are you stupid?” This child was maybe 8-

My first thought was “What the hell is wrong with people that they would not only stand for but seem to nurture this kind of behavior” My second thought was “If I was that Tim’s worker, I would have been fired”

I worked at McDonalds from the age of 16 to about 20 while I was in school. It was not a glamorous job by any stretch. My head was too small for the visor causing it to consistently fall over my eyes. I had so many burns I lost track and my car smelled like cheeseburger onions for 4 years. Of course I had my share of rude customers, but nothing in my four years as bad as that.

Those of you who know me best know that I have an opinion on almost everything J and that I can be very direct. There’s only so much a service worker can take, and I’m pretty sure that would have been my moment.

Various daydream scenarios would have run in my head like perhaps looking at the parents and saying “What is wrong with you? Your child is just a little guy and is already that rude-he likely talks to you like that at home, and you let him. In 10+ years when he is the workforce and can’t handle the competition of work and criticism from management-that will be your fault. I hope you enjoy him living in your basement until he’s 40 because he can’t hold down a job”

Option B would have been my favorite, but I likely would have been charged with some form of child abuse (as I understand it, today’s parents aren't even supposed to look at their kids funny….) “Listen here you entitled little shit- you may be able to talk to your parents like that but I will not tolerate it. People make mistakes and it’s up to us to be understanding and not demanding. How would you like it if I said to you that you ordered wrong because you’re stupid? Not very fun is it! Your parents may not be teaching you but you should be treating people with respect-especially people who are older than you! Now do you have something to say to me?”

But likely before I got the words out of my mouth I’m sure mommy and daddy would have stepped in and berated me for damaging the self-esteem of their precious child.

I’m not a parent so I can’t speak to how to raise a child or how to discipline them, but I know how I was raised and it was to be polite when speaking to an elder, say please and thank you, old people always get the chairs, failing at something doesn't mean you’re a failure at life; there is just somebody that is better at that particular skill and that’s ok. Work hard for your money. Be grateful for what you have, there are others are always worse off than yourself, the wooden spoon will break in half on your ass and lastly-your parents brought you into this world, they can take you out….

Thanks for stopping by…

So….dating makes you fat….

        

When I first met London, I had successfully lost all the weight I needed too, pretty much kicked my sugar addiction and was happy with the number I saw on the scale.  Give or take a few pounds of course.

Then I started seriously dating London, and before I knew it, the pounds started creeping back in. Slowly though so you don’t notice at first. You just think…hmm, my belly looks a little puffy. Probably should not go out to eat so much. But when you’re dating, that seems to be one of the major activities. We’d go out for dinner and a movie and there would be fries and deep fried goodness, then candy and chocolate at the theater. It never occurred to me that the pounds were just hanging out in the background, waiting to pounce.

Nov 2013-I’m at my goal weight, I’m happy, I can fit into a size I never thought I’d be able to. I feel good, life is grand. I meet London and we have a few drinks and a few meals and…

Jan 2014-Okay so I’m up like 5-big deal. That’s just because of Christmas. Who doesn’t love Christmas goodies? As many chocolates as you can shove in your pie hole (mmmm pie), and sugar cookies, shortbread cookies, ginger molasses cookies, cakes, tarts….I’m sorry what was I talking about? Oh yeah-my pants don’t fit as well anymore. Whatever, I can still squeeeeze into them.

Mar 2014-Okay so it’s like another 5. I can clearly control my junk food intake, I just don’t want to, yeah that’s it. I don’t want to….damn, my pants don’t fit. Good thing I saved a pair that’s one size bigger! Ha-fooled you box of cookies- I’m in bigger pants now so I can continue to Godzilla you and your little friends

.

Apr 2014-Okay, so maybe this is becoming a bad habit….the bigger pants are a bit snug and my tummy is a bit rounder. I really need to take care of this….oh what’s that London? You love me no matter how I look? Well crap…oooooh look -crème brule!!!

June 2014-Well I’ve gained a total of 15 pounds and although that might not seem like much to some people, to someone who struggled hard to lose 50, it’s not a good feeling. It makes you feel like you no longer have control of something you fought so hard to conquer. It is so EASY to just say, well 15 who cares, 25 is still smaller than I was and then boom you’re back where you were or heavier.

So, London and I have started to make changes together. Small ones at first, and then gradually work our way to where I was in November. I’m laying off the junk food-sugar and white flour etc and London has started running and cutting back on alcohol.

I’m currently on day 3 of my sugar detox and quite frankly, I’d like to kill someone. I have a headache, horrible cravings and my brain misses my chocolate…I’d forgotten what it was like to get back on the strict train. It’s going to be a long week but 3 down, 12 more to go!

