Coming to Terms with Your Fat

I had a conversation with my 7 year old last night. In the course of it, I told him that mommy was fat. He shrugged his shoulders and said so what. I explained to him that some people think fat people are ugly. He replied that those people were crazy and need to go back to kindergarten, it’s what is inside that counts. I bought him a puppy…okay, I didn’t buy him a puppy, we already have a St. Bernard, but I beamed inside, kissed him and told him that I thought he was a kind and wonderful little boy.

I’m a 34 year old mom of three boys, 5’5 and 200lbs. I identify as fat to my kids because I want them to see a face with the word fat and that face is going to be of the person who loves them dearly. Every time they’re directed to see fat as something awful, they’re going to see dear old mom, who as moms go, is a pretty cool person, or at least so I think.

As most women I struggle with body image issues, but more and more, I find myself accepting of my body. It’s strong, it’s healthy, it’s given me three beautiful children, it keeps a licking and keeps on ticking and I’m sometimes convinced I have Wolverine type healing powers.

I think it’s important to come to terms with my own body issues in order for my kids not to have them, but also to think twice before buying into fat shaming or a societal ideal of beauty. While they may not face the level of scrutiny of weight management that girls and women face-though the pressure is mounting for men, if many years from now they decide that girls don’t have cooties, it’s important for them to not only tolerate body diversity, but to accept and value it.

So I’ve made a list for myself to come to terms with my weight, which works more than not, hopefully some will see some wisdom in this list or be inspired to make an even better one.

1.       Find stuff you are good at.

I was in my class with my fellow students and we were discussing something which prompted some pretty nasty comments about fat girls and sexuality and apparently we have a hard time getting laid. It initially hurt my feelings, but after having my two cents and essentially putting those making fun of weight in their place, I remembered that I was one of the top students in that class. I’m damn good at school. I’m also good at writing, raising kids, doing my job, cooking, dog training, swimming and bouncing back from shitty situations.

2.       Find something physical you are good at.

This isn’t so much for exercise-though I will attest to it being a great anxiety killer, but to be connected with your body. Knowing what your body can do and working on building that skill set reminds you that there are reasons to love your body, it gives you confidence in it. Whether you go it alone, or take classes, try to find something you can do. Also, by all means, find size positive classes, trainers, teachers, role models etc.

3.       Find size positive friends.

No, the friendship doesn’t have to be focused strictly on being size positive, but don’t spend all your time with people who body hate their own or others bodies. I have friends who are great, but at least once a week the conversation turns to body hating and I tune out, walk away, find something else to do. I’m heavier than all of them and to hear them complain about how fat they are, doesn’t exactly put me in the right frame of mind for feeling confident in my body, because that kind of nonsense is as contagious as ebola. In another group of friends, we get together regularly and snack on all sorts of goodies, we rarely talk about weight loss and/or working out for the sake of getting thinner, it’s a safe place to just chill and enjoy company and something yummy.

4.       Same goes for your partner.

My previous partner always told me I was beautiful, but it was hard to believe when his head was turning at petite women and physical activity between us was minimal. My current partner says it and backs it up.  His actions towards me reinforces that he finds me very attractive physically and mentally. He never misses a moment to tell me that I’m beautiful or smart or funny or a pain in the ass. (I admit, that’s often, but it’s just me being cute).

5.       Find size positive media.

I’m not talking about finding a group of people who revere fat, and certainly not those people who fetishize it, but in terms of media, images we take in, messages we internalize. Reading Cosmo not only will kill your brain cells as fast as aspartame (get rid of that shit too, it’s really bad for you), but it doesn’t send the message that body diversity is normal. Nor is listening to female musicians who gripe about their size 2 body. My favourite musician is ripped, with what I noticed a mommy pouch we all seem to inherit after having kids. She makes no apologies for not buying into the traditional norm of what is being a woman and encourages others through her songs to look outside the box. Bonus points for swearing a lot too. But there is media out there, more and more size positive blogs, celebrities, models, clothing companies. Support them, write in, buy, tell them to keep it up, because lets be real, media affects us all, and we need to find stuff that represents us in all our glory.

