I Used To.

I’ve been feeling so sad lately. I can’t tell if it’s just a passing moment or if it’s going to be here to stay for awhile. It fluctuates, it comes and goes. I find myself looking online for affordable apartments. Where do I even think I want to go?

I used to believe in so many beautiful things, and life just exhausted me until I realized all I really needed was a safe home where I could rest and eat and be well. I gave up on a few of my dreams to find new things, and find them I did.

I used to search for a part of myself in everyone I met. I would feel this great hope rise up inside of me, only to have it later fall, leaving me defeated and small. I was so small. So insignificant. So lost. So naive. Yet still so full of that hope.

I think there’s still a small flicker of it alive inside of me somewhere, but I’ve trapped myself into this bizarre life of never really knowing. I’m uncertain about where I’m going. It’s as though a small part of me is just dead inside, that part of me that knows I have to do this in order to survive.

If I followed my heart, where would I be right now?

I know where I’d be. Instead I sleep alone, I wake alone. I’m usually alone even when someone else is at home. It’s not that I’m unhappy, it’s that this isn’t how I want to live the rest of my life. Who would? Who could?

Some days I look at the life I have lived and I know who and I know how. I dream. I paint. I write. I think of other lives I could be living. I exist here in this moment and it is enough. I have enough. But what do I know? My heart will always want what it wants. I will always want to sleep beside love. I will always be looking for that part of myself in someone else, that part of them they’ll see in me. That comfort. That safe place. It must exist, I know it exists.

I rest knowing that for now I am safe. For now this is my life. I expect it will change at some point, it’s just a thing I know. How or when I couldn’t say. I just feel it, a faint shifting of time.

One day I’ll meet someone and I won’t feel as though I have to shut down inside just to endure, just to survive. I won’t have to live within their rigid boundaries or shut down the hope and joy that once lived inside of me. I won’t go to bed alone or wake up alone, and most of all, I won’t dream alone.

 

I Get It

I think I get it, I really really do. I get that when we let go of people who hurt us, even when they think they are helping us, that we get better. It makes sense in a way it never really did before. Remove self doubt, remove self loathing, remove any belief in an abusive/negative person, and it makes perfect sense. Let those people go and suddenly you feel lighter, you feel happier, you feel a new sense of calm. It’s ok to let go. It’s ok to be who you are. It’s ok to live your life in a way that works for you. It isn’t about anyone else but you. What works for you? What food makes you feel good? How many blankets keep you warm at night? How long do you want to read before bed? Nobody else can decide for you. Anyone telling you how to live your life, and I mean in a really negative and judgmental way, is not someone who genuinely cares. They are likely toxic and resentful.

That being said, sometimes we are so hard on ourselves that we believe everything others tell us. It may be a partner, a dear friend, or a family member. You should work harder, you should get out of bed, why are you wearing that, how come you always, why don’t you ever…and it mixes in with the negative voices in our head until we believe it all to be true. Why, if it weren’t true then it wouldn’t be affirmed by others now would it?

Lies. All lies.

Remove that person or people and see what happens. Will you be lonely? Maybe for a moment. Will you fall flat on your face? No. Let them go, whoever they may be, and see what happens. In some situations it is possible to converse and set boundaries and share feelings and both people can learn and grow and make efforts, but that isn’t always possible. It’s the exception.

When you feel shitty around a certain person, place, or situation then you are not where you are meant to be in that moment.

It’s ok to spend time alone. Lots of it if you wish. It’s ok to be selectively social. It’s ok to say no. It’s ok to have limits. It’s ok to say yes. It’s ok to not know how you feel.

This Is All There Is…

This is it. This is all there is. I try to be soft in a hard world. I try to be alone in a crowded place. I try to share small parts of myself with others who want to put those parts of myself on the ground so they can walk back and forth over them, until there is nothing left but memories of who I once was.

My life is not a dream. It is a reality. I live it every day. I do great things, things that nobody will ever see or understand. It has to be ok. It has to be enough. And so it is.

It is enough.

