Tag Archives: selflove

Still Wild At Heart

13 Feb

woman

Something has happened to me and I didn’t see it coming.   If I analyzed each component of this realization individually I might not have come to the same conclusion.  It is the combination of all components which made me go ‘WOW’ something has happened.

Clue #1: I am currently sitting at the gate for my flight 2 hours early. I am actually at the gate.   That means I arrived at the airport 2 hours and 30 minutes before my flight.  I’ve never been one to stress greatly about time when it comes to getting to the airport – I like to get there in the shortest amount of time without being considered late.  One hour. I am not one for waiting around when waiting around isn’t necessary.  I am normally the last one getting on the plane as I want to spend the least amount of time possible jammed into my seat.  Although in recent times getting on the plane early has its merits since most everyone brings an excessive amount of checked luggage and if you don’t get on early there is no room left.   But let’ focus on me arriving early to the airport.

Clue #2: Practicality when it comes to fashion is not my jam. In spring, summer and fall my Carrie Bradshaw ways to do not cause any issues.  Enter winter.  In the past, I’ve been known to wear heels in a snow storm, and one winter, when I lived in Toronto, I survived with a jean jacket as I couldn’t find a winter jacket I liked enough.  I was willing to suffer through the cold all in the spirit of avoiding being ‘not-fashionable’.  I subjected myself to salt stains on shoes and frozen appendages by choice.   As I sit here at my gate 2 hours before my flight I can’t help but take account of what I am wearing.  I have a stylish winter jacket and on my feet… rubber boots.  Granted they are not regular rubber boots – they look like leather boots and they are a chic moto style.  It made me think even further – I did not even pack a pair of heels for this trip.  A pair of booties with a heel (but not heels).  Socks can be worn with the booties.

Clue #3: Last night (and most nights) before I went to bed I cleansed my face. I exfoliated.  I removed my eye make-up.  I moisturized.  I moisturized my neck.  When I woke up this morning I didn’t have yesterday on my face and red lipstick on my pillow.

Clue #4: Last Friday night when I arrived in Toronto I stayed with one of my girlfriends. Traditionally we could jump right into socializing and sleep very little.   I had a very busy week leading up to my departure and knew we had plans on Saturday night with a big group of girlfriends.  I found myself saying – I am fine to stay in and get a good sleep in order to be fresh for tomorrow.  What?  Did I actually say that?  Let’s stay in so we can be fresh for tomorrow.  I think most anyone who knows me would say I am a social creature who would rarely miss out on an opportunity to fraternize.  Especially when there could be hot men found.  ESPECIALLY when there could be hot men found.

Clue #5: Prior to my departure for this trip I had my laundry done a day early. I packed with strategy vs an eleventh hour throw together. I had cleaned out my fridge as I was leaving for 10 days.  I put the garbage and compost out.  I got my nails done the day before.  I left the key in the cupboard outside of my doorway in case someone needed to stay there was I was gone.  My departure was organized.

(I had to stop writing at this point as my flight was boarding)

On my flight home I had an older woman from Newfoundland seated beside me.  There were no TV screens on the plane to be distracted by andshe was up for some chatting, so we gabbed and laughed for most of the flight.  We covered a lot of subjects: travel, health, relationships, online dating, adoption, death and Trump (of course).  I roared at some of the funny things she said.  When talking about a friends daughter she said ‘Anna was looking for a man and let’s just say she wasn’t picky’.  At the end of the flight she said to me ‘Well, how lucky was I to sit by you.  What an interesting person you are and life you have.  You’re just so much fun – I haven’t laughed like that in awhile.’  And I said the same to her.

So when I put it all together: early to the airport, wearing appropriate clothing, a consistent skin care routine, choosing to be fresh over hunting for men and having my place perfectly organized prior to my departure. I have become sensible.  I need to find a better term for it – like some women who do not want to be called Grandma, being called sensible doesn’t resonate well with me.  Mature, grounded, evolved.    There is no sexy substitute for it.  I’ve resolved that just because I am on time, wearing waterproof shoes and feeling well rested does not mean that I am boring. I may have become more sensible in my ways, but as my seatmate recognized I’ve not lost my wild heart.

“Being tame is what we’re taught: … put the crayons back, stay in line, don’t talk too loud, keep your knees together, nice girls don’t…
As you might know, nice girls DO, and they like to feel wild and alive. Being tame feels safe, being wild, unsafe. Yet safety is an illusion anyway. We are not in control. No matter how dry and tame and nice we live, we will die. And we will suffer along the way. Living wild is its own reward.”  S.A.R.K.

Authenticity: the courage to be yourself

21 Oct

self-pic

Earlier this week I attended a women’s empowerment/networking event and directly after that I scooted over to a fundraiser where a famous Canadian cook book author was speaking.  I didn’t think the two events would collide topic wise but they did.  The author didn’t speak about creating recipes or testing them – she focussed on talking about loving yourself, believing in yourself, following your instincts and having a sense of humor along the way.  She continued to talk about the psychology of getting skinny/being skinny – it is a whole lot harder to do when you have negative thoughts in your head about yourself and you’re hanging onto things that happened to you in the past.