6.       Find something you like about your body and play it up.

I’ll tell you one thing, I might be one of the heavier gals in my various groups, but I am the one with the best goddamned hair this side of Canada!  I can also wield these big brown eyes as well as any sweet puppy, kitten or whatever cute thing that makes your heart turn to mush and fall under my control.  It is important to like parts of your body until you love all of it. Find those parts, spoil them rotten, play them up and don’t you dare feel guilty about it.

7.       Focusing on the outward still, find the right clothes, shoes, purses.

With more and more stores catering to plus sized women, it’s getting easy to find some awesome clothes instead of wearing shapeless things or something matronly. Find the right dress, the right fit (something you feel comfortable in!), the right lingerie, the right shoes and a killer purse doesn’t hurt. Can you tell I’m a girly girl? If you’re not into that stuff, find something that makes you look good. Hell if it’s a Harley, more power to you.

8.       Back to the inside, do not tie negative baggage to your weight.

Have an ex that left you for a model? It would be pretty easy to tie that to you being too fat, instead of examining the deeper roots of your relationship breakdown, or that your ex is just a jerk. Have parents who would constantly harp on your weight? Fuck ‘em and their parenting fail. You are right here, right now. You need to find a way to let that shit go because more than cellulite and extra fat, that weighs you down. The key here is to feel good about yourself right? I’m not saying it’s easy, but find things to reinforce your awesomeness. Positive friends, doing a job well done, a good therapist, hobbies, whatever works for you, I’m not going to say yolo because that’s stupid, but we only have a limited time on this mortal coil, making a decision that you’re going to fight for yourself to be happy, is probably one of the best ones you will make.

9.       Accept compliments.

For some dumb reason women have been conditioned to downplay ourselves. If someone tells you, you did a good job on something, say thank you and internalize THAT. If someone says you look beautiful, say thank you. I can see my partner rolling his eyes at this one because I seriously need to work on that. Chances are, if enough people are saying it, it’s true, so quit second guessing. I promise, I’ll try to take me own advice on this one.

10.   Enjoy.

Think you’re too fat to go out dancing with your friends, flirting with people, having sexy time with your partner (or some random stranger if that floats your boat) or enjoy a nice meal at a restaurant or go to the gym, the park, a fall fair? WRONG! If your body can do it and you look at it objectively and think once you put away all that negative shit about your size, you’ll have a good time, then go for it. I went to a concert earlier this year wearing a cute pink dress that was sleeveless and came up just above the knee. I was with friends, at an awesome concert, having the time of my life, you better believe I was up dancing. And you know what? Nobody cared that the fat chick was dancing and singing. Everyone in that stadium was having a great time. And if anyone did care, sucks to be them wasting a great concert worrying about the fat chick dancing.

From early on in life, we are fed a very strict diet of what constitutes beauty, but with more and more people connecting via social media and the internet, we also live in an exciting time where people are challenging that. There is backlash to be sure, but it’s also empowering to read and write and hear and see fat positive people who aren’t apologetic for existing. Explore that, enjoy it, learn from it and let it bring out the strength in you.

All these little mixed babies

So a few weeks ago, there was a Cheerios commercial, said commercial portrayed a mixed race family, black dad, white mom, and cute little curly haired kid. Of course, this caused a lot of racist people to loose their shit and take to the Internet to share their special brand of unenlightened stupidness with the rest of the world. Smarter people then came back with their own campaigns to fight the hatred and show that it is possible to have happy mixed race families and all the racists should shut the hell up.

Agreed! As a mixed race person, I don't really like it when people hate on me and my interracial kin. That said, this whole brouhaha left me with an uneasy feeling. Not so much about the racists, they're always going to be around and it's old hat, but the whole romanticizing of biracial love and families  left me with my eyes rolling. But I couldn't for the life of me put my finger on the exact reason...that is, until I popped onto Facebook today and saw this.

Kate Gosselin Responds to Controversy Sparked by 'Asian Impression' Photo

Okay, so maybe it's old news, but it smacked me right on the head of why I was so annoyed with the biracial utopia family glurge going on.Now granted the whole Gosselin parents are morons in my books, as evidenced by this quote by Kate:

"It's normal to talk about and even 'exaggerate' the feature differences between family members of a biracial family as they are noticed by curious growing children within the family. These types of discoveries and at home discussions are a normal part of being a loving, accepting, biracial family and it does not make any of us prejudiced!"

And she went on to say that she is the last person to be called a racist.

