featured content, Life From A Feminist's Perspective, Political Hunger Games, Politics, Women's Issues

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

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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


Life From A Feminist's Perspective

Stepping Stones out of Stumbling Blocks

Winning

2019 was a hell of a year for me. It started in January when I got unexpectedly laid-off by SNC Lavalin. Losing gainful employment is, of course, very stress-inducing. Many New Brunswickers are facing this very prospect right now due to the measures being taken against the Covid 19 virus pandemic. Shortly after my time with SNC Lavalin, I was asked by an individual running in a political provincial leadership race, if I would help him. I agreed to help him because I am a nice person, and we were both affiliated with the same political party. I had also taken on additional responsibilities with this party during the same time period. Because I felt such push back against the leadership candidate who had originally asked for my assistance, I decided to dig in. This candidate was a visible minority, and had several other factors unique to him, that I had heard would be used against him to bring him down. I am an eternal defender of an underdog, especially when dirty tactics, and money and power come into play. This is a huge issue because those with selfish ideals and unscrupulous agendas are the ones who are calling the shots behind the scenes. These are the wealthy elite, who buy friendship, who buy loyalty, who buy favors, and who buy votes, for all intents and purposes. As I have stated in previous blog posts, I was already in the grasp of mental illness. I was trying so hard to do the right thing. I was trying so hard to convince others to do the right thing. So many agreed, but most couldn’t find the courage or the strength to come forward. Some were just selfish, the “what’s in it for me” stage of thinking that seems to come too easy for a lot of people. Despite my communications with the now, former executive director of this provincial political association, impressing upon him how badly I was struggling, and how the pressure that they were putting on me to conform was killing me, he and others, set out to deliberately cause me more harm, by using techniques that are known to be very harmful to those who are struggling with mental illness. A year of mistreatment from this party resulted in a dangerous depression. Rock bottom for me happened in early December. I almost lost my life. I almost lost my life on the steps of this party’s head quarters. They knew. They know. They don’t care. I have never heard a peep from one individual from that party, expressing concern for my well-being or my safety. That’s okay. It’s actually great. It was just what I needed to facilitate my own turn around. When I say the current administration and many MLA’s of this party are heartless monsters, I am not kidding. I mean every word. They are. After December 10th, I never looked back. Thankfully, I am in a really great place, thanks to modern medicine, therapy, and a plethora of supportive people around me. It’s a beautiful feeling. You may be wondering why I bring it up at all? I’ll tell you exactly why. The actions, and inaction of this party almost cost me my life. There is no way possible, I can allow them to do this to another living human being. I will never forget what they did. I will never let them forget what they did. I will continue to remind them, and other parties, that education about mental illness, and how to treat people who are struggling, is desperately needed. I will bring this to light at every possible opportunity.

“You either walk inside your own story and own it, or you stand outside your story & hustle for it’s worthiness.”

Brenee Brown

My story is a little rough around the edges. It’s full of mishaps and adventure. It’s full of pain and distrust. It’s full of success and triumph. It’s full of hate and anger. It’s full of understanding and forgiveness. It’s full of fear and uncertainty. It’s full of hope and perseverance. It’s full of love and caring. It’s full of empathy and compassion. Mine is a story of painful lessons and beautiful truths. When I first started writing this blog, I was sharing my pain and struggles, and how I tried to overcome them. Like any author’s writing, my writing style and process has evolved over time; it has become an intricate part of who I am and how I express myself. Throughout this process somewhere I discovered the power in being vulnerable. I accepted myself for all of my attributes, both good and bad. I can turn any negative into a positive, and I used the events of the past year in the same way. I don’t operate in the same way as other people, and just when you think you have me figured out, it’s a new day. Keep dreaming!

JEN SMITH

One of the best things about allowing yourself to be vulnerable, is that you allow truth to be the main aspect of your life. Most politicians are so concerned with their appearance, and putting on airs, that they hide the best parts or the worst parts – who they really are. I am beyond grateful that I am just able to be myself. I’ve been told by many for most of my life, to tone down certain parts of my personality. I used to. I gave that up for authenticity. I will not pretend for anyone; not for friends, not for family, and not for politics. No one. What you see is what you get, and I promise you two things: I pull no punches and I shoot straight from the hip. Perfection is not required to inspire or help others, they will be inspired by your ability to overcome your imperfections and struggles. 2019 was one of the toughest years of my life. 2020 is my year, watch for it!