I was born with a very large mole on the side of my face.  Not just a flat one, but a raised one with hair and a nice brown ring around it which made it even bigger.  Awesome, just what you want on your cheek.   I had a very special grandfather – he was a big gentle giant type and even though he passed away suddenly when I was 7,  I can still clearly remember him.  He would tell me that my mole was my beauty mark and it made me different from others.  I believed him.  I also have 3 older brothers who loved to, ummm, what words should I use, mentally torture me when we were kids.  After Grandpa passed away I only recall hearing them say I had shit on the side of my face and a rat was going to come gnaw it off when I was sleeping.  Kids would point in the grocery store and ask their parents ‘What is on her face?’  The parents would say ‘shhhh’ and awkwardly steer their finger pointing kid away.  I ended up having the mole taken off when I was 13 as it presented quite a risk for skin cancer  (and I hated it).  As much as I hated that mole it helped me develop a thick skin at a young age and also feel empathy towards others who looked a little different.   I hit puberty pretty early and when it hit I got big boobs and some blubber overnight.  That blubber has not been easy to lose.  I love food – I get great JOY from a delicious meal shared with others.  My metabolism isn’t the same as some of my girlfriends who can seemingly eat whatever they want, not exercise a whole lot and still be a size 4.  A few years ago when I climbed Mt Kilimanjaro I lost 5 pounds.  Yup.  Everyone else was like ‘oh my god I can barely keep my pants up with the training and then 6 days on the mountain’.  I’ve learned to stop comparing myself to others who are not like me.  I walk at least 8 km a day: if I wanted to be a size 4 and not an 8,  I would have to run 20 km a day, only eat air or maybe get a tape worm.  But then I wouldn’t have big boobs and would probably wish I had bigger ones as it seems girls who are flat want some.  So you know what, I still have a scar on my face from that mole,  I have big boobs and a bit of a muffin top, but I try to love what I got and work with it.  There are so many other more important things to think about.  And honestly, I always find girls who are overly concerned with what they eat and what they look like… boring and not all that much fun anyway.

I also have a very loud voice.  My parents, in fact, thought I was deaf when I was kid and took me to get my hearing tested.  Nope, I clearly heard all of the buzzes and beeps that the audiologist tested me with.  My hearing is fine.  My voice is just loud or as teachers would put it nicely ‘it projects well’.  In grade 3 we had an old Battle-axe substitute teacher for a few weeks as Mrs MacDoanld (our oh so lovely teacher) had a pneumonia.  This was just before our Christmas concert which was such an enormously exciting night for someone like me – getting up on a stage was my jam.  We had to rehearse our songs with the mentioned Battle-axe.  So we got into our spots and started to sing.  She stopped everyone and pulled me out.  She had my class continue to sing without me.  At the end she said something like ‘that is how the songs are supposed to sound.  You are too loud and you’re ruining it’.  Just as I can recall my Grandpa making me feel so special – I can also recall clearly how small and completely embarrassed she made me feel.  But ya’ want to know what… I shook it off because even at that young age I recognized that her opinion was not one I respected and my Mom/Dad would have told me to just go and be yourself – she doesn’t matter.   I went to that Christmas concert in a dress that I loved (I’ve always had a love for fashion) and I sang my bloody heart out.

I’ve always loved to talk. I have a fascination with other people and love learning new things.  As a kid I was told to be quiet.  A lot.  You know that old rule about children should be seen and not heard.  That rule stinks. I used to love going visiting with my Mom as I got to hear and participate in adult conversations.  In fact, I did a speech for 4-H when I was maybe 12 called Born to Talk and that speech won me a provincial championship.   It seems my loud voice (which projects well) is great for public speaking and my love of talking is too.  Yeah baby!   When I feel my most authentic self it is when I am connecting with others and having great conversation.  I am not quiet and being quiet doesn’t bring me contentment.

I really enjoy Elizabeth Gilbert.  Not the Eat, Prey, Love stuff (I didn’t even get through the eating end of things), but some of her guest articles and blog entries really get me jazzed.  One in particular had me nodding while I was reading it.  Life isn’t about what happens to you. Life is about how you perceive and react to what happens to you.  A lot of the things which I was criticized for as a kid are my greatest assets as an adult.  I generally care little about what others think about me – after all what you think of yourself is far more important than what others think about you.   I choose to spend time with people who like to build others up (that includes my brothers – they don’t mentally torture me anymore) and not the types who tell people what they ‘should be like’.  Unsolicited advice from people who are not inspiring is never beneficial.   Yesterday the CEO of the organization I work for (who is someone I greatly admire for always being true to who she is) posted a great quote and it reminded me of a quote I love by F. Scott Fitzgerald

“She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful.”

So ladies and gentlemen (that’s right this isn’t just for women).   The last page of O Magazine is always a column by Oprah called What I Know For Sure.  I will close this in Oprah Style.  What I know for sure is: that we all have insecurities, we all have body bits which we don’t love and we’ve all had cruddy things happen to us.  But we all have amazing and unique bits about us, we all have totally gorgeous parts of us and we’ve all had wonderful things happen to us.  The more you focus on your talents, what you like about yourself and the positive things in your life – the more confident you will feel, the sexier you will look and I can guarantee amazing things will continue to happen to you.  As I was told so many times before- just be yourself. If you have kids hammer that into their heads.  Your life is your story.  Make it one others want to read.