Bullshit! PSA to Kate and anyone else in a biracial relationship, no matter whether you don't have any kids, have a few, have a clan, you can still indeed be racist. Imitating a gesture that has been used to hurt a group of people that your children belong to is not okay. My mom didn't run around in blackface to exagerrate our differences, surprisingly our differences can be discussed with our children without resorting to racist gestures, stereotypes, language.

This touches on why I felt so annoyed. There are too many people running around thinking that they get a "get out of jail for being a racist moron free" card simply because they have fallen in love, or fucked a person of a different race. This happens in circles of people where it is crudely illustrated such as Kate Gosselin, and it happens in circles where people consider themselves more progressive or enlightened.

I recall one time sitting with a biracial couple and the white male of the two went on to describe a Chinese tradition. It didn't sound quite right with me, and his wife gently and politely corrected him. Instead of thanking her for clarifying, he got upset. He didn't think it was okay for her to intervene. That he was trying to explain it and her correcting him was why he didn't want to learn about her culture. All I'm thinking is, how dare she politely correct him on HER cultural traditions. In fact, since I lack a filter sometimes, I may or may not have sarcastically said that.

Now don't get me wrong, I know so many biracial families that are doing it right. They respect one another's culture and do their best to bring their kids up in an enriched environment, while at the same time trying to shield them from morons who go apeshit bananas over a cereal commercial. I even know a family who adopted a child outside of their culture and they regularly expose him to cultural events. To those people, my hat is off. Kudos! As an biracial person, raising biracial kids I salute thee.

That said, there are way too many people who think that mixing races is a sign of some post racial harmony and they are automatically completely aware of racism and how it affects people. I once had a white woman, while talking about racism told me she knew how I felt because her little one was mixed. Um, okay, no. She then proceeded to tell me her ideas of how I should care for my hair and made a move to touch it! Now in her dealings with the black community, how she missed the pretty big fucking memo that touching our hair without explicit permission is a no-no is beyond me, but it illustrates the problem with some people who are in biracial relationships. 

And don't get me started on the exoticising of biracial children. If I had a penny for each time someone has told me that they wanted a mixed or "mulatto" or "half breed" child. Speaking as a former biracial child, despite my greatness, it is not due to the fact that I an a "half breed". I grew up confused, pressured to choose one side or another, discriminated against by members of my extended family, it's not always an easy thing growing up straddling different worlds. I'm not saying its the worst, but if that Cheerios commercial has taught us anything, is that there are a hell of a lot of people not willing to welcome us biracial people with open arms.

So let me say this. First of all, if you find yourself chasing a particular race because of some fetishization, knock it off, it's annoying and racist. Go take a cold shower or something and learn a thing or two about what you are chasing to see if it matches up with your beliefs...chances are, it won't.

Otherwise, if you find yourself in a relationship with a person of a different race, religion, culture, keep in mind that that doesn't automatically make you an authority of that culture, racism or some post-race utopia that doesn't exist simply because you have mated with someone a different skin tone. Be open to the fact that you can still be racist, if you're white have white skin privilege, and learn about race and racism so you don't end up doing something dressing up in black face or slanting your eyes. Understand that while some gestures or words may seem harmless, they have a long history of being used to harm people. Be prepared to be called on stuff if you're wrong. Learn, learn as much as you can, about traditions, history, religion and culture. If you raise a family, you are embarking on a journey that requires more learning and growth than it would if you were with someone of the same race/culture, so nurture and grow with your children and the realities they will face growing up in a binary world, straddling a very clearly marked line that according to many, should not be crossed.

Letter to Mike Jeffries

So here's the news article that inspired this rant.

Dear Mike,

Hi, my name is Joy. I'm solidly a size 14, 16 depending on the maker. A week and a half ago, it came out that you mentioned that you don't want women, or girls my size wearing clothes. We're not cool, or pretty, or exclusive enough for your brand.

Well, really, lets just be honest, we're not thin enough for your brand. No fat people allowed. Got it. Lots of people have written letters shaming you (well deserved imo) but I'm not going to do that, I'm just going to point out that you're in fantasy land dude.