“When you see the bright eyes lined with fire, of all the women standing behind you ready to push you aside, you will know we are here.” -Jen Smith the WordSmith

Breaking Barriers, featured content, Political Hunger Games, Politics, Pressing the Hot Button

My Run For Political Office – New Maryland Sunbury

Jen Smith New Maryland Sunbury

I am formally announcing my intention to run for MLA, in the New Maryland Sunbury Riding, as a Registered Independent Candidate, in the next Provincial election, whenever that date is determined in the not-so-distant future.

I have had extensive experience volunteering for a political party for a number of years, and I have gained much needed knowledge of how our political system works, and how by design, the odds are clearly and blatantly stacked in favour of our two main provincial political parties.

I was born in Oromocto, and have lived in Geary for most of my life, surrounded by many of my family members. I work as a Human Resources Administrator at the Canadian Forces School of Military Engineering. My daughter is a PhD candidate at McGill University, and my son is a single father of a little girl and also works full-time for Xerox in Saint John.

I will delve into deeper issues for which I stand in the near future. For now I will say this much; I am an intelligent, articulate, empathetic person, but I am also very well-known for being a fierce and formidable opponent. One thing I, and the multitude of people I have had conversations with in our riding, know with absolute certainty is, we need a voice. We need a strong voice. We need someone who will fight for the people who have been forgotten. We need someone who can speak freely, without having to tow a party line. We need someone in the New Maryland Sunbury Riding, who will fight for our needs, and for our best interests, not for what’s in the best interest for the governing party of the day. That someone is me.

Today is International Women’s Day. I am extremely proud to announce my political aspirations, on a feminist site, and share it to a movement that is based on absolute truth and accountability, founded by women, but supported by many; on a day devoted to celebrating women and all of our accomplishments. This is an amazingly powerful feeling. Thank you to every woman who fought for our rights, and made it possible for me to undertake this ambitious endeavor. Thank you.

There is another thing that I am well-know for; that is being a relentless debater and fighter for what I believe in. I protect those I care about. I protect my own. I will protect and defend my riding and my community like they are my own. I protect my people. Ya’ll are my people. Welcome to the fold.

Jen Smith – New Maryland Sunbury Independent Candidate

featured content, Life From A Feminist's Perspective, Living Life On Your Own Terms, Women's Issues

Small Town Girl – Big Time Heart

Country Strong

I grew up about ten minutes from, Oromocto, in the middle of the woods; one of the last, sparsely, spaced houses at the end of a dead-end road. In the country, in the middle of nowhere, Geary. I’ve always loved where I lived, I still do to this day. It’s a very different life than growing up in the city. Each way of life has its advantages and disadvantages. I learned things at which some city girls would be aghast. That’s okay though. We are all meant to be different and we all have our own strengths. I’ve always been one to do things on my own, but during the past year, I have been learning to ask for help. It’s getting a little easier now. Humility is a wonderful lesson. We all have something to be grateful for. I can’t help but reflect on the reasons why I love my community so much. Everything that I have learned, I learned country-style.

I was brought up in the seventies and eighties. It wasn’t just a different time. It was a different planet, in a different universe, compared to how things are now. My father worked for the government, so he was home most evening and weekends. I followed him around outdoors, instead of helping my mother with indoor chores. They probably wanted me outside so I could burn off excess energy, and I had plenty of it. There was no such thing as an ADHD diagnosis back in those days. No, I was labelled hyperactive and henceforth on, was put on a more restrive diet. The number one thing to go from my meal repertoire was sugar, in any shape or form. I’m thankful I had friends to help me out by sharing their chocolate bars, or treats with me. This usually ended up with me “acting out”. I’d talk incessently, and get myself and whomever I was “pestering” in trouble for talking during class hours. Weekends were a mixed blessing. It was awesome to be out of school but Saturday’s in my house growing up were work days. That’s when we got all the chores done, the extra chores. We went out in our wood lot and cut down trees for the wood stove. This meant splitting the wood, loading it in trailers, unloading in our yard and tossing it in basement , just to get ranked again. I followed my father around and watched him work on cars, change tires, and other general duties required to maintain a home and yard. I learned that work comes first and play comes after the job is done. Any job doing is worth doing well. I learned to use tools, and drive tractors. I helped build fences, barns, and decks. I dug for worms. I baited my own hook. I learned to fish. I learned to tie flys. I learned to flyfish. I learned from a young age how to handle guns properly and responsibly. I knew to always assume a weapon was loaded. I knew never to point a gun at anyone, ever.
I shot skeet and trap. I learned to how to track and how to hunt.

