Hope is a funny thing.

I would describe myself as a hopeful individual. I live by such quotes as:

"If others think I am nuts, naive, gullible, and not living in the real world, that's all right too...I'll gladly stay in what some have called my fictitious world, my happy and peaceful world, a world full of signs of hope." - Ward Foley
I believe that people are good. I believe that we can all do what it takes to change our world. Change someone's life. Change our own outcome.

I believe in love. I believe in good. I believe in happiness. I believe in people.

I support the underdog. I give people the benefit of the doubt. I believe people are telling me the truth.

I believe that some people are handed a shitty hand. I believe that circumstance can make people act in certain ways. I believe that we, as a society, ostracize people who do not fit into our norm.

I believe that life is not fair to many. I believe that we take so much for granted. I believe that many cannot recover from the hardships they've been dealt.

I am hopeful that all of this might work out in the end. I am hopeful that good will prevail. I am hopeful that simple act or thought can change a life.

I hope that people learn to love. Unconditionally. With all their heart. Fiercely.

Call me nuts, naive, gullible. Call me hopeful and I will know I am doing right.

Photo by Lauren Treece

My hips don't lie

Some recent conversations with some friends have had me scouring feminist websites and blogs. There is something that I love about processes like this: I go in search of one thing and come out with a completely different, but equally as important discovery. I went in search about articles about whether or not men can be feminists and I ended up reading this: How to Tell a True Story. It was so very interesting and brought up an awful lot of thought and emotion on my part. But then it happened again. I was reading this and I found myself completely involved in the tiniest, smallest, seemingly fairly meaningless part of the work which was:

"While training to be a yoga teacher, I learned to be careful about hip opening poses. “People store memories in their hips,” my teacher said. “Especially women. Trauma. Be gentle, and don’t be surprised if some students start crying.”"

I continued reading the entire story, but I emailed myself that quote and found myself reading it over and over again and I'm not really sure why. But it's so true.

It's true for me in yoga class, it's true for me when I'm just stretching on my own, it was true for me in ballet, and it's true for me now with burlesque too. When I am in an uncomfortable situation I turn my toes in a little and this closes my hips. When I am feeling highly emotionally charged I bring my knees up and close my hips off to the world. When I am sick or really tired I curl up on my side leaving no access to my hips.

And then something made sense to me: I stopped ballet and modern while I was at a very intense and serious level due to hip injuries, stress fractures in both. And though having to relearn how to define myself was difficult enough, I now wonder how the fact that the injury was in an incredibly vulnerable part of my body affected that process.

And why wouldn't your hips (especially for women) be place of great emotion?! Hips-close to gut-close to pelvis-close to pubic bone-close to ovaries-close to uterus-close to vagina-close to vulva. We push memories down, we push trauma down, we push emotion down down down because it is BAD to be emotional. You are weak if you show vulnerability in any way. And as a woman, (and this is just me personally), I don't think of 'down' as my legs or toes. I think of 'down' as that place inside my tummy. the opposite of the base of my spine. And what surrounds that? My hips.

Pretty interesting thing to come out of looking around for feminist vs. pro-feminist men!

FUCK YEAH!

One year older....

I turned 28 last week. I wasn't at all excited about it. I'm usually really good with birthdays. In fact I love them. A day where you get to be the Prince or Princess and parade around like all eyes are on you! I love other people's birthdays, coming up with a special way to make them smile and feel ever so loved. It's the day where on facebook you look like a rockstar because all those people that you never talk to post something on your wall, albeit completely generic. But this year I just wanted it to come and go. I couldn't put in to words why I wanted my birthday to just pass by without notice, but I did. Everytime I said, "I just feel like I'm turning 28, and what do I have to show for it?!?" People would respond with such things as "you're a doula, you found a job at a not-for-profit that you love, you have friends surrounding you and loving you, you have a family that you adore and they adore you in return, your burlesque habbit has become more of a sexy addiction!! What don't you have to celebrate!"

And the truth is, they're all right. But I found all the negatives, "yeah, BUT I don't my own family (or even the slightest hint it may happen soon), I am not making enough money, burlesque isn't moving fast enough for me" and the list went on and on. Basically in my eyes I'm not successful. Then something happened.

This:

Birthday party dinner courtesy of Krissie

And This:

Spent the day at the zoo with my bff

 

and This and this:



From my sister

 

From my parents

 

 And This:



SPOILED!!