It is my inherent belief that those who don’t even bother trying to understand are not worthy of knowing who I truly am. I have comfort in knowing that I can open a book and share my stories, or find new stories shared by others. I can listen to music and draw and create and through this I understand more of who I am. I have an intimate relationship with myself, something I know most people are missing in their lives. It’s why so many people are seeking approval outside of themselves, as though they are broken children who will never find comfort anywhere…always searching, always broken, instead of healing from the inside out. Which is how it works.

My truths will always be mine. My voice will always be mine to use as I choose. My beliefs will always be what they are, ever changing and evolving as I grow. I do not subscribe to one strict belief system and never will. I refuse to allow others to plant invasive species in my mind. My truths are mine, thus making them true to me. What others choose to believe or not believe is their truth now, wouldn’t you say?

 

The Last Time

The last time I got drunk I was 30 years old. It seems like such a long time ago that I often forget what I was like, what my life was like. I remember that night though some of it is blurred and I’m sure my memories are slightly skewed, but what I recall goes something like this. . .

I was out with a woman I had recently met. We seemed to really hit it off, as though we had been great friends for many years. She was interesting and real and we spent a lot of time together going for walks, hanging at the beach, drinking tea, and even having meals together. We shared a lot of personal and intimate details of our lives and while she was a bit unwound at times, I didn’t judge her cuz she was just such an awesome person.

We were out that night at a cafe and decided to go across the street to the pub for a beer and maybe some food. I don’t recall if we ate or not, I do know we drank and by the time I was tipsy I was outside asking random guys for cigarettes and being rather reckless with my so called flirting. Nobody had any so we decided to go to my pseudo boyfriends place and see if he had anything for us to smoke.

When we arrived he actually let us in, which surprised me as he was pretty uptight about having me be part of his life even though he was very much a part of mine at the time. I remember playing his guitar (I don’t actually know how to play guitar) and singing out one of his windows. I remember smoking a lot of weed and having an asthma attack. I remember the bathroom door almost falling off when I tried to use the bathroom, and I remember him and my friend getting into some sort of argument. I still have no idea what it was about, or maybe I just choose not to remember.

So we left and he followed us out. There was yelling and name calling and she pulled down her pants and mooned him, though he swears she spread her cheeks and showed him everything. Not that I care. He was a fucking asshole. I was just deluded and enjoyed drinking and getting high with him…

So me and my friend, we just walked away. I know she mentioned going back to her place, but I wanted to be alone, so we parted ways. I was so messed up that I started to panic, I was alone, it was really late, and I was pretty far from home. I made it to a local store that was open 24 hours and asked if there was a payphone. I could hear myself slurring my words, how embarrassing. There wasn’t a payphone so I asked the guy to call me a cab. As I stood there, I considered asking a guy in the store to walk me home. I knew that I was way too drunk then, because that’s a bizarre thing to do.

So I stood outside waiting for my cab, minding my own business. Some people sitting outside the store were asking for change and one guy walked by and told them to get a job. I remember yelling out, “What’s your problem you asshole?!” and the woman sitting outside the store just said ‘ignorance, it’s just ignorance’ but even in my drunken state, I knew it was more than that.

So my cab arrived and I drunkenly got into the car and I was asking why it was so quiet and the driver explained to me that it was a hybrid which I thought was pretty darn cool. I was aware of my drunken state, yet I felt like conversing and so we chatted all the way to my place.

I’m not sure what happened after that. My fake boyfriend probably called asking to come see me. My friend and I eventually had a falling out and we never spoke again. Her and another so called friend ganged up on me and thought it was a good idea to try to shame, humiliate, and belittle me, but I moved on. I also never drank again. It wasn’t a decision I made, I just knew I was ready for my life to be different. Within months the ‘boyfriend’ was gone from my life, though we kept in contact somewhat for a couple of years, he wasn’t a genuine person and I don’t believe he truly ever cared about me. He was an alcoholic, a lonely sad person, and he thought that he had saved me. We had spent most of our time together drinking and I no longer found that appealing.