Family and community tradition

I learned about gardening and growing food. I learned about caring for animals. I learned about having a sense of community spirit. I learned about death, and the pain that comes with it after losing the treasured pets and farm animals we had over the years.

A country girl…
…turned city girl

I learned that no matter how many hours and days you spend picking rocks out of the ground to help grow a nice lawn, the rocks always “grow” back. I learned to appreciate being able to see every star in the night’s sky.
I learned to identify various bird calls. I listened to the screams of fox at and howls of coyotes from my bedroom window. I learned about respecting our forests from our wood lot.
I learned to start fires. I learned to ride bikes, sleds, wheelers, tractors, and any truck.
I learned to climb trees and make tree forts. I learned how to ford small brooks and streams. I learned how to read a compass. I learned about wildlife all around me. I learned how to take care of farm animals. I rode horses. I played softball. I hung out with friends from the community. Everybody knew everybody back in those days. Those days are long gone. It’s okay. Time always marches on, with or without us. The important thing is that we learn. We learn to live, we learn to love, and we learn to laugh. We also learn from out mistakes. The most important thing I learned growing up is there is nothing that life can throw at me that I can’t handle.
.

Country Tough

Despite my father’s efforts to make me well-rounded and independant, i had a strict, religious, grandmother. Our family matriarch since I was a small child. She was a teacher, an English Teacher. She taught me how to be a lady. She is ultimately responsible for my exceptional communication skils. The rest of what she tried to impress upon me is still there, it’s just that I don’t call it up for action that often. My grandmother and I were very different people, and that’s okay. She gave me one of the greatest gift’s life has given me, my love of the English language.

Ruby Smith

Growing up in rural New Brunswick taught me things not every little girl grows up to learn. I grew accustomed to certain ways of life being a country girl. It’s a little more rough-and-tumble where I come from, a little rough-around-the-edges to some. I had two older brothers; one was just a year older than me. I learned to fight. I had to. They made me tough. We watched out for each other. The whole community watched out for each other’s kids. It was a different time but I don’t love it any less. I am not afraid of change. I welcome it. I think we’ve been stuck in the past in New Brunswick for way to long. The past is a nice place to visit, to reminisce, but we desperately need to move forward into the future. We need to make some serious changes if we don’t want to see the same thing over and over again. United we stand, divided we fall. We have community. We have hope. We have each other.

My brothers and me in the 70’s
Dealing With Mental Illness, featured content, Life From A Feminist's Perspective, Living With Anxiety, Political Hunger Games, Suicide Prevention, Women's Issues

The Power of Vulnerability

Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage” – Brené Brown

https://medium.com/the-mission/how-to-embrace-vulnerability-as-your-greatest-strength-d2ac2b80ba52
Support Women, Empower Women
The Truth Movement NB
She is New Brunswick

