Dealing With Mental Illness, featured content, Political Hunger Games, Politics, Pressing the Hot Button, Women's Issues

She’s a Woman, Ya Know What I Mean?

Jenifire – Fierce but Friendly

Political Story Time

I was with my “partner”for 5 years. I’d had a crush on them for a few years before we got together, so naturally I was ecstatic when they finally asked me to get involved. I was completely enchanted. Did you ever believe in something so intrinsically that you would argue with anyone up and down, all day long, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary? Did you ever make excuses for some people, allow them to treat you badly, or speak to you with a threatening or intimidating tone, just to keep the peace? Of course you have, you’re a woman. Me too. I grew weary of being disappointed. I grew tired of giving myself endlessly to something that gave me nothing back. I showed loyalty above all else, and I got nothing. They knew I was proactive; a committed, hard worker. They knew I gave my all, and then some. It didn’t matter. I was disposable. My “partner” was my political party. I gave them the heave-ho. Yes, I am a former Liberal. Like many, I became disenchanted. I saw wrong being done and I refused to be a part of it. I refused to be quiet about It. I refused to be beaten down. I almost lost my life because of this party. They couldn’t beat me but they did knock me down. I got back up, dusted myself off, and became stronger. I have grown in the time since I left the Liberals. I honed my political skills any way I could. I stayed active. I helped write press releases for one party. I “dated” all parties. I was a campaign manager for one individual. I ended up running against this person and secured a second place finish in that election, our most recent snap election. An illegal election. A “fixed” election. The PC’s had every advantage. The rest of us had a level playing field with each other. For the rest of us, it was a fight for a second place finish. I won that battle. I came in second. I don’t care what anyone thinks or says, I’m very proud of that. I remained true to myself. I stayed honest. I stayed open. I was still battling mental illness while campaigning. I feel like I pulled off a small miracle, and so would most others, if they had any idea what I was going through.

If you kick me when I’m down, you’re going to feel it when I get back up.

She’s Going to Set you Free

.I’ve been trying to find a political “home” since leaving the Liberals. Getting into a new relationship is never easy. I considered my self a “free agent”. In some ways I still do. I think leaving a political party is like leaving a marriage. A part of it always remains with me. It is the experience in which I compare all others. If it weren’t for greed and ego, I’d probably still be with that party. When I go in, I go ALL in. Despite the perfect glove fit, my conscience wouldn’t let me abandon my principles; my integrity, my brutal honesty, and my impeccable work ethic. I was like the battered wife, I stayed as long as I could, to be as supportive as possible while they needed me, but then the threats came. I got backed into a corner. I fought my way out. It can come naturally to me, I’m a fighter. I had my disappear-bag packed and walked out the door, swinging at anyone who threatened me on the way out. I took a few hits but I also landed a few blows. It would make sense for one to think that this party is irrelevant to me now. They are and they aren’t. Things happened. Things I can’t erase. Things I can’t undo. Things I can’t ever forget. It is my experiences with this party that has shaped not only who I am as a politician, but who I am as a person. I may seem harsh and cold to some. I may seem appallingly know-it-all to others. Both are partly true. There’s good reason for that. I’ve had a lot of experience in the political arena, in many different areas. I’ve been a dedicated volunteer. I’ve given my time. Loads of it. I’ve given my hard-earned money. Too much of it. I’ve given my all, and lost myself in it. Each experience, and position I undertook taught me something; being a director of communications in a provincial leadership race, managing a campaign for a good candidate from a party in which I have little in common, knocking on endless doors, fundraising, coordinating volunteers, becoming a candidate and throwing my name and my life on a ballot. I’ve learned about the push and the pull. I’ve seen the grey in between the black and white. I’ve learned about compromise. I’ve learned humility. I’ve learned to listen, to really listen to what some people don’t say. Some of these experiences have taught me painful but valuable lessons. Some have been educational opportunities. Some have revealed things about myself that I didn’t recognize before. Some things I like. Some things, not so much, but it is all me. I love me. Part of growth is recognizing my own strengths and weaknesses. I am just like everyone else. I have both. My specialty is turning a perceived weakness into a strength; a negative into a positive, if you will. I do love a good challenge and I almost always favour the underdog. I’ll be making a move very soon, one way or the other. My passions take me where I need to be. My rallying cry will be heard by all. As I said previously, when I go in, I go all in, until I win.

I Can, and I Will

Common Ground

I’ve made friends and forged alliances based on common ground. My friendships reach across every party line. I’m a firm believer that sometimes we need to be told exactly what we don’t want to hear. Nobody does that better than a friendly adversary. I’m very grateful for all the support I receive. It comes from many different directions. Right or left, it doesn’t matter to me what we call it. These labels are constructs that blur lines. What matters to me is that we move forward. What matters to me is that we write and support policies that progress the interests of every single New Brunswicker. What matters to me is breaking the stranglehold Irving has over our most precious natural resource. What matters to me is that all of us benefit from what is ours, not just one billionaire family and his friends. What matters to me is protecting our environment from corporations like Irving, who leave a lasting imprint on the biodiversity of our province, and not in a good way. What matters to me are human rights, healthcare, mental health help, equality, infrastructure, education, vision and dental care, just to name a few things. Call it what you will. What matters to me is that we respect and take care of each other. We are each other’s friends and neighbours. Be kind. Stay safe. Be well.

Common Ground
Covid 19, Dealing With Mental Illness, featured content, Life From A Feminist's Perspective, Living Life On Your Own Terms, Living With Anxiety, Thoughts to Ponder, Women's Issues

7 Ways to stay ahead of Covid Depression

Get outside

Identify Your Support Systems

Dealing with the isolation of Covid life can get to the best of us. Many of us have legitimate worries and concerns that aren’t going to go away on their own. We have problems hanging over our heads, constant reminders that life still goes on, despite this new Covid reality. Our new normal is mentally taxing. It’s tough for the most positive person to stay positive all the time. It”s a mindset. It’s a way of thinking that directs your brain to look for the good, or the possibilities. The focus is always on moving forward, but enjoying each moment. These are some of the things I’ve been doing to help battle Covid depression.

My Sanctuary

1 Think outside the box – the one you are living in, and the one that’s in your head. Plain English? Get the F outside! Go for a walk, take your dog out; just get outside. Being outside can make you happier in under 30 minutes. It will help you sleep better, it can lower your blood pressure, and improve memory. It’s biggest advantage; it helps fight depression. It’s when I’m outside and listening to the birds and squirrels that I find myself smiling he most lately. I take my dog outside and throw him the ball. We spend a lot of time together. If you have a dog or a cat, you’re already ahead of the game.

Achilles and Presley
BFF’s for life

2 Cut negative people out of your life – this may sound harsh but it’s an essential step to regaining or retaining peace of mind. It doesn’t mean you don’t care for or love the individual you don’t make time for, it just means you love yourself more. Our own peace of mind right now is more important than ever.

It’s okay to say no and to create distance
Photo by Alin Popa on Pexels.com

3 Stay Connected – It seemed like just yesterday everyone was complaining about social medial and how we all spend too much time investing in it. Right now it is a crucial tool to connections with friends and loved ones. It’s not the same, but it’s the best we can do for now.