Disclaimer: please understand that no one but me has shoveled sugary desserts down the hatch, but I maintain it is a lot harder with another person around

The times, they are a changin’

I find myself busier these days than I used to be. So I decided to just take a minute and write about something that I have a love/hate relationship with-

Moving! 

Just the word itself makes my skin crawl and my insides get all knotted up because I know how “fun” it can be! Unfortunately, I have way more experience with packing and moving than I’d care to admit. Since the first move from the farm into the big “city” of St. Albert at 13, I have moved a total of 24 times (including changing apartments etc) and the last week in April will be lucky #25….I know there are likely going to be more moves in my future but for now I’d like to think I will die in my new condo…

As I was writing out the list to figure out how many times I’ve moved I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all! And I can’t even begin to tell you how many times my dear ol’ dad has had to lug my stuff around for me because I had itchy feet-

I’m sorry dad-that was terrible of me to always call you and say “I want to move” but like the very most excellent father you are, you always came to help even though every time was “the last time” I’m happy to say that this time you do not have to help as London and I got it covered. This does not mean that I am happy to be carrying little boxes of crap and stuff, but happy that you don’t have to participate.

At least in the new condo, we will have access to an elevator, so it won’t be as horrible as I think….(hopefully)

I suppose that is another new thing for me. Actually owning the place I live in. Well kind of owning. I am right now sharing it with London and the bank but I can put a hole in the wall if I want to. OMG not that I want to….my new walls are sooo nice and cleeaaan.

I am quite looking forward to actually being able to decorate my space how I want to and pick my own colors and art and a bunch of other shit that I don’t know about yet J

In this year of “firsts” I will also be living DT Edmonton. I have been a St. Albert girl for a long time, and anyone who knows me knows that it’s the place I kept coming back to the most. People say “Oh you’re from Edmonton?”, and I say “NO, I’m from St. Albert” “Oh- is there a difference?” “YES!”

But still- it will be really nice this summer to have access to all the places that are beautiful in Edmonton without having to drive and being able to do a patio drink or two without figuring how much it’ll be to get back home etc. The really nice thing is that I get to share it with London. We have had two very different upbringings and experiences and in some ways are TOTAL opposites, but it totally works for us. He shows me cool things I never knew about such and such place and I’m trying to show him a few domestic things. Like how to cook. He made KD for himself the other night and I was such a proud GF J

Soon I will graduate him into some pan work and maybe even an oven lesson or two!

It’s a new exciting chapter!!!

Valentine’s Day…..

In my 32 years on this planet, I have never actually been with anyone on Valentine’s Day up until this year.  (Oh C’mon it’s not thaaaat sad-sometimes timing just doesn’t work out, and you can’t count being in elementary school when you are forced to give Valentines to other kids)

Anyhooo-that’s about to change tomorrow. I’m actually going to be celebrating V day with London. Don’t get me wrong- I’m very excited, but I’m excited every day I get to spend with him, so what’s the difference?

I will be making dinner for us, and drinking wine and eating chocolate…..so in other words-every other day I have spent with London… (Ok slight exaggeration- I don’t drink every day)

So I’m not sure why all these years, I had thought I was missing something?

I remember when I was in elementary school, every kid got at least one card from someone else-things were fairly even and I don’t remember anyone complaining they didn’t have any friends or nobody liked them.

Then along came junior high. Now for those people who actually “dated” (I use the term loosely), things graduated to maybe a flower or candy/chocolates. I vaguely remember heart-o-grams or something like that where you sign a piece of paper shaped like a heart and send it to someone you like. Nothing quite like sitting in class when they’re delivered-and you watch so and so get 5 and you get none. Way to cultivate the kids’ self-esteem (insert school name here)-kudos……

High School- This is where I really began to hate V day because I definitely thought I was missing something.  And maybe in a sense I was, but certainly not enough to warrant the diary entry “Happy FU*@ing Valentines’ Day” (yes that was a real entry).But of course when you’re 16 everything is super important and if you don’t have friends or anything, you might as well just find a train and hop in front….ahhh hormones…how I miss you….

Then in adulthood, things started to change. I’m now a grownup-and I don’t have to be reminded of this day anymore! Except for Cupids, Hearts, Chocolates, Cards, Signs for Dinner Reservations, Signs for little parties, anything pink or red, Arrows, People who are smiling, People holding hands, people skipping, people….Sorry what was I saying??

So now that I get to experience it, and realize that it really is just a day, my viewpoint has of course, changed. I realize now that you don’t need to wait until Feb 14^th to show someone you love them (nor should you!); you can do it anytime you like because it’s not the “day” that makes it special, it’s the person you are with J

Have a great “day” everyone! (and Happy Bday Crys!)

xo