It’s no big secret that I have been struggling for a few months. I only recognized the signs of my own depression in the middle of June this year. In hindsight, I can clearly see the signs I was exhibiting, which started sometime in January. I went down hill from there. I went downhill, because I wasn’t aware. I went downhill because, initially, the people around me either weren’t aware or they didn’t care. Either way, this is unacceptable. Whether it was from lack of education on how to treat someone with mental illness or whether actions were knowingly taken to undermine and cause further harm, the obligation is on the organization to implement the laws that govern the responsibilities which institutions are required to undertake and adhere to . This institution has a legal requirement not to discriminate, neither overtly nor non-overtly, against an individual with mental illness. When the very people and the institutions that are responsible for governing us, that write legislation, and approve funding, have zero awareness or empathy for their own people who are struggling with mental illness, where does that leave everyone else, given the prevalence of mental illness in New Brunswick? It leaves everyone out in the cold. It leaves them alone to struggle, to play Russian roulette with their lives. It leaves those who are struggling to function everyday, alone and afraid to reach out for help; it isn’t there anyways, so who are they reaching out to? It leaves out the families and friends of those who are suicidal, desperate to find help, compassion, and understanding. It leaves them out in the cold, with no one to reach out to for help. It isn’t there. Mental illness is not taken seriously by our elected officials. It’s an uncomfortable topic. People don’t like to talk about things that make them uncomfortable. We have people of all ages, all backgrounds, all socioeconomic statuses, and educational accomplishments, who complete suicide everyday. We all heard about the very tragic, public suicide in our province recently. We’ve all had a chance to hear other people’s stories, about the desperation felt by those struggling, and by the friends and the family members who are desperate to find them help, only to discover it isn’t there. My family has experienced two suicides in recent years; both beautiful women. One of them very young, with hardly an opportunity to experience life; the other, an educated, accomplished, woman, who had every reason to be proud of herself. My own depression has brought me to a surprising place on two different occasions. I had never before experienced what I have gone through in recent months. I couldn’t have fathomed it until I personally experienced it. I took all the necessary steps to recover. I did everything I could to pull myself out of the deep state I was in. It lasted…for a while. Another fall was inevitable. It was inevitable because I wasn’t being honest with myself. I wasn’t thinking of my own goals, my own passions, my own fire. I couldn’t work towards getting better because I was still feeling conflicted. I was still feeding the anger. I was pushing things I didn’t want to think about aside. I was unable to make a decision. I was being pulled in so many different directions, it made me struggle with my inability to see a clear path. It hit me, very suddenly, dead in the face, just the other day. When it did, an instant calmness and acceptance washed over me. The light finally came on, and I was able to make a decision. I felt at peace with it. I still do. I’m doing what’s best for me and channeling my sense of purpose into areas that ignite the inferno in my soul. I know what I need to focus on, and my intensity and passions will take me where I need to be, where I belong. I found the courage I had all along, it was just steamrolled out of me temporarily. It made me falter. It shook my confidence. It was like taking a bat to the knees. It brought me down, but I have been slowly crawling my way back up to a standing position, gloves up, chin protected. Sharing my vulnerability has given me so much strength. I faced my fears and chased down my demons, exposing all the things about myself that I perceived as weakness, I tossed these painful truths out at the world, and I felt immediate connections with others who reached out to me; some to offer strength and support, other’s to share their pain and struggles. Each one of these people, played a crucial part in keeping me here in this world, at a time when I didn’t feel worthy enough to be a part of it; they helped me see my story isn’t over yet.

Reach Out Your Hand, You might Just Save A Life

“You have to be burning with an idea, or a problem, or a wrong that you want to right. If you’re not passionate enough from the start, you’ll never stick it out.” Steve Jobs

Mental Illness Affects More People Than You Might Think

The thing about depression, anxiety, and other mental illnesses, is they are much more prevalent than some might think. It dramatically increases in those over age forty. The fear of stigma and judgement usually keeps those who are suffering from asking for help. Tell your story. It might just be the lifeline someone else clings to that offers them a sliver of hope. You are not alone. Share your story. It will get better.

https://www.camh.ca/en/driving-change/the-crisis-is-real/mental-health-statistics