My “visits” with Presley Covid-style

4 Stay Informed – This is a crucial step. I’m not talking cruising YouTube for the latest conspiracy theory. I’m talking reading up and listening to what our experts are telling us to do. This is everything from staying home as much as possible, to using sanitizer, to social distancing when out and about. Respect this knowledge and these rules and we will persevere.

Stay informed by trusted sources.
Photo by ready made on Pexels.com

5 Be Grateful – What is brought to us we must deal with. This is life. A positive mind-set helps to look for opportunities for learning or for growth. Sometimes our best lessons have been the most painful. We all deal with trauma differently. We all deal with stress differently. We all deal with a crisis differently. It’s how we respond, to ourselves and to the world, that will make all the difference in how happy you can be.

Confident

6 Be Real – This almost seems counterproductive to trying to have a positive mind set. The thing is, it’s important to acknowledge and process what we are feeling. It doesn’t matter what it’s about. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be disappointed. It’s okay to be hurt. It’s okay to feel betrayed. It’s okay to feel whatever it is you are feeling. I guarantee you that you are not alone. All of us struggle with pain and insecurity. Living your truth, and being your authentic self, will release you from the many expectations that have been thrust upon you, by yourself and by others.

Days after the lowest point in my life and I still found a reason to smile. I was outside by the river.

7 Stay busy – It’s a great time and great weather for spring cleaning. I Marie Kondo’d everything I possible could over the past couple weeks being at home. I’ve taken on some small, and not-so-small projects at home to keep me busy and occupied. Each task I accomplish gives me a sense of satisfaction and another thing to knock of the never ending to-do-list.The important thing is to keep cultivating our relationships, with our friends and with our loved ones. It’s our connections that keep us motivated and keep on holding on to hope for better times ahead.

Dakota and Presly – A single Dad’s life

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Knock out…OR Knock out Punch?

Knock out?
I've been in many battles over my lifetime. I'm a #metoo survivor. I've struggled throughout my life, but the biggest fight I ever faced was with my own mind. Depression controlled my brain for a year. It doesn't control me anymore. It has taught me a lot. I have no regrets, because I've learned. #mentalhealthawareness
ORKnock out Punch?
Afraid to get in the Ring? Never
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Furiously Fabulous

It would come as no big surprise to some people that I get angry sometimes. I get angry at injustice. I get angry when I see unfairness. Yes, I know life is unfair sometimes. Someone just reminded me of that that miserable little fact recently. I know it true, but it doesn’t mean I have to just bend over. I can raise my fist in anger and spit fire. If I’m angry at dishonestly and injustice, I can accept it, but I’m going to get mouthy about it, especially if it’s the rich and/or powerful, who are screwing me over. I’m going to make a loud noise; because, you know why? I can. It’s okay for me to feel pissed off. It’s okay for me to feel used. It’s okay for me to feel frustrated. It’s okay for me to feel whatever the fuck it is I’m feeling. My feelings are real and nobody gets to deny me what I feel. Nobody. It’s the people in life who hold the power that very often make life unfair for us “ne’er do wells” in New Brunswick. I don’t know very many people who aren’t struggling right now with the social isolation, but I don’t know many rich, affluent people, so I’m not sure what their struggles are right now. I know what they are not worrying about; worrying about money like the rest of us. We all share the worry about our health, and the health of our friends and loved ones. That’s all we have in common during the Covid 19 crisis. The rich are still doing okay. They have everything they want and they need, minus the connections and closeness with their loved ones, which does suck and it’s something every single one of us has to endure. They have all kinds of food, they have lots of gas for vehicles, they have the money to buy all the supplies they would need to carry them through this devastating time. They don’t have to choose between eating or filling a prescription. They aren’t worried about how they are going to pay an exorbitant NB Power bill. They don’t worry about getting disconnected. I have no idea what that would be like, neither do most people I know. Most people I know are struggling right now. Not just with money. They are struggling with this new reality of having no physical contact. They are struggling with the reality of job losses, like me. They are struggling with finding the food to feed their children who are now home all day, every day. They are struggling with just finding a few minutes out of a day to grab for themselves. They are worrying about a recent cancer diagnosis. They are grieving the death of a loved one. They are worried about finding a drive to get to an appointment or to the grocery store, but also face getting a fine because they don’t own a vehicle and can’t afford to pay for a delivery. They are grieving the loss of a miscarriage, a love lost. They are worried about whether to stay home with their kids, or put themselves at risk by still going to work everyday, knowing they could be exposing their own little kids to whatever they unintentionally bring home from work. They worry because they have to work. They need to work to live. They need to keep risking their health and their lives because they have rent to pay, and car payments, and student loan payments, and day care, and insurance payments. All of these worries with Covid 19 hanging over us like a black cloud. I feel like I should be worrying more than I am. I’m either stunned or I’m blessed because I believe things always work out for me. I know they will this time. I feel like I’m in the middle of the curve. I have a home, I have a vehicle, and I have a little bit of money, not much. I have no job, and I have mounting debt. Despite this, my determination is strong, my words are honest, and my courage is my power and my truth.

Jenni-FIRE Warrior

Describe the purpose of the image(opens in a new tab)

My Kids

My biggest worry, of course, is my kids. My daughter did not handle the isolation well in the beginning. She’s used to putting in 10-12 hour days at the lab doing research. This has been her life for the last 3 years, so it’s been an adjustment to say the least; to an overachiever and someone who is always on the go, planning, working, and moving forward, the stand-still is like hitting a brick wall. She’s managing better now, and she and her research team are staying in close contact with each other. She is an exceptionally strong woman, she didn’t skip a masters degree, and end up as a 3rd yr PhD student, in one of the most demanding and competitive fields, in a prestigious university, by resting on her laurels. I know she’s got this. She’s my kid. She’s always going to come out on top. It’s all she knows. For now, she wait’s, not-so-patiently.

Friendly but Fierce

My son I worry a little more for, not because he’s any less capable, because in some ways, he is much more capable than his sister. He’s older, he’s more out-going and easier to approach. He’s very kind and very friendly, and he looks it. He has been through different experiences than his sister, that have demanded strength from him; he pulled though in stunning fashion. I worry because of his health. He has a neurological disorder that makes him prone to having serious seizures, thankfully it has been a couple of years since the last one, so my mind has relaxed a bit. He has been working from home for weeks, so I know his risk of exposure has been decreased, which brings me relief. I worry because he has a little girl, my sweet Presley. He raises her by himself in another city. Normally, they come and visit every weekend or at least every other weekend. It has been more that a few weekends since I’ve had them home for a visit. He finds the strength and does what he has to do everyday to be a good father to Presley, and he is…the best. As a parent, I’m always going to worry, it’s my job. This pandemic just makes things that much worse because there are unknown variables that we have no control over. We can take precautions, sure, but that’s like counting on a condom not to break at it’s peak moment. All we can do is trust, hold on, and hope for the best.

The strength it takes to be a single father of a little girl is very impressive.