You equate being fat with being ugly, unpopular, uncool. Well I admit, I don't know a lot about pop culture and if you give me a choice of listening to Drake or Rihanna vs the 80's, the latter is going to win. That may be uncool in your books, but really, one persons cool is another persons boredom. See, I'd be bored to tears sitting, and talking about ones latest material object, or wine trip, or their latest name drop. I tried that life, it was never my cup of tea. I'd rather talk about social issues, or nerd culture, or get to the depths of someone's twisted humour.

In your world, this would probably have you thinking that I sit at home with fourteen cats, lots of knitting and very little friends. But I have to break it to you, I crochet, I only have two cats (and an awesome snake) and I have a lot of friends. Your next bet is that they're all pathetic losers, but you'd be wrong again. Many of them would probably be people you'd want in your brand, but guess what? They want nothing to do with you. Why? Because of a lovable uncool fat woman like me, and many other lovable uncool fat women like me.

You see, in one fell swoop, you've seriously limited yourself. You assumed that by making the cool kids all the more exclusive, that they'd be great with that, but you're selling a lot of your target market short. I have a lot of "cool" friends and they're appalled with you. They wouldn't touch your brand with a ten foot pole because they're not that shallow. They don't appreciate you dissing the rest of us great unwashed because if you had bothered to stoop so low, you'd find out that we're pretty awesome people. Those of us who are cool with the way we are, we don't put this pressure on people to squeeze into a tiny ideal of coolness. We don't require our friends to be a size 10 and under, and not surprisingly that garners a lot of friends and most importantly, the right type of friends.

I am lucky, I am blessed to have lots of great friends, they come in all shapes and sizes, from all walks of life. They value hard work, honesty and seeing beyond the superficial things in life. They are the type of customer you want because these are quality people, these are people I'd be proud to have to wear my brand, if I had one...I should!

So I'm writing to tell you that you missed the ball big time! Not only have you written off awesome people such as myself, but you have written off awesome people such as my friends who don't take kindly to your fat shaming. It's your loss man, and I'm just someone who works in the undervalued field of helping others in trouble, but it seems to me that it's a pretty dumb marketing move. I can't say I'll cry if your brand goes under, but since I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut, I just thought I'd let you know how I feel and the impact you're having in my little end of the world. Which is to say that beyond this blog post, doesn't affect me much, but it will affect you, hopefully you'll be able to see beyond the dollar signs to understand how, but if not, I'll just have to live that this will teach you a hard lesson financially, and if that's the only way you'll learn from it, so bet it.

Otherwise, I wish you well, I wish you the types of quality people I have in my life in yours, you sure could use them.

Sincerely,

Joy

*Ahem* Toronto Marlies *tap, tap, tap*

Yep, that was my annoyed mom voice and mom toe tapping. So I went to my first Marlies game, it was very pleasant. I'm a Toronto girl and I cheer for my Toronto teams, particularly hockey. Yeah, yeah, insert Leafs joke, I'm a special breed of loyal and crazy, I know.

Anyhow, everyone was in a great mood, the bathrooms didn't have a lineup 40 people deep, concessions were better priced, and they let me keep my caps for my water bottles. It is in the middle of God's nowhere so that's a minus, but for the most part I had a great time.

There is one issue though...cheerleaders. Hockey...Toronto...cheerleaders. They were called a dance troupe, but it's pretty clear they're cheerleaders. Dance troupes spend a lot of time practicing and perfecting and while this isn't a personal slam on these gals, there wasn't much to write home about when it came to their dancing. However, their short shorts, tank tops and sneakers in an area where most people didn't so much as take off their outdoor gear suggested something else together. Because really, if they were there for their dancing, they could have wore way warmer clothes and still would have had to work hard for a sweat. So what I'm saying first is that I don't like being sold a line, just call it what it is, cheerleading.

Secondly, cheerleading...hockey...Toronto. I'm a hockey fan, I know many many many female hockey fans coast to coast of every sort. Can we not go somewhere where we're not reminded of the fact that the female body is constantly meant to be on display for some men stuck in puberty? I cannot think of any place more redonkulous to have women dancing around half clothed and not have it glaringly obvious that this is sexist than at a hockey arena where it is only a few degrees above freezing. I get that the majority of hockey fans in Canada are male, but come on, give us gals a little respect. We're more than puck bunnies and the purveyors of beer and snacks for our beloveds on Saturday nights. Go to my friend's blog Tales From a Hijabi Footballer, tell her the Habs suck and you'll get a good idea of how much us gals love hockey too and it would be nice to be respected when we put money into these franchises by having a place where it is about hockey, not T'N'A and hockey.