Fierce, Friendly, Feisty, Formidable
The Truth Movement NB
She is New Brunswick

Depression Kills

My life-long anxiety made me more vulnerable to the depression that hit me this summer. I experienced a dramatic shift in my thinking over the winter. People I had put blind faith in, and gave automatic trust to, were not deserving of it. Lesson learned. Always lessons to be learned, and I often learn them the hard way. I tried to hold on as long as I could considering the circumstances. I’ve had to forgive myself for feeling the failure of not being able to live up to the commitments that I had made. The reasons were twofold. First, there was the moral dilemma I was facing, the personal inner turmoil of knowing something had been done wrong, and my complicity by remaining in my position. Secondly, my mental health had reached a critical point, due to my anxiety and depression, exacerbated by the actions of others. I had no choice but to resign and to leave. To a person who feels a strong sense of loyalty, duty, and dedication, setting those principles by the wayside is extremely difficulty to do at the best of times; when caught in the unyielding grip of anxiety and depression, faced with alienation and isolation from those around you, it’s potentially deadly. I’ve had to forgive those who don’t think they’ve done me wrong. They don’t even know they’ve done others wrong. I can’t change that. I’ve had to forgive myself, for the anger and frustrations I expressed when I was ready to give up hope. I’m trying to forgive myself for my high expectations, of myself and of those around me, for harsh judgement of myself, and for turning my back on something I believed in, right to my very core. I’ve come to terms with the fact that there is nothing wrong with changing your mind. There is nothing wrong with leaving a situation or leaving people when things don’t feel right to you anymore. If you can’t be your authentic self, and you can’t be honest or respected by those with whom you are associated, it’s time to move on. That isn’t to say that moving on is easy. It never is, for anyone. As always, I see things in others easier than I do in myself. It’s a lot harder to acknowledge and recognize my own short comings. I recently heard the phrase, “the standard you walk past is the standard you accept.” I heard this from people who embody and exemplify principles like honour, and doing the right thing. It was at that exact moment that I knew wholeheartedly, I had done the right thing months ago. You owe it to yourself to be honest. It’s expected. There’s always a right thing to do and a wrong thing to do. I couldn’t in good conscience, as a human being, turn my head and look the other way. Doing the right thing often difficult. When I come to those many forks in the road, as we all must do, I may debate and struggle momentary on the cusp of a decision, I will instinctively weigh the cost or the benefits of my actions; inevitably I listen to my gut instinct, and to that mantra in my head, ingrained in my psyche since I was a child; my father’s voice, “there’s always a right thing to do and a wrong thing to do.” Do the right thing.That doesn’t always mean I get it right. Sometimes I get it wrong, but I always try, and I admit and own up to my mistakes. I am not perfect, I have much to learn. I also have much to offer. It took me way to long to realize this, but it’s something I will never allow myself to forget. I have many friends who keep reminding me. I can only live my truth, and spend my time and energy where it is best served, where my strengths are; with writing and fighting for women’s rights and equality for all.

Depression is a Silent Killer

Coming Full Circle

Life is funny sometimes. I find it odd how lessons are delivered to me at times. Sometimes I don’t even realize it’s a lesson until I’ve had time to reflect. That’s life. Nobody has the handbook on how to live life perfectly, although lots of people think they have the formula figured out. The high volume of self-help books and how-to books confirm this. The truth is, nobody has everything figured out. We all stumble around sometimes, unsure of what to do, cruising along on autopilot, just putting the days in. Other times, we’re at a high altitude, reveling in the glory that is life. If we are lucky enough, we will find our calling, our purpose. It took me a long time to find my purpose. The traumas I experienced throughout my life, sidetracked my goals, and made my vision cloudy. It was when my kids moved out and went to university that I finally found the time, and the chance to delve into what would rapidly light my fire. My natural protective instincts led me to champion for women’s rights. At the time, I was already on board with the Liberals, but Brian Gallant’s stance with ammending the 84-20 regulation, was in my opinion, and many others, not enough. This inspired a call to action for me and for my daughter. We found ourselves protesting the Gallant government at the legislature for their failure not to extend public funding to private clinics. The following year, my support for the Liberals was cemented by Justin Trudeau’s declaration of support for women’s rights, among other policies that I was happy at the time to get on board with. The point is, women’s rights were what sparked my fire and drew me to the Liberal party. Somewhere along the line over the last four years, I lost sight of what inspired me in the first place; equality and social justice. Temporary people taught me permanent lessons. The time has come around again for me to invest in my own growth. See you in the ring… 

Jen Smith the Word Smith

When you see the eyes lined with fire, of all the women ready to shove you aside, you will know we are here.”

“cOPYRIGHT” – 2019 – jEN sMITH