The Balancing Act

Life is kind of complicated right now, for everyone. We still have our ups and downs, with Covid 19 hanging over our heads as an added bonus. Though I have yet to see the good from all of this. One good thing I see is that our earth is getting a much needed break. That has to be a good thing. It most households, both parents go to work everyday, we have to in this economy. It takes every thing we have sometimes just to get though normal live and face what it throws at us. Maybe this forced isolation is giving those who should have taken a break and made them do it. I know for certain, I will appreciate so much more, the physical contact I always took for granted. I’m sure most of us will. The balancing act right now is a delicate thing. We want to project an aura of peace and of being positive, but let’s face it. Some of us are bad liars and it shows. I’m one of them. Honestly, most of the time I’m okay, more than okay in fact; just like everyone else I have my moments of weakness. I have my moments of feeling lost and without direction. These are but fleeting moments and I ground myself back to reality. I’m a smart, kick-ass, fearless, fighter. I got this. I got whatever or whomever life throws at me! Bring it!

Much love to all! Thank you for your continued support. I appreciate every single one of you so much. We stay together by staying connected. Please feel free to leave a comment or share! – Love ya’ll – Jen

My reason for continuing the fight – Presley


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Jenni-fire Fierce but Friendly

“Ain’t Nothin’ Gonna Break My Stride”

I am a fighter. I was born one. It was reinforced by having two older brothers who made me a little rougher around the edges. I am surprisingly sensitive and empathetic, which may shock some who know me, but when I feel I’ve been wronged or if I haven’t been treated fairly, my fire bursts into an inferno. When I see other vulnerable people being mistreated, it lights my fire. My initial reaction is to cry. Go figure. This is never to be mistaken as a weakness. My fire soon follows. The tears are just a pressure release. They help heal me. So does standing up for myself and for others. I have another unexpected mountain to climb, blow up, or embrace. I always want to talk things out. I always try to conduct myself with honour, honesty, and integrity. The battle I’m in for myself right now is especially harsh in light of the COVID 19 crisis. It feels especially cold and thoughtless, but it is what it is. I never go down without a fight, especially when I have such a high stake in it, and most especially when I know I am in the right. Sometimes life isn’t fair. I accept that. I accept that sometimes I will lose, but I will never, ever go down without swinging back.

“I may not be a lion, but I am a lion’s cub, and I have a lion’s heart.”

Queen Elizabeth 1
Photo by Public Domain Pictures on Pexels.com

I am a lioness. I’m a fierce defender of myself, my family, my team. I’m a staunch defender of an underdog and the vulnerable. I choose to be positive in the face of adversity. In the mean time, I’m staying connected and hanging onto my friends for support. I’m using the tools I learned and am keeping myself busy. I’ve been writing up a storm; between my blog and my novel, which I recently picked up to finish, my keyboard is always in use. I am encouraged constantly by the words and messages of support I have received. When people tell me they’ve been inspired by my words or my experiences, both men and women, it gives me the gumption I need to go on, to keep up the battle. I received a message just this morning from someone who said they love my blog because it reminds them they have strength, even when they don’t feel like they do. They told me I’m as powerful as a tank. I am. It’s a relief to know that when I do go into battle, I don’t go alone. I have a ton of support and I’m so grateful for each and every one of you, you fuel my fire. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

My Fire is an Inferno

I Won’t Back Down

Please take care of yourselves. We can only beat this or get out of lock-down if we listen. Stay home and keep your distance from others. Wash your hands all the time. This COVID 19 is especially hard on those who are already struggling with mental illness. Please keep this in mind and continue to reach out to those who are struggling. Stay safe and stay well my friends. Much Love!

Still Smiling
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My Struggle – I am not Alone! ❤️

afuturewithfeminism.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/img_2737.mov

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MP Fredericton – Matt DeCourcey

I am so excited to see what Matt will continue to do for our Fredericton riding over the next few years. Proud to be a small part of it! His youthful exuberance can’t be replicated, or faked! It’s refreshing to have someone respresent all of us, no matter what. Most importantly, Matt cares about women’s rights and our youth. Help re-elect him!!

#teamdecourcey

matt3

matt2

matt1

matt4

matt DOA pelky etc

matt team

hargit

 

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Help keep a strong voice. Re-elect Matt DeCourcey! MP Fredericton

www.facebook.com/mattdecourceyfredericton/videos/406795096543438/

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The Wild Card

Bitches Get Things Done

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It’s been a little while since I felt like I was in the right head space to be able to blog. Technically, it wasn’t as much about the head space I was in, as much as it was NOT being able to write freely about what it is that has been troubling my mind as of late. Actually, I still can’t. My hands are tied, at least for the time being. It’s not like anyone tied them. I bound them myself with my unwavering loyalty and a sense of duty that I cannot shake. The words come to me so easily yet I find myself having to keep hitting that backspace bar routinely, because as I have often had to remind myself every time I tried to put pen to paper lately, “you can’t write that.” Let’s not forget what is important right now. There are dirty little secrets people don’t want spilled. Secrets that would cast them in a very negative light, not to mention the bad publicity that would soon follow. Tsk Tsk. No worries! Your secrets are safe with me. I like having aces up my sleeve! Being part of a team means being conscious of those around me and what their needs are. I respect my team. It’s for them that I am holding onto these shameful goings-on. The day and time will come when you will have to answer for these actions; if not from someone else, then definitely from me, when the time is right. I’m like an elephant; I NEVER forget. 

photo of standing woman making shhh gesture
Photo by David Fagundes on Pexels.com

 It’s been a revealing time; a learning experience. I hardly remember feeling such harsh disappointment like I have felt in recent months, not only in some people who I previously held in the highest esteem, but mostly in the ideals and values that I thought we stood for. At the same time, I have felt such elation after having jumped every single hurdle or smashed apart each obstacle placed in my path. Things that were meant to wear me down instead gave me power. I may have, at times, had to slow down and catch my breath, but only temporarily, and never for long. Throughout the mental exhaustion, I never gave up. It’s just not in me to do that. I will fight for what I believe in until i take my last breath. There have been both good and bad experiences. I have learned that some people I thought were my friends, are not, but I have also made new friendships that have been built on blood, sweat, and tears while trying to achieve a common goal. These friendships are the best kind. I am grateful for all of them. I have seen people in positions of power, use their authority in the most sneaky, dirty, underhanded ways. These people use their power to crush those beneath them. What these people will find out, if they haven’t already, is, I am NOT so easy to crush. I am not intimidated. I never back down. I willingly accept the challenge. I will not go quietly or gently into the night, I will take some along with me for that ride. I mean, literally, I am a survivor!  #metoo

lighted matchstick on brown wooden surface
Photo by Sebastian Sørensen on Pexels.com

 

I just want all of you to know that I deeply appreciate every word of encouragement, every message of support, and every kind gesture that so many of you sent my way. I even want to thank those that have taught me valuable lessons. I absorbed it all. There are no bad lessons. Just lessons well learned. I took one on the chin a few months ago, for something I believed in. I still believe in it or I wouldn’t be here. I just pulled my head out of the sand and chose to see the reality around me instead of the yarn that was being spun. It was like I was lost in the desert staring at a mirage. The image i was clinging to inevitably ebbed away. I’m staring back at a place that holds no sustenance, and if I don’t start moving I will slowly die waiting for it to come to me. 