Next, how many times do I hear that hockey games are a great family tradition. I dunno about you guys, but I don't feel like bringing my boys to places where gals are freezing their asses off as they swing them around for some insane reason (I'm getting to that). I'm trying to teach my boys how to respect women, and that's very hard when I'm putting money into something that has women in itty bitty clothes, dancing around during some scraps of time in a freezing arena. That's not very respectful to me! My 7 year old asked me why they were dancing around and why weren't they dressed more warmly. I couldn't get into a proper age appropriate diatribe there, but will address it in the morning, in the meantime, I'm burning off steam here.

And you know what is the crazy thing? I watched these girls performing, you know how much attention they got? Zip! I saw another thing, the MC type people started getting a wave going during a break, and it died the moment the game started again. In fact, people were pissed because they were distracted by the wave for a half second and the other team scored. I've watched the strange and funny creature known as the Canadian male. They do like the female variety plenty, but if they're a hockey fan and watching an important game on the tube, or if they are at the game, the gods themselves are hard pressed to distract them, nevermind some gals dancing in itty bitty clothes in a freezing cold arena.

I do understand that there are countless spaces inside a game to squeeze in a little more commercialism in, entertainment in, and I don't have a lot of problem with that, but I do have a problem when it crosses a line of being funny and silly (mascots, dumb contests, even the kissing camera) to being superficial and yet another place where half naked women have to be slipped in, to make money.

So other than that, the night was great, but it's a shame that an otherwise great night was marred by something that really doesn't have a place in hockey, it doesn't have a place anywhere, but considering this is affecting me personally and like every other Canadian hockey fan, I feel I have a stake in hockey and the way games, and the games around the games are conducted.

As "Mixies" go...

So I came across an article which seems to be burning its way through Toronto progressive facebook pages in my network anyhow, it's a Toronto Life article titled "Mixie Me" which is either a love it or hate it type of article by Nicholas Hunh-Brown. Judging by a lot of the comments, it seems hating is winning. I went into it looking for something to be offended by, but I couldn't.

Progressives are pissed off because he suggests that he hopes interracial mixing may have a role in reducing racism and makes some links to something that may point to that eleventy million years in the future. I couldn't see anywhere where he says "OMG! We're mixing, no more racism! Lets sing Ebony/Ivory and Kumbaya together!!!"

Conservatives are pissed off because again, another person who is non-white has the audacity to suggest, "Hey, simply being non-white gets me treated differently" Some dude asking him if the author has done anything productive with his life instead of playing identity politics. Um, commenter? Love it or hate it, the guy is writing for Toronto Life magazine and he seems to enjoy his life and job, so I'd say that's pretty productive.

Ultimately, the good thing, for better or worse, he's got people talking about race, which isn't easy in Canada because it's a topic people will go out of their way to ignore, unless to gloat about making a token friend or something like that. That and there are some interesting little interviews from kids on the topic, which I'm always interested in hearing about their experiences knowing my own. Much to my delight, I came across a kid I knew having attended the same Montessori as my boys. It would have been awesome if they got a picture with her brother, who has some seriously uniquely coloured hair and eyes. And why aren't the kids smiling? They're kids! They don't have to have the Dan Rather look on the topic that we adults do. They shouldn't look like they're about to testify at court. (Okay, petty complaint)

I'm a "mixie" I dunno, I don't like that term, I'm of mixed race. Growing up, my father insisted I was black, I didn't understand that, but granted, what 6 year old has a great grasp on colonial America and slavery, except that it was bad. My mother never really paid any mind. I didn't see another mixed race person in Toronto until I moved to Regent Park in the early 80's. When I moved there, I learned a shocking reality, I wasn't the only one of my kind, well me and Michael Jackson. All kidding aside about his issues with his skin, I was genuinely confused about his race as a kid.

