BOYS TO MEN - 25 YEARS OF KISSING FROGS

A few weeks ago I was asked to list what I think makes a successful relationship. Since the day I started to like boys I had a vague idea of that answer but it morphed with  every boy or man I dated. Not every relationship I was in had a lasting impact but I can say with certainty that there were a few that changed how I perceived what made the ideal boyfriend.

1985 - 1988

I want a cute boy that likes good music, dresses well, writes poetry and makes me laugh.
As it turns out these boys were in short supply and they usually liked other boys. During this time I dated a jock. What can I say - he made me laugh and he was nice to me and that was good enough. I was 15 years old.

1988 - 1990

I want a good-looking boy who likes music I like, dresses well, is passionate and makes me laugh. Instead I dated a boy who was very good-looking, treated me well for the first 2 months and then treated me like a disease and I was convinced I was in love with him. I'm just glad I was wise enough to know that I deserved better. Next...

1990 - 1993

I want an attractive guy who is funny, smart, likes good music, shares my interests and is good in bed.
During this time I dated someone who was funny and smart. We didn't like the same music, had nothing in common and he really didn't treat me that well but it was better than boy circa 1988 to 1990. We stayed together for 2 years.

1993 - 1996

I want to date an attractive guy who is nice, dependable, respectful of me, makes me laugh and is good in bed.
During this time I met my husband. He was all of these things to me. Yes we weren't a perfect fit and we didn't have a lot in common but after '90 to '93 I knew I was dating someone who would be good to me. I knew that no matter what happened he would be there for me and support me.

1996 - 1998

I want to be in a relationship with someone who is attractive, nice, dependable, respectul, will do his share of the chores, can help pay the bills, who makes me laugh and is good in bed.
Kevin and I moved in together and our relationship began to change. I had lived on my own since 1990 but Kevin had not lived anywhere but at home. It was a big adjustment for both of us but mostly him. He never had to cook or clean or do laundry or pay bills. I had been doing it all for years so I just assumed everyone should know how to do these things. I was impatient with Kevin and demanding and looking back I regret that. Still we made it through and got married in 1998.

1998 - 2001

I need a man who can change diapers, get up in the night, pay the bills, feed the dog look after the house, who is nice, dependable, respectful, who makes me laugh and understands when I just don't want to have sex.
In 1999 we had our first child. I became a working mother and Kevin became the father and provider. I have boiled our roles down to the simplest of terms but in essence this is what happened. We no longer took time as a couple. We committed all of our energy to raising our daughter and trying to save enough money to buy our first home. We were toiling away at our jobs trying to advance.Everything that a young couple is expected to do. It was 3 of us together against the world.

2001 - 2004

I need a man who can help with homework, pay bills, mow the lawn, take out the trash, do the dishes, walk the dog, who is patient and kind, loving, dependable who makes me laugh and is still willing to give me one more child.
Kevin and I are now living in our fist house and continuing to build our careers, Kevin comes out of the factory and works in the office, I am promoted to senior designer. We live in suburbia, have drinks with the neighbours and barbeques in the backyard. We still go out occasionally to the movies or to dinner but mostly we stay at home with Rhea.

2004 - 2008

I need a man who can change more diapers this time, help with homework, pay the bills, mow the lawn, take out the trash, help around the house, walk the dog, who is patient and kind, loving and dependable, who makes me laugh and lets me sleep through the night on occasion.
In 2004 our second child is born and I start to work from home. We spend our time split between our children, our jobs and our home. We go out once every other month for dinner and a movie if we have time and money.

2008 - 2011
I need man who is strong, dependable, understanding, helpful around the house, understands me, loves me, can help with homework, help around the house, reach the top shelf, open tight lids, look after repairs, maintain the vehicles, walk the dog, doesn't mind cooking on occasion, who is funny and makes me laugh.
Exhausted with living in a big city we move to Brantford to raise our kids. Kevin commutes to Burlington and I continue to work from home. We spend most our time working, running the kids to activities, looking after the house, and 3 or 4 times a year we go out for dinner or a movie if we can get a sitter, we have the energy and we can afford it.

When I was younger I really only needed someone I could love and who would love me back. It was quite simple. Unrealistic - yes - but simple. As you get older you realize that it isn't enough just to 'love' someone or be attracted to person and even having similar interests isn't necessarily going to make a relationship work . There will be many challenges to face - both as a couple and as individuals. Your relationship and your needs will constantly change. The real question is whether or not both of you can adapt as a couple. One thing that should never change is that you never stop trying.