And THIS!:



A week before my birthday, my best friend from Lethbridge came into town and planned an entire celebration. We had hotdog pizza (my fave as a kid!) Wildrose Wraspberry beer, party hats, cake and laughter. The next day we went out for breaky and then she took me to the zoo and we made supper together. And she left and I felt loved.

I spent the week watching my cousins (which I'll write about in a different post because it deserves a whole post unto it's own) and each morning I was greated with 3 beautiful smiles and hugs and kisses. They went down to the German bakery and got me pasteries. They were sad when I left. They let me know they love me.



I got flowers at work from my sister and my parent's. A volunteer brought me flowers for me. My boss put princess balloons on my desk. There was a card signed by everyone from work. The girls at work got me moustache magnets!! Everyone was kind. I left work smiling. People celebrated me and I felt loved.



I came home Sunday and my parent's were here and they had a celebration planned for me. Steak for supper, pateries for desert. Presents, wine, amazing company and surrounded by my family. We played Kinect all night and laughed and laughed and laughed. We woke up and had coffee and did the crossword puzzle, went out for lunch and then they headed home. And before they left they both told me how happy they are I was born. 5 minutes after they left I got a text from my dad saying they miss both of us already. And I knew I am loved.



And so, what I learned for my 28th birthday is that maybe I'm not where I imagined I'd be at 28, but it isn't so bad. I have incredible amounts of love in my life. I am loved beyond measure. And today that is enough for me.

Thank you to my mama and papa, to my wonderful sister, to Krissie, Ashley, Jenny, Kimmy, Linds, and the kids for filling me up with love. To each person who took a moment out of their day to make me feel special.

So, 28 isn't so bad, I guess.





Me. On my 28th birthday, May 17th at around the time I was born.



This is a post about periods. And you ought to bloody read it.



From: http://www.ilovegenerator.com/



I am a genetically female woman who has reached sexual and reproductive maturity which in turn means my uterus prepares for the implantation of a fertilized ovum from one of my ovaries on a fairly regular basis (don't try to give me this 28 day cycle bullshit). Because of this, when a fertilized egg doesn't implant or has some serious issues, my body, ever so nicely sheds the lining of my uterus and gets ready just in case it happens next time! (It doesn't get discouraged, it just tries and tries again!) So let me be clear here: my uterus is shedding unneeded blood and tissue, my vagina is not bleeding. If my genitals were bleeding I would be slightly more concerned for my health and well being as anyone should be if there is significant blood loss from any of the body's organs! Not to mention, it's one hell of a pregnancy predictor! Dudes just have to assume they know of all their children in the world, we get to be pretty damn sure!

Anyway...just FYI, this is not a new occurrence. Uterus' have been shedding unwanted blood and tissue since the dawn of time. And it's not just female HUMANS! Seriously!!!! Reproductively mature, female animals shed linings. And so why all the animosity about periods?! Gents, (if you're still reading this than you just bumped yourself up a notch in my books) get over it. Women, sure it can be uncomfortable and a bit of a nuisance, but it is no surprise (well after the first one, anyway!). But mostly to the industry which caters to "feminine hygiene" please kindly go fist yourselves. It is NOT ok to use blue water to convey the message of red/brown blood and tissue. I do not think it is ok to shame us into wearing bleached, pesticide riddled, chemically processed cotton and other man made materials to 'contain' my body. Eff that noise! And Kotex, thank you for trying to bring light to this, but you're just as bad! Just because you put your products in bright, rainbow-y colours doesn't mean that you're not contributing to the problem, you're just controling it differently. No, we should not be ashamed of our badass bodies. You know why? Because if we didn't get periods we wouldn't be able to host a little wee baby in our wombs. But maybe that's just it! That is an awfully powerful process and it wouldn't be quite right for women to have this ability and be totally stoked on it! Aww helllllls no, so it is important for them to hate it and be ashamed, and for society to contain it in order to maintain the order. Oh not to mention fork out a cold hard cash from our own pockets to pay for that shit. Because THAT makes so much sense! Especially since for every dollar that a man makes a woman makes on average 77 cents. So smaller wages, more expenses. AWESOME!

The cool thing is that we can learn to reappropriate this shit. Eff you feminine hygiene, I will use me some sea sponges to soak up that iron-y goodness, rinse it out and reuse it. Novel idea of not contributing to the landfill. I will also be mother effing proud that my body is epic enough to build up an awesome layer of sufficient nutrients to sustain life and should that not happen rejuvenate itself in order to perhaps do it again next month (or in 2 weeks or 6 weeks, or 2 months whatever YOUR cycle looks like). Because your body bloody (haha) rocks!!! I have actually come to have a pretty rad relationship with my Moon Time and it pretty awesome.