You may hurt me but you will never define who I am or what I stand for.  Every struggle I have faced has made me stronger, smarter, and more resilient as a woman. I did not break. I will never break. I have the strength of too many women behind me to not carry on and move forward. I have many male friends and allies that I can count on to support me when I need it. I thank every one of you. 

I know I may have taken some people by surprise, that’s why I’m a wild card. I can honestly say that it shouldn’t have come as a shock. I felt like I got backed into a corner. This requires a defensive play. I was not disillusioned. I knew what I was up against; patriarchy. Again, I was defeated by power, money, and an unfair system. That’s alright though. I learn something new every…single…time, and throw in my own spin just for fun. I accept all challenges head-on, and i am eagerly looking forward to the next one that comes my way. 

black queen chess piece
Photo by George Becker on Pexels.com

 

Ladies, just remember we are as powerful, intelligent, and as calculating as any man on the planet. We are a force to be reckoned with, especially when we stick together. Remember that. 

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My ❤️ My Legacy

www.facebook.com/613785897/posts/10158242309945898

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My Moral Dilemma – Yes, I’m Still Talking About Racism

 

 

Four years ago I felt compelled to get involved in national politics in my local riding in New Brunswick. I always paid attention to the goings-on in the world, but from a safe place sitting on the sidelines. My passion for women’s equality, coupled with a drive to do something to make a difference in my community, my province, and my country, spurred me to randomly hit a volunteer button on a Facebook page one day while I was scrolling through my news feed. It was a political candidate page for Fredericton MP Matt DeCourcey. I knew nothing about Matt prior to stumbling upon his advertisement to recruit volunteers. After reading up on who he was and the objectives he set out to accomplish, I listened to my gut instinct and delved in further. Something made me press that button that day. I had never done anything of the like before. I honestly thought that my name would be one along side many, and that I would likely never be contacted. Instead, twenty minutes later I received a call from his volunteer coordinator asking me to get on board. I reluctantly said “yes.” Much to my surprise, she asked me if I could meet them that evening and join Matt going door-to-door to talk to residents in the riding. That day was a significant turning point in my life. It ignited the spark that was lying in wait. Matt was someone I could easily get behind, and the ideologies of the party lined up almost perfectly with my own sense of what is right and what is wrong. The spark that was ignited that day has turned into a raging fire. It’s an inferno I am not able to extinguish. I have been actively involved in volunteering for Matt’s team every time I am asked, no matter what the request is, unless I am working, injured, or travelling. This is a party for which I feel immense affiliation and loyalty. There have been some mistakes made along the way, we are not perfect, but overall I am happy with our party, and our vision of what Canada is, and should be. You see, I was raised by an educated, community-involved, socially concious family. There are many snippets of wisdom I can recall my father imparting on me when I was a youth as I was on my way out the door to hang out with friends. “Keep your head on straight” was something I frequently heard. Another, oft-repeated lesson he impressed upon me was, “there is a right thing to do, and a wrong thing to do.” At the time it seemed fluffy and philosophical; it didn’t impact my way of thinking immediately. I was a teenager, I had bigger things to worry about. As I aged and made mistakes, especially colossal ones, those expressions my father recounted to me when I was young would spin around in my mind like a neon sign, reminding me of my roots, reminding me of the values they instilled in me; values that grabbed a firm hold inside and grew exponentially through every difficult situation and moral equivocation I have ever had to consider. It is what made me sit for months every day with my developmentally challenged aunt while she was dying of brain cancer, despite the initial instinct to want to protect my own mental health with physical distance. It is what demanded me to take on a corporate giant all alone for ignoring discriminating practices in the work place against women… and win. It is what made me sit for over an hour on the side of a dark, deserted highway with a young girl that slid in the ditch, waiting for her parents to arrive, because I couldn’t leave her alone and vulnerable. There is ALWAYS a right thing to do and a wrong thing to do.

presnewborn

When I recently heard about leadership candidates rumoured to be running in New Brunswick for my party, I decided to look into things a little further. I had been hearing conjecture up until that point without any evidence, so I started scrolling through Facebook to glean some information. Like that day four years ago, I felt something I couldn’t explain. I felt nervous, if not somewhat unsubstantiated apprehension about one possible candidate. The other candidate gave me a good feeling, but I still didn’t know enough. I messaged several candidates and asked pointed questions. Just to be clear about something, I am not a person that gets a “gut feeling” very often. I believe in science-based evidence and reasonable conclusions based on logical hypotheses. Almost every gut feeling I have ever had has been related to a man. Perhaps my past childhood trauma, inflicted by a man who had power over me, forced me to consider subtleties very closely. I know I am not the only woman who experiences this. After a few weeks of talking to random people about the candidates, comments about one candidate, such as, “a black man will never win” started to make my stomach clinch. I knew that we were openly racist years ago. I thought we were over that kind of thinking, other than the pockets of knuckle-draggers that embrace overt racist ideology. I really thought the general population of New Brunswick had grown over the years and embraced diversity. We talk about it all the time. We espouse it in our advertisements, in our language, and in our schools. We all say the right things at the appropriate times; but when it comes right down to it, we all still hold onto our prejudice. If we confirm these biases with the language we use, are we not embracing racist ideology? By saying, and agreeing with, “a black man will never get elected in NB”, we are giving weight to and instilling that very concept. A concept that states, it’s okay to be a person of colour and live here; live here and contribute to our economy, pay taxes and help us build, but for God sakes do not for one minute think about leading our white province. No Way. If you have deceived yourself into thinking, “it’s not me that thinks that way, it’s everybody else. It’s just the way it is”, then I have some questions for you. How do you think others came to this conclusion? Did you take a poll? Did you talk to every New Brunswicker? Was there a news story I missed that addressed these issues then came up with this conclusion? People have reached this conclusion because they have discussed it. They have discussed it, and are okay with it. They have accepted this way of thinking as being okay. It’s not. It’s far from okay. It’s downright embarrassing and disappointing. I do not want to leave our children with a province that is known to be racist. We are better than that. We are New Brunswickers. We are Maritimers. We are supposed to be the most friendly and welcoming people in all of Canada. We can’t just give the best opportunities to white people. We can not afford to stick our head in the sand about this isuue any longer. I thought I had a good handle on our provincial “temperature.” I thought we were inclusive and accepting; until I started to “unofficially” help a black political candidate. My reality was shaken to it’s core; it was a direct assault to my senses. Every politician of every political stripe knows how badly we need immigration to help build our population, our economy, and our province. Why would others want to come here if they are going to be treated differently? How can we invite other people to live here, and then treat them like the enemy when we do? Maybe more people would settle here if they felt welcome, and included, and accepted, not judged.