If I could go back I would have made my relationship more of a priority. We put our relationship on the back burner while we raised our children, climbed the corporate ladder and built up what we thought were our priorities. Now that life has finally allowed us time to ourselves again we are having to adapt again. We need to rediscover what made our relationship work.

Now I am faced with the question 'what makes a successful relationship' and I am stumped. I can't boil it down to a laundry list of requirements because that list is always changing. What I can say is this.

I need a partner. I need a friend. I need someone who is willing to grow and change and adapt with every dilemma that life has in store for us. Yes we may sometimes fight and butt heads and we won't always get along. As long as both of us are committed to making this work and finding our way back to each other I know we will will make it another decade. To me, that is success. Now if I only knew what my husband wanted.

Don't Tread On Me

When I was in high school I was different. I was not as confident or as kind but I was also much more assertive and I always stood up for myself and others. I didn't take much crap from anyone. Over the years I have mellowed considerably but I am not sure it was in my best interest. Now I have gone so far in the other direction i have become somewhat of a doormat.

There have been some advantages to being a kinder gentler Yvonne. I find socializing much easier. I can get along with most people because they perceive me as positive and upbeat. My social life has become somewhat easier. When I meet people I always give them the best of me. I am positive, I inquire about them, I try to find a common interest. But I don't stop there. I continue any and all conversations in a vein that I perceive as one that will please the other person. In other words I am a chameleon. I become whatever it is that the other person needs in order for him or her to like me. 

For years I thought this is what was required of me in order to 1. obtain friendship and 2. obtain success. Any self aware existentialist will tell you that this is not true in the case of friendship although from a professional standpoint that it is definitely true in terms of business relationships and success. So now I can deduce that...

BECOMING SOMEONE ELSE TO PLEASE OTHERS DOES NOT CREATE OR MAINTAIN A HEALTHY FRIENDSHIP

Seems pretty obvious doesn't it. You shouldn't have to pretend you are someone else to be friends with someone. But sometimes we have to be a 'watered down' version of ourselves in order to keep the peace. EXAMPLE: On the street where i used to live the women all talked about clothes, their kids new toys, what was on sale at the grocery store...you get the picture. I don't really care about any of those topics. I wanted to talk about relative issues. I wanted to talk about what's going on in the world. I wanted to discover enlightenment and become a better person. But these people would have none of it. If I brought up a topic that was not in their repertoire they would immediately interrupt me and change the subject. In the 6 years I lived on that street I soon learned to smile and keep my mouth shut if I was to be accepted as 'one of the girls'.

Soon I found myself miserable. I had become someone I no longer recognized. It was then that I realized it was time to move on. I wanted to come home. Back to Brantford. Back to the city I grew up in where people understood me and I didn't have to pretend anymore. Back to my family and friends.

So now I am back and feeling more myself except for one small detail. I still have not found my voice.

For whatever reason I still cannot say NO. I remember seeing a therapist or some other expert on Oprah. He said 'when you say no to others you say YES to yourself'. It's such a simple concept. When I heard that I thought GENIUS! I should be doing that. But am I? Uh...no. And why you ask. Because I am a people pleaser.

I don't like to say no to people because I don't want to disappoint them. The problem is now I am expected to always say yes. I am not blaming anyone for this. Yes for a while there I felt I was being taken advantage of. I was angry at those who had 'done me ill' but after a few weeks of stewing and festering over it I realized it wasn't other people at fault. It was me. I was the one who let it go on. I was the one who allowed it to happen. I had in fact turned myself in to the preverbal doormat.

I may not be reducing myself so that others will like me but I am still not standing up for my own rights. I still have not found the balance of what is good for me even in the simplest situations. Saying no sometimes is what is good for me but for some reason the need to please others trumps my own needs. There are days when I am just having a bad day and I don't want to see ANYONE. Yet on that same day, if someone asked me to  babysit their children I would say yes because I didn't want to disappoint the parents or the child. I would spend the entire time while babysitting doing crafts, smiling, feeding and entertaining everyone but on the inside I wanted to cry. I would deny my own needs in order to fulfill others needs.