So growing up, I dealt with the usual issues of hair misunderstandings with my mother, myself. I battled my father about me being mixed versus black. I battled off men, still do who fetishize me based on my races. I get to deal with people asking me where I'm REALLY from *eyeroll* or people ascertaining that I'm not really Canadian because I'm not white...stupid them, the non-whites in my family have been around for a hell of a lot longer than whites on this continent thankyouverymuch. I get to deal with the "Oh you're mixed, you're soooooo beautiful/smart/sexy/healthy" as if I wasn't so beautiful 12 seconds ago when they thought I was full blooded whatever the hell they thought I was. As a parent with mixed race children, but who are lighter skinned than me, I get to deal with questions about whether I'm their nanny (usually in areas like High Park, Rosedale, Yorkville, The Beach and the Annex). I get to deal with people wondering about my relationship and whether boyfriend is with me because he's into exoticization.

Biggest complaint, I have to choose sides all.the.freaking.time. There are few places where I can switch accents, colliquolisms, dances, foods, culture and still be accepted. When I'm with certain groups, I dare not break out into black slang and with other groups, I avoid talking about race and racism and how it affects me. When I'm in progressive circles, heaven forbid that I suggest being mixed allows me an interesting look at race and racism...heaven forbid any mixed race person does that. Because ultimately we're never going to have it as bad as this or that race, so we don't know what we're talking about. Or in conservative circles, again, we're told that we're not seen as someone with brown skin because we're just like them and they're colourblind. Um, okay. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't more pissed off at my progressive bretheren for shutting down the voices of mixed race authors, especially since we're supposed to be open to listening to different perspectives. HELLO??

What I think being mixed race has taught me more than anything is that life is not black or white. Yes, while I do identify as a deeply spiritual and deeply progressive person, some of the closest people to me in my life are conservatives in many ways, or atheists. People don't understand that. I travel in circles where I am only allowed to be one person or another. I favour circles where I can be both. While the devil's advocate can piss me off, so long as it's a respectful discourse, I can usually deal and walk away with a smile on my face and likely a new friend. What that has allowed me to do is to make many meaningful connections with a lot of great people.

Think about that, people making meaningful connections with other people because they don't want to be black or white. Because they have forced to be black or white, him or her, progressive or conservative and are sick to death of it. Why can't I be racially mixed, sometimes honouring my black American roots, sometimes honouring my Irish, sometimes honouring my Sioux roots? Why can't I passionately believe in being progressive on issues x, y, and z but think more conservatively on issues a and b? Why can't I think Paganism and Christiannity both have good points? It's not just limited to race, but everything! Why can't a mixed person have an interesting take on racism and dare hope that maybe the mixing of races in our homes and families and close communities can be the beginning of opening up discourse, hearts and minds? I'm sure it can be academiced (new word) to death, and while race theory and advanced thoughts need to be discussed, I'd bet my house that you're just as likely to get through to a closed mind with kind interactions through people as you are with tonnes of theory and there needs to be space in all forums for the recognition for that.

Sound Pollyanna-ish? Yeah probably, but I think throughout history, productive leaders have motivated people to do massive things through 1 of 2 means. Fear or a great deal of respect, and for that great deal of respect, there needs to be that connection whether someone is personally connected or not, they still feel that. And you rarely get a connection with good diverse groups of people by being black or white, but by recognizing that shades of grey isn't a poorly written book, it's life and we need to respect that from various angles, and especially when talking about race, race relations and moving forward.

So this my shout out to listening to people who live in between the binary, whether they have been forced to, or choose to, try to listen, that middle place is uncomfortable for many, but all in all, if we all inhabited it respectfully, I doubt that there would be much space left for those who choose to live or die in the black and white.

I love Pink

Well anyone who knows me, knows that I make no bones about the fact that I'm a girly girl and love the colour pink, red too, but in a household with three small boys a boyfriend, two male (albeit neutered) cats and even the freaking snake being male, pink is not only a colour preference, but it's a stand I have to make to keep something feminine in my home world of Joytopia!

However, I'm not here to discuss colour preferences, I'm here to be far more of a geek and discuss one of my favourite musicians by the same name P!nk. I'm sure hipsters, wannabe hipsters and indie folks are rolling their eyes, but too bad!

I started listening to her at least 10 years ago. I appreciated the fact that her songs looked within, but at the same time provided social commentary, a great energy and a unique sound for the time. I also admired that in the era of young women gyrating around in schoolgirl uniforms, she was presenting something counter to that in music and entertainment. Life marched on and I started having kids, which meant that my attention to pop culture pretty much took a nosedive. I heard songs here and there, but never really had much time to devote to anything outside of my kids and trying to survive...really, my soundtracks were Sharon, Lois and Bram, Raffi and the Backyardigans. Sad...well, secretly, I still enjoy them.