I agonized for weeks over whether to assist a candidate with a campaign. Initially I had no reservations, but after hearing so many negative comments because of the colour of his skin(even one from my own family), I felt inner turmoil. I was told not to waste my time. I was told a black man won’t win. I was told to wait and get on board with the “winning” team. I was told that New Brunswick was just racist and not to stress myself out by giving too much thought to it. I felt the barrier like it was a tangible thing; like it was a WALL.  I was comfortable with my decision initially because I was woefully ignorant about how we really think in New Brunswick. I had my head in the sand. When I first saw this candidate I didn’t even give a thought to what colour his skin was or where he was born. I looked at his education, experience, qualifications, and his level of compassion and dedication towards those that are disadvantaged and less fortunate. I saw a person that demonstratively cares about the little person and felt good about that; then others started filling my head with doubt and comments that caused me anxiety. It was only a few days ago that I realized the source of my anxiety. My granddaughter is a visible minority with brown skin.

me n presley
Proud to be Grammy to this little girl from the Saint Mary’s First Nation

 

I suddenly made the connection. She was going to face the same kinds of awful things other non-white people do who live here in New Brunswick. This realization hit me like a brick in the face, and triggered a primal, maternal instinct in me that is an incredibly inexplicable, powerful force. This is now personal. The internal struggle that was fiercely battling inside me ended the moment I realized I was fighting for the future of my grandaughter and others like her.  The values my family instilled in me demand I live up to the those expectations left with me. Everything changed for me a few years ago, the moment I realized I would be leaving this legacy to my own children. I have to show them and my granddaughter that doing the right thing is hard sometimes. It can be isolating, and can leave you feeling vulnerable. I’ll be perfectly honest, up until I realized what was at stake for my granddaughter’s future, there was a part of me that wanted to give in to the external pressures I had been facing; to make life easier for myself. Herein lies my dilemma; do the easy thing, or do the right thing. I know I’m facing an uphill battle but it’s one I will gladly climb for the sake of my children, my granddaughter, and for the future of New Brunswick. I’d rather take the loss than live with the regret; otherwise I’m rejecting the very same values that I, and those I hold most dearly, treasure the most. Win, lose, or draw I am on #teamwinner. I choose the side of right over might.

 

Breaking Barriers, featured content, Life From A Feminist's Perspective, Living Life On Your Own Terms, Pressing the Hot Button, Racism, Thoughts to Ponder, Women's Issues

Reacting to Racism

My beautiful, adventurous, thoughtful granddaughter. A proud St. Mary’s First Nation band member.

This is by far one of the trickiest posts I have attempted to write; mostly because I feel like I have to tread lightly here, and I don’t like that feeling. It’s like walking on egg shells. I refuse to be intimidated or non-overtly bullied. I’ve never allowed it since I was a kid; I’m not about to start now. I make a consious effort to be open-minded, and to consider all perspectives. I often land somewhere in the grey area between the black and white. There are; however, lines drawn in the sand for one or two specific issues. These are lines that I don’t cross. Some people are trying to put their foot down on that line. I’m not afraid to tell you it really hurts my heart. There are some things that need to be said, about who we are, about what we represent, about the ideals we embrace, and about how we think and act towards others. Especially towards others that look different, or have different cultures or customs than we do in our homonogeously white province.

I heard racial comments about a candidate running in a leadership race when I was out and about recently. The candidate is a man of colour.  I’m positive my mouth dropped opened and I know my eyes were surely as wide as saucers. I wear my heart on my face not on my sleeve. It’s called resting-bitch-face for a reason. I did not say anything. I let it slide. I made excuses. I kept the peace. Days later I noticed this candidate’s face on my profile when I was scrolling through Facebook. I took some time to do a little research about what this candidate could offer. I was impressed with some aspects about this candidate but there was an area of concern. I always exercise due diligence and seek as much information as possible, from as many different sources as can. I analyse everything from every conceivable avenue so that I can make a fact-based decision. Part of my research was talking to random people I knew from different backgrounds and socio-economic classes. The first time someone actually said to me, “NB will never elect a black man“, there is no way possible I could impress upon you the superhuman effort it took for me not to bite this person’s head off, figuratively speaking. I thought maybe it was an anomaly. I was sadly proven wrong the days following the first incident. Pretty soon, no matter who I asked, the response was, “We are not ready to elect a black man yet. It’s not me that thinks that. We are just not ready.”  I lost count of how many people told me various versions of the same thing. So, I have some questions:

When will we be ready?

Next year?

2025??

When?

You see, I have been squashing my feelings about this every single time someone has said words to me about this candidate, this man of colour. I have a precious, beautiful, smarter-than-your-average-bear granddaughter. She is almost 3 years old. She is aboriginal. She is a person of colour. The message I’m receiving is this: it sucks that parts of, or lots of people in NB are so racist, but… it is what it is. Translated: my granddaughter, a person of colour, has no hope in hell of every considering running for political office in NB. Two strikes against her right off the bat; her skin colour and her gender. I will say this much. Like I did for my children, I will do everything in my power to ensure this astounding little girl, and others like her, will have every opportunity available. I do not accept willful ignorance about racism. I do not accept that this is the way it will always be. We can do better and we have to do better. We can’t keep teaching the younger generations that this is the way things should be. Racism isn’t born, it is taught. 

Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com
Breaking Barriers, Discrimination Against Women In Sciences, Gender Discrimination In The WorkPlace, Life From A Feminist's Perspective, Living Life On Your Own Terms, Women's Issues

Climbing her Everest

“I was taught that the way of progress is neither swift nor easy.” – Marie Currie in Pierre Currie (1936), 167

https://todayinsci.com/C/Curie_Marie/CurieMarie-Quotations.htm

Like everyone else, I take on issues that are near and dear to my heart. I’m a women who has experienced unfair practices at work because of my gender. I don’t think there’s a woman alive that hasn’t felt the sting of discrimination. We’ve been made to feel less than, or out of place and uncomfortable in certain situations. If there is a woman that has been unscathed by aspects of discrimination, I’d like to talk to her and find out what her secret is. We all feel it. We either let it bounce off or take it to heart and let it spur a call to action within ourselves. I have done both. It’s important to pick our battles. I can’t fight every cause out there, although I feel very strongly about many of them. I can only speak about my own experiences and of those whom I’ve witnessed enduring frustrating accepted practices while trying to break down barriers. Some of us are killing it, some of us are coasting, and some of us are barely making it. The fact that women still face discrimination in the work force is common knowledge. Women facing discrimination in STEM fields is not as commonly discussed. These are areas that have been, and still are, dominated my men. These are very competitive fields that require a significant commitment to years of education, time, and research. My daughter is a women of science, educated in medicinal chemistry; a second year PhD candidate in the very competitive field of pharmacology. She’s more than half way up that mountain. This is her Everest. She’s planned each moment down to every last detail.

For clarification purposes, pharmacology is not the same as pharmacy. Pharmacy briefly defined is: a profession in which a licensed Pharmacist dispenses, monitors, administers, and counsels about prescription drugs and overall well-being.

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/pharmacist

Pharmacology briefly defined is: the science of drugs; including their origin, composition, pharmacokinetics, therapeutic use, and toxicology.