So now I am trying to assert myself and my rights. I am saying no. I am learning to say 'that is not okay'. I am taking back what is mine. I may not be doing it very gracefully right now but this is new territory for me. So if you find me somewhat abrasive and abrupt please don't take it personally. I am trying to find my voice. It may come out as a roar at first but I am working on a strong confident resounding assertiveness. I am looking for the balance between the bull headed teenager I once was and the mature woman I am now. I am hoping that when the two finally do meet they will be able to become one strong, confident person and accept one another as she is.

DON'T WORRY YOU'LL LEARN - EVENTUALLY - I THINK

I feel like I have changed since my surgery. I am calm. I am content. I have more energy. Generally I feel better about myself. I have learned to take my time and take in what’s around me. I am more aware of my actions and behaviors because I am more at peace. I am no longer living in a fog.




Let me explain.



Prior to surgery I never rested. I was always running the kids around or running after them, cleaning the house or cooking. If I wasn’t completely immersed in those two areas of my life I was working. I thought this is what people were supposed to do. Most women I know talk about all the activities their kids are in or how much work they have to do. It seems the only way we can validate our existence is by filling every minute of our lives with menial tasks. Frankly I was no different.



I thought that if I did enough, if I was busy enough and if I never stopped, one day I would be good enough. I never realized until surgery forced me to rest that no matter how much I filled my ‘to do’ list I would never feel good enough. It was for this reason and several others that I have decided to seek counseling.



Two weeks ago I went to see a councilor. Our first session was a ‘get to know you’ type of meeting where she asked me questions like ‘why are you here’, who is in your family’, and ‘what was your family like growing up’.



I explained to her that I was here because I was having trouble at home and in relationships both with others and with myself. I said that I have a wonderful husband and 2 lovely girls. I stated that my father was an alcoholic and after my parents divorce I became a latchkey kid.



After that we began to delve more into what was going on in my life and the changes that have occurred since my surgery. I told her that I was feeling better about myself in general. I wanted to go out and socialize more and do more in the community. I didn’t appear in public often before I lost weight and now I wanted to get my life back. I was finding it difficult because of the burdens I was feeling at home. Most days I felt over-committed and stretched thin. I felt burned out.



“Children of alcoholics tend to do that” is how the councilor responded.



At the time I thought that’s interesting and then we moved on to other issues. It wasn’t until after the session I really let that statement sink in.



Did my father’s alcoholism really affect me that profoundly? Is it possible that it is still doing it to this day? I decided to look up Adult Children of Alcoholics on the internet. I was curious what that meant.



The first thing ACOAs do is ‘guess’ at what normal is. It seems like a simple statement but for me it was a revelation.



I had been guessing at normal my entire life. I didn’t know what a normal marital relationship was. I didn’t know what a normal childhood was. I didn’t know what a normal home life was. I imagined. I saw other people’s home life and assumed that was normal and of course I saw images in movies and on television and dreamed that was normal. I still don’t know what normal is. The good news is that I also learned there is no such thing as normal – only functional and dysfunctional. The bad news is I am now stuck with the question “what is functional”?



Another important tidbit I discovered is that ACOAs are perfectionists BUT it is all or nothing. We are conditioned to believe that if we are perfect then our alcoholic parent won’t need to drink and will love us and approve of us. This behavior continues into adulthood. We think that if we are perfect then we are lovable.



This was like the ultimate aha moment. I finally began to understand why I was always ‘overachieving’. I was never happy with anything I did. Nothing was ever good enough and I never stopped to appreciate even the biggest accomplishment because I always felt I could do better. No wonder I was exhausted and unhappy. No wonder I suffered from depression. In constantly striving for perfection I was inevitably setting myself up for failure.



According to the books I have since picked up on the subject of Adult Children of Alcoholics; it is growing up in the alcoholic household that has the most profound effect on ACOAs. The addition of physical and sexual abuse made life much more difficult but it’s the conditioning I received because of the alcoholism that has had the most profound and lasting effects to my functionality at a fundamental level.





So yes I am again on a journey of self discovery. Frankly I don’t think I will ever stop. I am now realizing that my relationship with my husband is in fact ‘normal’ because it is functional. I am learning to appreciate what I have accomplished in my life without criticism. I am learning to stop that inner critic that tells me I am not doing enough or making enough money. I still have a lot of work to do but I am learning to take it slow.

THE GREAT DEPRESSION

I have been through a sea of change this year. Physically, emotionally, financially I have been tested and transformed.

