Category Archives: self-esteem

Days that help me be myself

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I think it was Ralph Waldo Emerson who said

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.

I completely agree. Sometimes, it seems like each day is a struggle to figure out who I am, to remember it and to live and breathe it in my actions, my words and my choices. Days when self-doubt is the demon that requires repeated slaying.

And then there are the other times. Those all-to-rare days when I feel completely myself and completely at ease. Days when I know that despite the hard decisions, my heart and my life are in alignment. Days which replenish my soul and re-stoke my fires.

Days like this past weekend.

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Days away with amazing women who listen and support and never doubt for a minute that I am perfect just the way I am.

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Days spent exploring the beach, listening to birdsong and attuning with nature.

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Days spent listening, reading and eating good food made with love. Days of quiet solitude and burst of laughter. Days of story-telling, sharing wisdom and  confiding secrets.

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Days when I have time to stop, slow down, notice the little things. Time to consider things from another perspective.

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Days where all the worries leave me and I know that everything will be okay. That I will be okay.

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Days that help me be myself. Not just for the weekend but hopefully for all the days to come.

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Quirkyalone

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I think I may be a quirkyalone.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how I needed a new word for single. A few days later, the Universe in the form of Amazon shipped me a book by Sasha Cagen called, “Quirkyalone; a Manifesto for Uncompromising Romantics“.

Now, clearly I had ordered this book at some time in the distant past. Distant enough that I’d forgotten about it. Fortunately, Amazon has a better filing system than my brain and the book had emerged off of the backorder pile and found it’s way to my mailbox.

Cagen says, “Quirkyalones are people who enjoy being single (but are not opposed to being in a relationship) and prefer being single to dating for the sake of being in a relationship. Fundamentally, quirkyalone isn’t so much about being alone as it is about connection: with yourself and others. It’s about liberating yourself from the expected road maps to discover your own. It’s about developing comfort with aloneness and recognizing that comfort is crucial to being with someone else.”

At first, I thought “aha!”, I am a quirkyalone. This newish, emergent me fits the description to a “q”. I am self-reflective, I believe that life can be prosperous and great with or without a mate, I create and maintain chosen families as friends, I’d rather be alone than be in a relationship where I have to hold back an essential part of myself, I’m not opposed to dating but prefer not to date for social convention and I’ve had a glimpse of a great love relationship and am open to the possibility of finding a similar experience. Hallmarks of a quirkyalone, according to Cohen.

Oh, and my talent for deconstructing love songs is definitely equal only to my vulnerability to them!

But, as I kept reading about quirkyaloneness, and the related quirkytogether and quirckyslut, I started to think “but, wait, isn’t everyone like this?” And, then, more dangerously, “Wait, shouldn’t everyone be like this?”

Doesn’t everyone like long walks by themselves? Sit on the beach and reflect? Prefer being alone for the right reasons than with someone for the wrong reasons? Go the movies alone? Enjoy an evening at home alone? Fit the description above?

As usual, it was my chosen sister S. who grounded me and brought me back to reality. No, everyone is not like that. Really, I said? Yes, she said. Which is totally okay. Agreed.

I think that the reason I headed off down that line of thinking is that the description of quirkyalone just seems like a healthier version of me. A version where I celebrate solitude rather than struggle with loneliness. Where I set free the creativity of my quirkiness, rather than stifle it with the expectations of this culture. Where I am proud of the “I am” rather than shameful of the “I should be”.

I supposed next time I’m asked if I’m single, I could say “I’m a quirkyalone”. But that seems a bit, well, overly-quirky. I think I’ll just say “yes” and let it go at that.

I’m think I’m a quirkyalone. And I am just fine with that.

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A letter to my 12-year old self

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Dear 12-year old me –

It is going to be okay. You are on the right path and you are doing great. You are beautiful; not because of your physical looks but because you have a light that shines in you and pours forth in your smile and your energy. That is attractive. You have a fire that ignites your mind and burns brightly in your heart. And, when your fire gets dampened by hurt and rejection, which it will, remember you are surrounded by people who will reignite that fire. Cry, talk to them, be open and honest and vulnerable. They will help and it’s okay to need and accept help. We all do.

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Keep doing the things in your life that you love – sing, run, dance, feed your intellect – and be yourself. Don’t worry about trying to be what society tells you to be. When you are yourself, you are happy. And you will know that the people around you truly see you, not a fake you, and they like you.  Don’t waste your time and energy on people who don’t like you. It’s better to let them go or to walk away from them.

Take risks, especially when you love because it’s worth it. Even when you get hurt. And, you will.  But, when that happens, when you’re sad or angry or scared or feeling rejected or insecure, try to accept these feelings. Don’t try to make them go away by eating or pretending you don’t care. That won’t work and the feelings will end up festering inside you and affecting your ability to connect with others and to heal. Give the feelings some space, acknowledge them, and then focus your energy on the positive things in your life and they will pass, leaving you with valuable lessons in their wake. To help process these emotions, prioritize your self-care. Self-care means spending time doing the things that are most important to you.