Anyhow, fast forward, or rewind to a couple of years back when my life went kaboom and I found myself single again after 17 years of partnership. Like many people, which created an entire genre of music, I started listening to the Blues and some Jazz. That got me through the initial period of lying on the floor, not wanting to get up and face reality bit. Then I started getting pissed, so I switched over to Adele, who was just becoming very popular at the time. Adele didn't last long for me, because while I was angry, it wasn't something I wanted to sustain me because its so negative. Then I ran across "So What" by P!nk. I remembered the song from a little bit ago, but decided to listen to it again, and WHOA! Totally made me feel freaking awesome and I remembered why I loved P!nk so much 10 years prior. Then I came across "Fucking Perfect" and literally cried the first time I heard it. I guess there are a few times in life when you hear a song you so badly need in life, and this was one of those moments. Thanks to itunes, I quickly downloaded every P!nk song I could get my hands on
 
I love that she can be self depreciating while still recognizing how awesome she can be. Canadians are nothing, if not self depreciating and proud and since she's from Michigan, we're pretty much countrywomen. I love the fact that she has no problems talking about social issues and it certainly helps that she falls on the right side of the coin in that regard. Love that she's been through breakups, is a mom, is a woman, is determined, wasn't born with a silver spoon in her mouth and an auto tune at her beck and call. If I had a daughter, I'd be plopping her down in front of a few videos, bad language and all as the pop culture role model. Even down to aesthetics, it's great to have someone with their own style, feminine and strong, quirky, pretty, masculine, everything. In the days of so much cookie cutter musicians it's really nice to have someone different.

I realize this sounds like a fan letter, too fucking bad, my blog, my rules! Did I mention that I love how much she swears, it's like it validates my own colourful language. Yeah....that's it, I swear because P!nk tells me to...*shifty eyes*. Anyhow, I will be expressing my fangirl love this coming Monday at the ACC with P!nk in concert and it's something I've been eagerly waiting for for 2 years. I splurged on tickets and cannot wait to join a billion other screaming fans listening to some awesome music by a talented artist who has carved out space in the mainstream to be different than what typically sells.

So I'm gushing, I'm appreciative, I'm excited and I have yet to be disappointed by a celebrity in over 10 years, which is saying something. Thank you P!nk for providing musical love for all this time and I cannot wait to finally see you in person.

How things affect me

It's funny, as time goes on at placement, the more people get to know me. I'm a pretty open book, so I've talked about my divorce. I remember when I was telling some people, they all were in shock. They then started treating me very kindly and gently, like I was in intensive care.

I don't usually see myself as a strong person, but seeing the reactions of people lately, I'm starting to see that I must be a little strong to get through something that is pretty shocking to various individuals. It's not just placement, but anywhere, everywhere.

Then they all look at me dumbfounded about why I'm so happy, so bubbly (it's part of my job for one) why I'm not in therapy big time (been there, done that). I don't think about it day to day, mostly, I think about how I'm going to get through the day intact and still have fun. My schedule is exhausting, but my school is fun, my placement is fun, my kids are super fun, my friends are fun and my boyfriend is fun. My main foe these days are lack of sleep and two year old's who want to get up at midnight for three hours to play.

Maybe getting to this point in my life where it is business as usual and my big concerns have nothing to do with painful events in my past is strength, though I prefer to call it progress. It's quickly closing in on two years since we split up, I like to reflect, and I can remember last year, reflecting, simply remembering the amount of pain it caused me would make me tear up, now as I look back, it's hard to remember that pain so vividly. Just like with a death, though I still miss those who have passed, I have a hard time recalling blow by blow the awful feeling it was at the time.

We talk a lot in school about the resiliency of the kids we work with, some of them just surviving, but how that is to be recognized. I don't think we as adults often look back on our own resiliency, which really ought to be examined if you work in social services (I'm looking at all you CYWs, PSWs, SWs) because its easier (and more credible) to convince our clients that they are strong and resilient and can overcome their challenges, if we are inspired by the own hurdles we've crossed. So this upcoming anniversary, I'm going to reflect on my hurdles, I'm going to honour them. And hopefully at the end of this process, I too will see the strength that everyone is telling me I possess.