The start of most of this change was my fiscal decline into bankruptcy. Yes I have joined the ranks of the unwashed masses who can no longer afford to repay the debt they have managed to amass. It would be easy to blame the failing economy and the bankruptcy of my principal client. I would love to say it’s all the government’s fault but in reality I had a hand in it too. I got caught up the purchasing fever we as a society all seem to suffer. I became consumer driven. I was so concerned about image and keeping up with the Jones’ I let it overcome who I am. I have never been focused on money. I don’t care what car people drive, the home they live in or the clothes they wear but for some reason I was measuring myself by those very parameters.

I know I am not alone in my delusion. Sure, some of you can say ‘well, that’s not me’ but be honest with yourself. Do you measure your self worth by a dollar value or is it measured in a way that is not tangible? How do you measure worth? How do any of us measure it?



I can pretend that I am all Zen and one with the cosmic universe and preach that value comes from within…but I cannot seem to convince the rest of me that this is true. Perhaps this is because I grew up in the 80s and material wealth was ALL that mattered. Perhaps it’s that we are constantly bombarded with imagery that defines value in terms of what we own and wear or how many vacations we go in a year or whether or not our vehicles are reducing our carbon footprint (don’t even get me started on the marketing of the environment). Maybe it’s the fact that as a society we idolize celebrities and sports stars and their lavish lifestyles. Ultimately I may be influenced by society but know I am the one who is left to decide how I let it affect me.



Which brings me to how this all makes me FEEL… well to put it bluntly it makes me feel pretty worthless.



Since last year my business has been reduced to a part time endeavor at best. Because of my business failing (yes FAIL – that’s how I see it) we can no longer afford vacations. We are always in the red. We drive crappy cars. We never eat out. I shop at Value Village and occasionally Winners when I can afford it. We need to do repairs on the house but the money is never there. I am back to losing sleep over finances. Sure I look after the kids and we don’t have to pay daycare. Plus I work from home so there’s no commuting cost. The best part is most of what we spend is a write-off so I don’t pay much in taxes. But even with all of these lovely perks it’s still not enough.



Now for the flip side to this melodramatic dark coin…drum roll please…I have lost 80 pounds!!!



Last July I asked to be referred to a surgeon for gastric bypass. After many tests and evaluations I was given the go ahead and was fortunate enough to have RNY on Wednesday February 23, 2011. In just 5 short months I have lost 80 pounds.



I know everyone is probably thinking ‘wow life must be perfect for you now’. Even I was gullible enough to believe this would happen once I lost the weight. I was sadly mistaken. Yes life has been markedly improved since the weight loss. My energy has improved. My knees don’t hurt anymore. I have gone down 10 sizes. I am smaller than I have been in 10 years. This is not to say it did not come with its own consequences. My hormones are ALL OVER THE PLACE. Just ask my husband. It’s like living with someone with an undiagnosed mental condition that is not medicated. That paired with low B-12 levels robbing me of my energy and drive makes me a miserable, lazy, emotional quasi-smaller emotional fuck-whit. Not a pretty picture for me, my husband or my kids.



So now between being broke and not having the energy or drive to do anything about it I am finding myself getting depressed again and again facing the same dark cloud I have faced time and time again. I always seem to think I have this thing licked. When things are good I think ‘I’ll never get sad again’ but sooner or later it happens and I have to battle my way out.



So this is why I am writing again. Like most creative freaks I cannot seem to write unless things are kind of shitty. I am at my most creative when I am in my darkest place. I guess the good news is that this past year has been a good one. Even though for the last 2 months I have battled daily to drag myself out of bed, convincing myself that taking a dose of morphine and going back to sleep for a few more hours is probably a bad idea.



Now before you go calling the men in the white coats try to remember that throughout my twisted life I have learned to identify when I am spiraling – and believe me I am spiraling. That is why I have spoken to my doctor and asked to see a councilor before it gets any worse. I may be a basket case (insert crazed laugh here) but I am not an idiot. I am also not self-destructive so don’t worry about coming to my house and dumping my morphine down the sink. Besides if you do I MAY go postal – smile!



So there you have it folks. I look happy. I feel physically good but I am an emotional wreck. ‘nough said. Regardless I know things will get better. They always do. It’s just a bit harder this time because of the hormonal issues and the B12. This time the battle has become more than emotional it has become physical as well. But don’t you worry. It’s nothing a bottle of tequila and a shotgun won’t fix…kidding. Settle down:)

DIARY OF A WIMPY MIDDLE-AGE SUBURBAN HOUSEWIFE

I've been considering this blog for quite some time now. You see my girls have both had their experiences with bullies over the past year. I have had friends whose children have had the same problem.