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Feelings do not define you or your life. You can have a sad day without it meaning your life is sad. You can fail at something without it meaning you are a failure.  Failing and making mistakes is a key part of the learning process. No one hits the bullseye the first time they shoot an arrow. You get closer with each “failed” shot.

You can be rejected without it meaning you are unworthy of being loved. It just means the fit wasn’t right. Learn from that and try again.

You can be imperfect without it meaning you are a less-than disappointment. When you feel imperfect, accept that we are all imperfect; it’s part of being human.

There is no such thing as controlled perfectionism, where if you do everything right than everything will be okay.  Life will happen. You only have control over how you react to events, not the events themselves. And, when you let go of the control you create the space for wonderful unexpected things to happen.  Better than you could ever pick for yourself.

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Don’t worry about being anxious. Pay attention to your body but don’t let feeling anxious stop you from living your life the way you want and doing the things you really want to do.

So, keep being you. Allow yourself to be seen and don’t hide. Keep being fierce about following your joy.

Keep up the good work. You are doing great!

with love always,
43-year old you/me

PS – you will get to see lava someday!!

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My best Christmas ever

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I know that people usually say, “this was the best Christmas ever”, kind of like how the Olympics are always the best Olympics ever, but I seriously think this may have been my best Christmas ever.

Christmas for me means a trip to the cold east to be with my family of origin. And, there is nothing like visiting the whole family together at the same time to make you feel like you’re in a merry festive mine field of subconscious triggers and childhood emotional flashbacks.

Food triggers (voluntarily eat salad? Never!). Emotional triggers (please don’t tell that embarrassing story from my childhood again!). Family stereotyping (she’s the messy one).

But each holiday trip over the past few years has been an interesting barometer on how I’m doing tackling this journey of whole-hearted living.

The food is slowly getting better. I can say out loud “no, really, don’t tell that story again because this is how it makes me feel”. And, “you’re the messy one, she’s the responsible one and I’m the independent one” kind of breaks down and falls apart when we start having real conversations about real life.

But there was one thing that hadn’t changed. And that was that it was again just me traveling. No husband/wife/partner. Just the single one.

I have always felt that lack-of-partner gap. The extra space in the family picture. The Christmas gifts signed only by me. The only single around a table of couples. The vague feeling of failure, of differentness, a sense of not yet achieving grown-up status. And, of sadness that somehow that one thing defined my progress over the past year instead all of successes and struggles.

And then this year, about halfway through the week, I noticed that feeling hadn’t shown up. I felt totally okay being just me. I didn’t need to be anything but me. Not thinner, not more financially responsible and not married.

And, I enjoyed every single part of the week. The sleigh ride in the freezing cold but beautiful snowy woods. Glass beading with my sister. Taking my niece for her first facial. Telling family stories around the table (loaded with food, of course!). We even managed to get a great group family photo with everyone smiling at once.

I’m not sure what changed over the past year. Or, what changed in me over the past year. Or when exactly I changed. Maybe all those nights of telling myself “I am enough” finally allowed my heart to believe it.

But I’m glad it changed. And, I think I might do this happy Christmas thing again next year.

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Does this mammogram make me look fat?

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This week, one two separate occasions, I was trapped where I only had access to “women’s magazines” as reading material.

I’m thinking these things should come with a warning. Caution – reading these magazines will give you a warped sense of what is important in this world. Do not touch!!

One of those places was the nail salon. So, okay, part of the nail salon experience is reading trashy mags, I suppose. There was an article on how some magazines are adding weight to models using photoshop because they look too thin and unhealthy. When the author? journalist? reported how shocking and wrong this was because we should all be allowed to look like however we are, I decided to PUT THE THING DOWN. I mean, that is warped!!

And so, I sat there having my nails done staring into space. I think that might have been better for me than continuing to read. Especially since I was already feeling bad that I fell off the nail-biting wagon in October and have had to resort to gel nails to try and put a halt to the habit again.

But, the second of those places was during my mammogram! In the waiting room, you have to turn off your cell phone so that you don’t interfere with someones x-rays while you’re updating your Facebook status. Or, whatever. There was a sign saying turn off your phone. I’m Canadian, I followed directions.

There was a range of magazines. Not as trashy as the nail salon but every one of them was about women’s style or health. If health means an endless discussion on what to eat to lose weight, increase your brain power, be a better parent and earn more. And this was the mammogram clinic at my local women’s health centre!!!

Before I started to care too much about whether I was still wearing last year’s fashions or drinking enough coconut milk, I dug to the bottom of the pile and found a Mclean’s magazine from October. I had already read it but at least it was news about what is actually going on in the world. Thank goodness for Mclean’s!!

And then it happened. Yesterday my weekly Mclean’s arrived in the mail. Complete with a 25 page special supplement on the pregnancy of Kate. TWENTY-FIVE PAGES!!!! Including a whole page of pictures from the last 18 months of Kate’s stomach with her hand on it challenging the reader to identify the “baby bump”.

I may have to cancel my Mclean’s subscription. Sigh.

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