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/pharmacologyhttps://www.merriam-webster.com

My daughter first experienced discrimination when she was in high school. As a top honours student, she took education very seriously. She knew the goals she had in mind and focused like a lion bearing down on it’s prey. Suddenly she was struggling. She was having a hard time in a relatively easy class. It was a male teacher. She felt creeped out by him. This teacher was very flirty and had leering eyes. My daughter’s friend had no issue being that “teacher’s pet.” My daughter had a huge issue. This teacher had the perfect set up for having complete power and control over whomever he wanted. There were no tests. There were no exams. There were no definitive ways to demonstrate knowledge learned. My daughter had to rely on a man she felt uncomfortable around, in a course that she needed, with a marking scheme over which she had no control. When she finally told me, I approached the school like a mother bear protecting her cub. The administration did a great job at two things; keeping it quiet and doing as little as possible to help my daughter. Long story short, the teacher was very calculating and raised her marks just enough to give her a 94.4% final average. Great mark! Not good enough for the biggest scholarship prizes. She still received decent scholarships, enough that she had very little to no debt throughout her undergrad years. An interesting point about this is; the teacher’s pet who won the huge scholarships, dropped out of sciences in university. My daughter pressed on with nothing but her end goal in mind.

https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/voices/gender-discrimination-in-science-is-especially-common/

While she was an undergrad she did a biophysical chemistry internship at an Ivy league school. This is where she found herself in a position of having to endure discrimination yet again in order to get ahead. All the men at this world class research facility were allowed to wear shorts; not women. Men could wear sandals; not women. Women couldn’t show any leg or ankle in the lab but for men it was tolerated. The last issue for my daughter was dealing with her own feelings about how women feel they need to portray themselves to get ahead or to be taken seriously. When she applied for grad school she had a series of Skype interviews that determined, in part, whether or not she would be accepted into this very prestigious, very competitive program. When I saw her right before her interview, I noticed how dressed down she was, and how she wore no make up. I questioned her about this. Her reply was, “I don’t want to look too pretty.” A little part of me died inside hearing this. Not just because she felt that way, but because society still puts such huge pressure on women to look one way or another for certain roles. One thing is for sure; forging ahead facing unique challenges in life is certain to test the will and strength of any woman. I’m happy to say that my daughter, who sacrificed so much to be where she is today, is settled and knows where she is going. The rigid demands of applying for funding, doing research, getting published, and going to classes are offset by intermittent visits home and letting loose with friends; sporting the confidence of an educated, worldly young woman.

“I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change, I am changing the things I can not accept.” ~ Angela Davis

Allow Yourself To Have Fun

My daughter has subscribed to the high performance pressure that has been put on the women in our family for a long time. Her accomplishments are great and I’m obviously fiercely proud. What makes me happier lately is knowing that she has learned to let her hair down and have fun. This is very important for somebody who has tunnel vision with an unyielding dedication to her education. She’s learning that it’s not just about reaching the summit. It’s the climb.

Breaking Barriers, Dealing With Mental Illness, featured content, Living With Anxiety, Suicide Prevention

Suicide Prevention

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Suicide has affected my family on two separate occasions. It’s the people we would sometimes least expect that opt out. It’s important to pay attention to those around you. Isolation is one of the biggest factors of mental illness.

Somebody is always there at the other end of the phone, or computer; whatever is more comfortable.

https://www.mentalhealthcommission.ca/English/what-we-do/suicidesuicide-prevention

http://www.suicide.org/hotlines/international/canada-suicide-hotlines.html\

Photo by Helena Lopes on Pexels.com

Call: 1-833-456-4566 – 24/7 –  For Help

Breaking Barriers, Discrimination Against Women In Sciences, featured content, Gender Discrimination In The WorkPlace, Life From A Feminist's Perspective, Living Life On Your Own Terms, Thoughts to Ponder, Women's Issues

Climbing her Everest

“I was taught that the way of progress is neither swift nor easy.” – Marie Currie in Pierre Currie (1936), 167

https://todayinsci.com/C/Curie_Marie/CurieMarie-Quotations.htm

Like everyone else, I take on issues that are near and dear to my heart. I’m a women who has experienced unfair practices at work because of my gender. I don’t think there’s a woman alive that hasn’t felt the sting of discrimination. We’ve been made to feel less than, or out of place and uncomfortable in certain situations. If there is a woman that has been unscathed by aspects of discrimination, I’d like to talk to her and find out what her secret is. We all feel it. We either let it bounce off or take it to heart and let it spur a call to action within ourselves. I have done both. It’s important to pick our battles. I can’t fight every cause out there, although I feel very strongly about many of them. I can only speak about my own experiences and of those whom I’ve witnessed enduring frustrating accepted practices while trying to break down barriers. Some of us are killing it, some of us are coasting, and some of us are barely making it. The fact that women still face discrimination in the work force is common knowledge. Women facing discrimination in STEM fields is not as commonly discussed. These are areas that have been, and still are, dominated my men. These are very competitive fields that require a significant commitment to years of education, time, and research. My daughter is a women of science, educated in medicinal chemistry; a second year PhD candidate in the very competitive field of pharmacology. She’s more than half way up that mountain. This is her Everest. She’s planned each moment down to every last detail.

For clarification purposes, pharmacology is not the same as pharmacy. Pharmacy briefly defined is: a profession in which a licensed Pharmacist dispenses, monitors, administers, and counsels about prescription drugs and overall well-being.

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/pharmacisthttps://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/pharmacist

Pharmacology briefly defined is: the science of drugs; including their origin, composition, pharmacokinetics, therapeutic use, and toxicology.

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/pharmacologyhttps://www.merriam-webster.com

My daughter first experienced discrimination when she was in high school. As a top honours student, she took education very seriously. She knew the goals she had in mind and focused like a lion bearing down on it’s prey. Suddenly she was struggling. She was having a hard time in a relatively easy class. It was a male teacher. She felt creeped out by him. This teacher was very flirty and had leering eyes. My daughter’s friend had no issue being that “teacher’s pet.” My daughter had a huge issue. This teacher had the perfect set up for having complete power and control over whomever he wanted. There were no tests. There were no exams. There were no definitive ways to demonstrate knowledge learned. My daughter had to rely on a man she felt uncomfortable around, in a course that she needed, with a marking scheme over which she had no control. When she finally told me, I approached the school like a mother bear protecting her cub. The administration did a great job at two things; keeping it quiet and doing as little as possible to help my daughter. Long story short, the teacher was very calculating and raised her marks just enough to give her a 94.4% final average. Great mark! Not good enough for the biggest scholarship prizes. She still received decent scholarships, enough that she had very little to no debt throughout her undergrad years. An interesting point about this is; the teacher’s pet who won the huge scholarships, dropped out of sciences in university. My daughter pressed on with nothing but her end goal in mind.

https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/voices/gender-discrimination-in-science-is-especially-common/

While she was an undergrad she did a biophysical chemistry internship at an Ivy league school. This is where she found herself in a position of having to endure discrimination yet again in order to get ahead. All the men at this world class research facility were allowed to wear shorts; not women. Men could wear sandals; not women. Women couldn’t show any leg or ankle in the lab but for men it was tolerated. The last issue for my daughter was dealing with her own feelings about how women feel they need to portray themselves to get ahead or to be taken seriously. When she applied for grad school she had a series of Skype interviews that determined, in part, whether or not she would be accepted into this very prestigious, very competitive program. When I saw her right before her interview, I noticed how dressed down she was, and how she wore no make up. I questioned her about this. Her reply was, “I don’t want to look too pretty.” A little part of me died inside hearing this. Not just because she felt that way, but because society still puts such huge pressure on women to look one way or another for certain roles. One thing is for certain; forging ahead facing unique challenges in life is certain to test the will and strength of any woman. I’m happy to say that my daughter, who sacrificed so much to be where she is today, is settled and knows where she is going. The rigid demands of applying for funding, doing research, getting published, and going to classes are offset by intermittent visits home and letting loose with friends; sporting the confidence of an educated, worldly, young woman.