When I first heard my youngest daughter was being bullied on the bus I wanted to smack the kid that was doing it. I know this is wrong and I have since changed my perspective but my first instinct is to physically protect my child. You see the boy that was bullying my then 4 year old child was 9 years old. He made a rhyme saying he was going to 'put a gun to her head, pull the trigger and  she's dead'.

The most perplexing aspect of this case of bullying is that the boy is our neighbour. Prior to this we had had him over to swim and roast marshmallows. I invited him into our home and he managed to charm us all. Then, when I heard what he said to my youngest child I was devastated. I felt betrayed but most of all I was frightened by the level of cunning displayed by a boy so young. I couldn't help but think about incidents like Columbine. No one suspected those boys were capable of committing such atrocities. This may seem far fetched for me to be considering now but imagine if the someone had thought the same thing before those boys shot all of those poor innocent children. It may have been prevented.

It's this sort of thing that stokes the fire in my belly and causes me to seethe with anger. I want the kid to be punished. Someone needs to pay. My children should not have to tolerate this abuse and I sure as hell am not going to allow this to happen...BUT it's not always that simple.

In the case of my 5 year old - now that I have had time to digest it and get to know the boy I can honestly say I don't think he understood the gravity of what he was saying. Plus I think he was being pressured by other boys on the bus. My daughter wanted to sit with the boy and paid him a lot of attention. As a result some of the other boys started making fun of him. To protect his own ego he started making fun of my daughter. Although he should not have done that regardless there was a reason for what he was saying. I am trying to understand his position more but still - if he was my son there would be some serious consequences for what he did. As it is, he did not recieve any punishment besides a talking to and a call home.

Now this year my eldest daughter was being made fun of and once again we knew the person. Because they are friends of ours I won't go into details but suffice it to say, once again, I was furious. I wanted to step in and protect my child. Especially when my daughter is BEGGING me to step in. She is also having nightmares. So I do the only thing I can do - I talk to the teacher and the child's mother.

At this time I believe the situation with my eldest daughter has been resolved but I still worry. I don't want her to feel centred out by others. I don't want other kids to laugh at her. Especially when frankly I don't see anything to laugh at. My daughter is beautiful and brilliant and kind. The only reason for the bullying that I can think of is jealousy. Often when people are trying to make others feel bad it is in a twisted attempt to make them feel better about themselves. It's also deflecting and it happens quite a bit with children (and adults that never truly grow up).

The hardest pill to swallow is the advice that I am forced to give my children. I tell them to ignore it. To turn the other cheek and be the bigger person but how can I ask them to do something I could not do myself. You see I myself was bullied when I was a child. Boys from my school would follow me home and call me fat. I retaliated by saying something to this day I feel terrible about. I also had to pretend I was okay when I got home so my father wouldn't go off the deep end and go run the boys down with our car. I suppose that is why I am telling my children to do just the opposite of what I did. I don't want them to regret hurting someone else's feelings. I also don't want them to think that bullying back will solve anything. I know I am telling them the right thing to do but when I remember how hard it was to be a kid being bullied I wonder if I am giving them the right advice. How can you explain to a playground full of 10 year old boys and girls that YOU are taking the moral high ground and that in 10 years everyone will realize that you are doing the right thing. PLEASE! In 10 years there is a good chance most of those kids will STILL be bullies they'll just be bigger, older and better at it.

So here I am - a wimpy middle-aged suburban  housewife doling out advice to my kids like fortune cookies but not able to really help them. I feel let down by the system and societies rules and niceties. We are not permitted to defend our children. We aren't even supposed to tell them to defend themselves. The problem with this theory is that there are more bullies out there and we are continuing to teach our children to be victims. Be brave. Stiff upper lip. Turn the other cheek. What we are really telling them is " Just try to take as much as you can without letting it destroy your self image or ruin your childhood until the adult world can get their heads out of their asses and deal with these bullies, and their parents, because the parents are the REAL problem'.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

This Cake is from Cake Opera Co. in Toronto.
Check them out at cakeoperaco.com

Today I am 39 years old. 39. Say it. Let it wash over you. Let it sink into your subconscious and bounce around for a while. Is age just a number? Is it a mark of us getting that much older?