Still, he had come into my life during a very dark time and I think I felt I owed him something, but that’s common when someone is abusive. You just want to prove yourself to them so badly, but they’ll never see you for what you truly are.

So I moved on and life changed as it always seems to do, and here I am today all these years later…

To Sleep Beside Love

I once believed, like a beautiful dream, that one day I would sleep beside love. I would be safe and warm, in a place where no one would hurt me. The words spoken would be thoughtful and kind, and even when there was anger, it would be quickly resolved and life would go on.

I once believed so many naive things.

The Ethics of Cloth Pads and the Companies that Sell Them…

Companies such as Lunapads and Eco Femme have Pad for Pad and One For Her programs. New Moon Pads donates a pad for every order over 99 dollars as well as offering a discounted option to donate to Days for Girls. I believe it is 3 pads for 9.99 or 10 for 29.99. You can check out the Days for Girls website here. These programs help women who otherwise may not be able to afford any form of menstrual product to help them through their cycle, which would result in them missing school and work. Imagine not being able to go to school because you have no way of dealing with your period.

I haven’t bought any Eco Femme pads, but they look really well made if you check out their website and the few reviews out there. I love that I know who is making my pads, where they are coming from, and the fabrics being used. I have quite a stash of New Moon Pads, she’s fairly local to me and gives amazing customer service. From what I understand, she runs her business herself out of her home and her products are amazing and durable. Lunapads is a small business in Vancouver, which again is somewhat local to me, and while I don’t know how many people are employed, I do know that they are very willing to answer any questions and I feel very confident buying from them.

Those are just a few reasons I support companies such as those listed above. Lunapads is by far my favorite. The quality and customer service is outstanding. Their passion to change the lives of those of us who menstruate  is inspiring. They are inclusive, in that they acknowledge that it isn’t just cis women who menstruate, and they offer such a variety of options from internal to external protection. I will always always always promote their business and support them myself. I gotta say, their teeny pantyliners has made my life a lot more comfortable, and I don’t feel guilty changing it several times a day cuz I know I am just gonna rinse it out later and toss it in the washer with my clothes. Easy peasy.

So it is the experience of supporting and buying from people who are making these products, from small businesses to the work at home etsy seller who is single handedly making all their products themselves that has led me to wonder about businesses I’m seeing more and more of such as Precious Stars Pads. I decided recently to try sewing some of my own reusable pantyliners and so of course I started watching hours upon hours of youtube videos. I’m a very visual learner and I like to have a solid idea of what I’m doing before I venture into a new project, and so I stumbled across the Precious Stars Youtube channel.

The channel is run by a young woman named Bree and she has tons of great information and reviews on her vlog. She shares her experiences and struggles with reusable menstrual products (also referred to as rumps by many users) and she even started her own cloth pad business at a fairly young age. How awesome to see a young person succeeding at doing something they are so passionate about, yet I have one major issue with her company. Her pads are all produced in factories in China. She refuses to answer questions about why these are the exact same pads one can find on Ebay or Aliexpress. She has yet to address questions regarding the conditions of these factories and the workers. After watching her videos and looking at her website, I have decided I won’t be buying from or supporting her in any way. I would urge others to question the ethics of her company as well.

One of the main reasons so many of us do switch is for environmental reasons, and buying from small businesses or making our own gives us the chance to know where these products are coming from and who is making them. I don’t want mass produced products and I certainly don’t want to unknowingly buy a product that may have been produced in a sweatshop or by workers who endure long hours, sub-par work conditions, and low wages.

I like to know where the food I eat comes from, I will go out of my way to buy local food and I will email companies and ask questions and research research research. I feel that if I can make something myself, then I will. I grow a garden, it’s not huge, but we get a lot of food out of it. I buy a lot of second hand and ‘sustainable’ clothing. So while I love to support small business, I only like to support ethical business.