Being Tender

Oh my it's been too long since I've sat down and written. An awful lot has happened, including welcoming another client's baby girl into the world. I must simply dash off and get ready for work to go feed some hungry people today, but before I go I must leave you with this little quote. I found it over at Little Reminders of Love (my favourite all time blog out there!) and I had to pass it along. It's as though she stole the words right from my head!! Happy Monday, loves. Promise to write soon!

My best friend and I a couple years ago. As tender a moment as they come.

"Being tender and open is beautiful. As a woman, I feel continually shhh’ed. Too sensitive. Too mushy. Too wishy washy. Blah blah. Don’t let someone steal your tenderness. Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart. Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things. Whether it’s a song, a stranger, a mountain, a rain drop, a tea kettle, an article, a sentence, a footstep, feel it all – look around you. All of this is for you. Take it and have gratitude. Give it and feel love."  -Zooey Deschanel

The Day of the Woman

In my opinion, it should be every day.

I mean at least someone decided to give us a day where we could be proud of our brains, our bodies, our accomplishments, our talents, our vaginas, our menstrual blood. But why only one day? Just because March 8th has the official title doesn't mean we need to stop there.

But I am glad that we get a day.

But don't let it stop at midnight tonight. Continue to fight for girls all over the world. They need you. We need each other.

I hope that all the women out there are having an amazing day celebrating their gender and the inherent power that means she has. I love each of you and believe that you are powerful, strong, smart, capable, and the list could go on forever.

I love you and your womanhood.

Dumbing Down

I have something to say. Shocking, I know.

I caught myself at work today telling all the little girls that they were "cute" or "gorgeous" or "pretty". Sure, I don't know them, so that's a pretty safe observation when you're dealing with mostly strangers, especially in a vulnerable situation. It's easy, superficial, and it doesn't make the conversation too serious. Parents with children with them at the Food Bank most likely don't want to get into it with them. And so, calling a girl cute or pretty is safe.....but I don't do the same thing with little boys. I call them "buddy" or "dude" I tell them they are "cool" or "neat"; true it's also harmless and light and safe, but it's different. I am not creating a commentary on them based on their physical looks and assuming that their physical looks somehow interpret their innate worth. Yes, my comments are harmless enough as they are simply meant to diffuse a tense situation, but this is something that bigger than just me at work. Why do we consistently comment on little girls and their physical appearance as somehow equating to their worth as a human? I don't go around telling little boys that they are "handsome" or "dapper" or "cute" nearly as much as I do with girls. Oh I know that all my textbooks from University have explanations in them. I know that this is a social construct that has been created because we judge a female's worth on her physical attractiveness whereas we allow judgement on men to be based on their intellect and ability to provide in some form or another. We sexualize young girls far more than we do boys, we encourage young girls to be thin, and conform to our ideal beauty at a far younger age than we do boys. If you want quantitative stats on this just go online. I guess what I find so interesting about this is that I know the damage this does to girls; I studied it for 4 years in University and yet I catch myself doing it. I know better than that! Why don't I talk to those girls about school, or about books, or about who their favourite woman is? Sure, I don't do that with the little boys either, but I am also not reinforcing their importance or notability on their physical appearance. I believe in raising strong, smart, funny, independent little children. I see a lot of the same children over and over and it does get to a point where they understand what is going on and that their family is somehow "lacking" (not my belief, but a general feeling that many of these children will internalize) because they are accessing assistance from a community agency. If I can somehow empower a little girl to see herself as worthy and smart and important based on her brain and person rather than her looks and perceived beauty.

So now I am conscious of this. Tomorrow at work, each little girl that I meet I will ask them how school was, I will ask them what their favourite book is, I will tell them that they are pretty rad for helping their parent(s) with getting groceries. Changing the way I address little girls in and out of work may not change the world, it may not even change how these girls see themselves and compare themselves to social standards of beauty, I may not even reach one little girl is having her understand her importance as a brilliant addition to our world, but all I can do is try. I hope that if (hopefully WHEN) I have a little girl she grows up understanding there are no limits for her based on her physical appearance. Rather, because she has a brain and uses it she will be good - not because she is "beautiful" or "cute" or "gorgeous".

So today go ahead and tell the girls and women in your life that they are beautiful, but tell them that they are smart too and that's just as awesome, because it is. Brains are cool.

Found these rad buttons that speak the truth here.