“I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change, I am changing the things I can not accept.” ~ Angela Davis

https://artmuseumteaching.com/2017/10/11/changing-the-things-we-cannot-accept/

Allow Yourself To Have Fun

My daughter has subscribed to the high performance pressure that has been put on the women in our family for a long time. Her accomplishments are great and I’m obviously fiercely proud. What makes me happier lately is knowing that she has learned to let her hair down and have fun. This is very important for somebody who has tunnel vision with an unyielding dedication to her education. Shes learning that it’s not just about reaching the summit. It’s the climb.

featured content, Life From A Feminist's Perspective, Living Life On Your Own Terms, Living With Anxiety, Pressing the Hot Button, Thoughts to Ponder, Women's Issues

What Is A Strong Woman?

What constitutes a strong woman? According to the Oxford dictionary, the definition of strength varies according to the context in which it’s used. One can be physically strong, have mental fortitude, or even an unwavering conviction in a belief system. It can’t be narrowed down to just one singular definition, applicable only in a specific situation. Context is crucial. The same can be said for strong women.

https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/strength

Some mothers work 40 hours a week, only to return home and provide the care-taking responsibilities that have been assigned to them because of gender since birth; making supper, washing dishes, folding laundry, driving kids around to extracurricular activities, grocery shopping, recycling, and play dates. The list goes on and on. Plenty of women work 60 hours a week, serve on committees, play competitive sports, go to the gym and maybe volunteer at a youth camp. Then there are the women who suffer through emotional and/or physical abuse because they are not financially independent, and have likely driven people they love away in order to conceal the abuse. They walk on eggshells, trying to do the right thing so that they won’t get beat down, only to inevitably fail. They don’t fail themselves, they fail to meet the impossible expectations of the individual who wields complete physical and emotional control over them. These women often use themselves as a shield between the abuser and any children involved. There are so many women, in all walks of life, that are silently accepting their perceived fate in life. All of the women mentioned above possess a super human strength that only another woman would understand. On top of work and family responsibilities, women are most often the ones compelled to look after aging parents. I see this strength in every woman I know. We all have different circumstances in life, from income to belief systems, but we all share one thing in common; keeping it all together. Keeping everything running as smoothly as possible. We have to work harder to prove our worth, yet we are very often overlooked, despite the values we uphold and the skills we contribute. I am one of those strong women. I have been told this by many, but it is not something I need to be told. It’s nice to be acknowledged, but I know it. I feel it whenever something for which I feel very passionate about is raised or brought to my attention. Most frequently I feel my strength when no matter what life throws at me, I bounce back. I fall down every now and then, but I always stand up, brush off my knees, and challenge whatever is ahead of me. Life has been throwing me some curveballs lately. Most of these things I have no control over, which doesn’t help. One of the most difficult situations in life for me is when I can not be of any help to my kids. They are adults, and are accomplished in their own ways. My son’s neurological condition is a constant worry, ever present in the back of my mind. I am always mentally prepared to get a call about him having a seizure. Thankfully, it’s been a few years, and my mind has relaxed a bit, but a small part of me is reserved, no matter where I am or what I’m doing, to find that mental resiliency to be strong for my son. My daughter is away at school, shes very capable and healthy; fortunately, I don’t have to worry about her much. We only see each other a few times a year but we talk on the phone every day. When situations arise with her, I feel the powerlessness of the physical distance between us, and my inability to do anything to help her. The only thing I can do is listen and advise. The rest is up to her. This is a hard thing to do; to let go of your kids and let them live their lives. They make mistakes and learn from them. They celebrate when they’re triumphant. I can only observe and console or congratulate.

That Little Black Cloud

Besides unexpectedly losing a job a few weeks ago, I was recently in a motor vehicle accident. I relive the moments after impact often. I remember looking over at my dog, shaking like a leaf, sitting on the seat, realizing he must have made impact with the airbag, now billowing with smoke throughout the car. Thankfully nobody involved was seriously hurt but I think it’s fair to say we are all still feeling some pain from that collision.

I am optimistic by nature, so I tell myself “things can only look up from here.” The tip of the iceberg for me recently, is being told that my oldest brother, going through dialysis three times a week, may at some point need a kidney to survive. His best chances of finding a match is through an immediate family member. Health issues and age will make some unviable options. The weight of having to potentially make this decision at some point down the line is bearing down on me considerably. It’s not on the table yet but it’s up in the air. Somehow I keep finding the resiliency to stay in the fight, to be there for the people that need me, and honour the commitments I have made. I just keep going, relying on the strength and support of those around me. Most importantly, I find the strength within; to speak up, to speak out, and to follow up with action. I am no different than any other woman. Women are the glue that holds society together, of this there is no doubt.

Breaking Barriers, featured content, Life From A Feminist's Perspective, Living Life On Your Own Terms, Living With Anxiety, Pressing the Hot Button, Thoughts to Ponder, Women's Issues

Walking Through Fire

Life is tough sometimes. It’s tough for everyone. Nobody has it really easy. I know people like to pretend that they have the best, most perfect and positive life, but we know that usually isn’t the case. We all have struggles and they are as varied and vast as individuals themselves. That isn’t to say that some don’t have it easier than others. Some of our friends and family post these fantastic life stories on social media that would make any one a little jealous. The reality is most people aren’t posting their pain, their shame, and their embarrassments. Who wants to expose those vulnerabilities? Me, that’s who. I have found strength in sharing my weaknesses and troubles with others that have had similar experiences. So many of us are struggling with depression, anxiety and other mental health issues but we’ve been shamed as a society to admit it.

https://www.canada.ca/en/public-health/services/mental-health-services/mental-health-get-help.html

I struggle with anxiety. Sometimes it’s easier to deal with than others. When I was younger I felt more powerless against it. As I’ve aged I’ve learned how to cope and how to recognize the signs that I’m indulging in the insecurities that come with being anxious. A couple of different times in my life I have “gone off the deep end.” My mental resiliency has been tested on numerous occasions. I feel like I failed some of these life tests, mainly because I’m so hard on myself and have such high expectations of not only me, but everyone around me. My first serious test came after reporting my maternal grandfather for sexually abusing me when I was a child. The subsequent court cases that followed demanded a strength I didn’t know I had; to face the man that wounded me so deeply and irrevocably for the rest of my life. Even though he was found guilty, sent to prison, and lost an appeal, I always felt like there was something wrong with me. Somehow it was my fault. Even though I was just a kid, I couldn’t help but blame myself for not having the courage to stop it sooner. The ripple effect of that trial was losing contact with the maternal half of my family. We were ostracized by that part of the family for years, because my mother and father believed and supported me. My mother chose her daughter over her father, mother, siblings, and extended family. That’s the best mother anyone could ever ask for. It took me years to fully appreciate the loss she must have felt, and the sacrifice she made to support me. She is a remarkably strong woman that has probably never been properly acknowledged for her tenacity and unyielding love and support for her kids.