I also want to address the issue of bloggers and vloggers who open with ‘hi ladies’ or post things about how men may not want to view/watch. All genders need to be educated about the reproductive system and periods are a huge part of that. Also keep in mind that there are trans men out there who do get periods, and it may be a very delicate subject for some as it is a very unwanted process their bodies forces them to endure. I just really like inclusion, and I know we have all been somewhat programmed to think a certain way, but the world is a vastly growing and changing place and one must educate themselves about these things.

Now, it has been several years, four or five, since I have purchased anything from etsy, so I have been perusing the pad makers shops and I am loving what I am seeing. It’s like there is this huge community of supporters, makers, buyers, reviewers…and I feel really inspired by it. Inspired to buy, to make my own, and to add my voice.

The Radical Act of DIY

Yesterday I was feeling…I don’t know…down I guess. My husband started talking about radical acts and how every time we diy (do it yourself) we are doing something significant. I know he’s got a point, but I still can’t help feeling as though there is something more I could or should be doing.

I have certain ideals that don’t always mesh well with the majority of people in my community. I’m pretty far left, but as I come out of my shell I find that there are more people who think like we do than I originally thought. I know that we may never live in an ideal world/society, and so I think about what I can do to create that world for myself and my family.

Is it truly a radical act to grow food in your yard or to raise a few animals? In some ways it really is. It’s even radical to shop at outdoor markets or go directly to farms. We happen to be fortunate that these options are fairly abundant where we live, yet it still isn’t enough. Our community could be producing vast amounts of food, year round, and there are plenty of people out there gardening, but it isn’t near enough. People are going hungry, and I truly believe that we should all plant food everywhere we can…food should be free. Sometimes when I’m in a grocery store I am so overly aware of how NOT natural the environment is that I can barely stand it. I start to panic, or I start to daydream about my long ago ancestors who were likely hunter gatherers and how peaceful their lives must have been.

I have the mentality that if I can make something myself, then I will do so before buying something pre made. So I started knitting socks and I learned to bake bread and I learned how to grow a garden. I invested in a dehydrator, started making my own soup stocks, planted my first apple tree, and stocked up on good essential oils. Are these things even significant? So what if we make our own compost for the garden? So what if we make our own cleaning products? How is any of this radical?

Perhaps it’s simply radical to do things that don’t support big corporations. Someone asked me why I would go to the trouble to sew a quilt when I can go buy one. Well here’s why…because I bought a pile of scraps for five dollars at a thrift store, washed and ironed them, found an old flat sheet…and I had a quilt that I just needed to buy batting for, which I bought from a small locally owned quilting store. Also because I enjoy learning and creating things with my own hands. I can put that quilt on my bed in the summer and say ‘I made this and it’s amazing’ instead of wondering if a child in a factory somewhere made my quilt. It just feels good on so many levels.

When I learned to knit I felt as though I was somehow connecting to generations of my family. How many men and women before me knit their own socks, hats, gloves? I can’t even imagine, because it used to be all there was. People even spun their own yarn from wool they may have sheered themselves. I mean, these things are a lost art today and I want so badly to just come right back to it all.

These skills have not been passed down to me. I have learned from many people as well as books and youtube. Modern technology has so many benefits, I greatly wish more people would use it for diy.

I can upcycle a sweater or tshirt into a pillow, a grocery bag, mittens, a hat, or even a skirt.

None of this means I don’t even go to Walmart of Superstore, because I do. I stock up on household items and I do my absolute best to be an informed consumer. I buy bulk when I can and I tend to make our food from scratch wherever I can…which is really quite easy for me.

If there is something small you need to fix or buy, think about doing it yourself and see what happens. You might be amazingly surprised. Then you can trade and share and ideas will take shape and it will be amazing. We can return to simple things one little project at a time.

Under The Pressure

I’m feeling overwhelmed, as though a lot of pressure has suddenly been put on me. I can’t keep up, it’s too much. I’m futurizing…yet still I know I’m going to be ok because I’m sleeping through the nights and I’m eating as much as I usually would.