I staggered around in a shame-filled state for many years. I had a hard time dealing with the incredibly overpowering mental anguish I was suffering from. Despite being young and inexperienced at life, I could not allow myself any forgiveness for the serious character flaws that I thought I saw in myself during my youth. Now that I understand just how traumatic this event was, I am kinder to the memory my younger self. All the choices I made in the years after the abuse were normal, and typical of those that have been so seriously victimized. I’ve forgiven myself for the mistakes that I’ve made, but more importantly, I have learned not to give any thought to those that refuse to see how I’ve grown or acknowledge the changes that I’ve made throughout the course of my life. I wasted far too much time in my life worrying about what people thought of me. In my head I was already rejected before I could give anyone a proper chance to get to know me. I just assumed people weren’t going to like me. I was loud, hyper, outspoken, boisterous, adventurous, and tough. Very tough. I come from a predominantly religious family, I felt like I was most likely viewed as something akin to the devil himself. The long and short of it is; life is way to short to worry about what people think. There will always be people that don’t like you, for whatever reason. That’s ok. We are survivors. We always have each other.

My life has not been the easiest of journeys. Some things were thrown at me over which I had no control. My children’s serious health issues tested my resiliency. As is typical of me, I kept things together during the crisis, and then fell apart after the threat was gone. The latest and greatest test of my will and strength as a women, was when my developmentally challenged aunt died of brain cancer. I sat with her in the hospital every day, until the moment she took her last breath. The lessons she taught me about enjoying the simple things in life are still with me.

I have made colossal mistakes throughout my life. I was challenged by low self-esteem, and a lack of pride in the skills and talents that I had. I didn’t see myself as having any talents. Getting an education and having the support of my family and friends have contributed to me having a greater sense of self. I have pride in my accomplishments. Like a lot of parents, I feel my two greatest accomplishments were raising well-adjusted kids, despite my struggles being a young mother. I was a thrill-seeking hothead for most of my life. I had no fear. I lived for daring adventure and brought my kids along with me on that ride. There was never a dull moment. If I were a parent of young children now, my common sense as a middle-aged person would have surely kicked in. Instead, I raised two young kids when I was in my early 20’s. As is typical of the youthful mind, I thought nothing would ever happen to me. It would happen to somebody else. I felt invincible. It was this fearlessness that enabled me to let my kids follow me jumping off a local bridge into the river below. It took us swimming through rapids so strong that it would suck you down, twirl you around, and spit you back out again metres away. It led us to jumping a fence to pet a bear caged behind a steel fence. Crazy things to do, but I, nor my now fully grown children, have any regrets.

I have walked though the fire, but I did not come out the other side unscathed. Some scars never fully heal. Somehow I managed to raise university educated kids. My son has full custody of his young daughter. A girl born into a family of strong, dominant, confidant women. My daughter, a PhD candidate, is a scientist, blazing a trail for girls coming behind her from our small community in rural New Brunswick.

Life is tough sometimes, but like Dolly Parton said so eloquently, “if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.”

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Surviving or Thriving?

People that preach constant positivity bug me. I wish I lived in that fairytale land where everything comes up roses. I don’t. I live in reality. Life is great, and then it isn’t. Attitude is important and it will carry us through the tough times if we embrace a positive outlook, but let’s face it; it’s ok to acknowledge sadness or deep disappointment. It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to not be on all the time. My late grandmother was our family matriarch. She was a teacher. She was a lady. She was a hard worker at a time when when women didn’t go out to work often, especially in farmland communities in rural New Brunswick, where she ended up settling with my grandfather.

She grew up poor but lived in the city so unlike many women of her generation, she was educated. She was also a very devout Christian. This is where we butted heads. I have so much to thank her for though; primarily for my love of English and the gift of good communication skills that she bestowed upon me. The thing is, she placed crazy high expectations on the women in our family; sometimes unintentionally, but the end result was the same for each of us. We put immense pressure on ourselves to perform at a very high standard. When we fail to meet these impossible standards 100% of the time, anxiety issues arise. Questions and self-doubt creep in. Mental illness found its way into our family psyche and embedded itself into our brains. It proved to be too much for my grandmother’s daughter, and ended with her suicide a number of years ago. My aunt was a beautiful, accomplished nurse and mother. She had every reason to be proud of herself and her life. A classic example of someone that appeared to have it all, only to have it end so tragically. It seems to be a common theme. “She was always laughing,” is the thing I hear most often.

I never wanted to show any vulnerability in my life. My natural instinct is to show no weakness. My age and experience have taught me to see the beauty in being vulnerable and the magic that happens when that vulnerability is shared. The women that have reached out to me to share their own traumatic experiences have helped me grow through mine. I’ve been learning to let go of my own ridiculously high expectations and be easier on myself.

There have been some key incidents in my life that have defined me. I’m a child sexual abuse survivor. This changed how I saw myself from the moment my innocence was stolen, as well as acutely changing my view of the world around me and the people in it. I keenly understand why women hold onto their pain and don’t confront their abusers. Things don’t work our well either way. It took me years to get to a place where I’m ok with who I am and what has happened to me. I went through the proper channels of accountability and felt the relief when he was found guilty of abusing me. I was believed. I was vindicated. It didn’t make anything better though. I was a young woman struggling with usual issues of teenage angst compounded by the weight of guilt and shame that I felt.

#metoo

I became the strongest woman I could be. I would never allow myself to be victimized by a man again. I was a hard ass and I owned it. I still do. The school of hard knocks has hardened me in one hand but softened me in another. It gave me the strength to cope through my young daughter’s heart failure and subsequent surgery in the early 90’s. It led me through the trying times spent by my son’s hospital bed when he was a teenager; his brain being ravaged with seizures. Waiting anxiously while he was on life support, not knowing if he would live or die.

This inner strength allowed me to hold the hands of two of my loved ones as they took their last breaths and death welcomed them. I am a woman. I am a survivor. I am resilient. I handle whatever is thrown at me with a ferocity befitting of a mother lion guarding her cub. Sometimes I get down. Not often and never for long. I aim to thrive but some days I just survive. The world today is not for the feint of heart. As women, we need to work a little harder, a little longer, and be a little stronger to take our place in this world, because power only comes to those who seize it.