You see, anxiety and stress can make me really ill, but I’ve learned so many different ways to manage anxiety when life becomes overwhelming. One big thing is to ask for and accept supports, so long as the people giving the support don’t add any stress of course. I have learned too that we can’t know what will happen, it’s so important to stay focused on the here and now. Not always possible, so when I do futurize I try to think in ways of how I will plant my summer garden, what the sunlight will look like this spring as the buds form on the fruit trees, what yarn I will knit my next pair of socks with…instead of creating stressful scenarios in my head.

My partner who I love dearly was physically assaulted while at work this past weekend. He had to undergo a lengthy surgery as a result. He kept saying he was ok with everything, but I know from experience it can take awhile for the events to really sink in. We are sensitive beings, something like this has an impact not only on the individual but also on family, friends, and people in the community. I don’t know who this person is, I’m constantly looking at people’s faces when I am out now…was it him? Could it have been that person over there? I just don’t know…

So it sinks in. It sinks in and there are new anxieties. I’m overwhelmed. I’ve healed from my own trauma, my own experience with an assault and while this hasn’t made any of that resurface, I am certainly much more emotional and introspective than usual. Thoughts floating around in my mind, I watch them pass by…I won’t hold them closely, I have to live here, now.

 

It’s Better Left Behind

I’m not hung up on any moment of my past, yet I often find myself caught in a moment of nostalgia…moments I reflect upon and later I simply find myself relieved to have lived through those moments to be where I am today.

I feel as though I have lived other lives, the past so obscure at times that I barely recognize the characters, I barely recognize the me of who I once was. Who was I with these strangers I once called friends and lovers?

I once wanted a child so very badly, I would have done almost anything to get what I wanted at the time…and I did in a way. I sought a partner who wanted a child as much as I did, and when I couldn’t bring any of it to life, I was simply ready to move on…to curl into myself and move as far away from that life as I possibly could.

So it’s an interesting moment to see that child, that life (or lie) I almost lived once upon a time so very long ago. Was that really even me? I never could have faked it, I never would have been good enough, I never would have measured up. I am so certain things would have still turned out the same as they are today, if not fiercely similar.

The other night I drove to the beach to listen to music as the sky turned dark over the ocean and as I sat there I remembered a moment quite intensely, a moment I hadn’t thought of in years. I had walked to the beach with my young son and it was bitterly cold, January or February on the west coast, a grey sky and a bite in the air. Only two other people were on the beach that day and I sat with my mug of tea, gone cold on the walk, and watched my son play, when all I really wanted to do was cry and scream and climb out of myself somehow.

I endured those moments of pain. I look back and wish I’d been more present, wish I hadn’t suffered the hell of depression as much as I did, but I did and I can look at it today and see it in another light. I can see how far I have come, I can see how much I have grown, I can see how much I have learned, and I can see that the past is a part of me. A part of me I won’t ever return to. I can look back, catch a glimpse of what once was, but I won’t stay there. I have so much today to be thankful for, to be truly grateful for.

I have a life full.

“You didn’t let me down, you just put thoughts in my head”

All The Women I’ve Loved

So many amazing women have passed through my life. Beautiful women who were strong, wise, and full of inspiring stories. There are a few who really stand out to me…the ones who stuck around to love me the ways I loved them. The ones who held my hand crossing busy streets, the ones who wished me sweet dreams as I fell asleep at night.

There was my neighbor who came for tea almost every night, making sure I was safe and ok. She took me in her arms and held me tight, comforting me through some of the hardest moments of my life.

There was my friend down the street who always encouraged me to be more of who I am. She listened so patiently, always sharing parts of herself in ways that other women usually didn’t, or couldn’t. She was so strong and admirable, yet I saw her weaknesses as much as she saw mine.

There was the woman I met who was older than my mom. We shared pasta and long walks late into the evening. She was wise and strong and free in ways I’ve never been.

There have been women who have come into my life briefly and women who have stayed for many many years, and I’ve loved them all in different yet similar ways. To be held by someone who wants nothing from you, to share intimacies you can’t share with anyone else…is such an amazing and beautiful thing.

That’s what I miss. Life has changed and fluctuated so much, taken over by mundane tasks and strangers I don’t care to call my friends. I miss the love of another woman in my life.