No.

It's a reason to celebrate another year of successes and failures. It's a day to remember the joy in life as well as the pain. A birthday is like New Year's eve. Say thanks to the universe and celebrate your blessings and wash away the negative to emerge anew and take another path.

Today I think about the people in my life. I think how lucky I am to have them and to know that, through thick and thin, I can count on their support. I think about my family and how blessed I am to have them in my life. To feel their love everyday. I am blessed with 2 wonderful children and a truly caring and understanding husband. I am blessed with supportive friends who want nothing but the best for me.

So today is not about the wrinkles and sags and whatever 'perceived' signs aging provides. I am reminded of the years spent having joy in my life. The fact that in spite of all the obstacles and difficulties I have faced over the year, I am here, still smiling. And if next year when 40 approaches I can say the same thing - I will welcome that birthday with open arms.

Thank you everyone for a wonderful year!

YOU'RE GOOD ENOUGH, YOU'RE SMART ENOUGH, AND GOSH DARN IT, PEOPLE LIKE YOU

I started reading a new book last night. "Women, Food and God". I had a good friend recommend it to me. When I went to find it and discovered that it was $28 to purchase it at Coles..well that put me off  of it for a while. Not to mention the use of the word God in the title. That will scare most of us 'spiritual' types away everytime. I imagined it was going to be yet another journey to find the one true higher power. A concept I whole heartedly do not believe in.

So a few days ago I found my self at the wal (AKA Wal-Mart) where my eldest daughter was on a search for the next Vampire Diaries novel. And there the book was again. Staring me in the face saying "well I am 30% off here. Are you going to read me or not?" I decided to take my meager allowance and splurge on my first hardcover book since the Twilight series. As a reward for my troubles I found at the cash register the book was actually half price. Bravo you bargain diva!

So I took the book home and placed it on my nightstand to read before I went to bed. For the entire evening I thought "I need to get up there and start reading so I can start healing myself and get on with my life." So by 9pm I was in my jammies and snuggled up with my new book and within a few pages I realized that it was not what  I had been expecting.

Right away the author explains that this book is about our 'divine' relationship with food. She uses the term God because it is one that is universally recognized as a 'higher power' but not THE higher power. Phew. What a relief. I can read on. She also goes on to discuss food and diet and our need to 'fix' ourselves through whatever means but usually  along the route of weight loss. She also talks about always rushing to get to the next thing. I am doing it right now. I am rushing my description of the book so I can get to the next paragraph. Even as I make a lasagna I am rushing the cooking of the meat so I can move on the the layering and then the cooking and then, of course the eating. Rush. Rush. Rush.

It's in that chapter that I realize part of my problem. I have never lived in the moment. I have never stopped to enjoy the hear and now. I am always working my way to the next goal. I can remember rushing projects in school because I became anxious about missing the deadline. I remember feeling resentful towards people who handed everyting in late but stil got better grades. Lets face it. It's because they took their time. I was so consumed by the deadline I didn't put the time into the project and given it 100% of myself.

As I child I was always worried about being late. I was like the white rabbit running around checking my watch constantly but never seeming to arrive anywhere. Off to school! Don't be late! You have an appointment don't be late! Let's do lunch! Don't be late! The problem with obsessing with my potential tardiness has led me to being excessively early to everything. I am always early for appointments, meetings, dinner. Once I have arrived at my desitnation I spend those extra 10 or 15 minutes contemplated whether the person I am meeting will be late too. It seems no one is safe from my obsessing.

So here I am peering at this book wondering "Is it really that simple?" Do I just LET GO and be free and stop obsessing? Do I just learn to love myself and everything will be fine? Probably not but I will say one thing. It is one hell of a place to start.

Imagine if everyday you looked in the mirror and instead of seeing all that you perceive to be wrong with you physically and instead you saw all of the beauty your love ones and friends see.

 I remember one day in science class my teacher brought in one those mirrors that lets you see yourself as other see you. Normal mirrors reverse what is actually there whereas this mirror reversed it again so that you could see your actual likeness. I could not believe how different I looked through that mirror. Most of our perceptions of ourselves are equally as distorted. We judge what we see. We concentrate on what we perceive as broken. Imagine seeing past the celulite and the saddle bags and the beginnings of crows feet. Imagine having the ability to peer deep insider yourself and recognize and appreciate the person you are without all of that emotional baggage that has manifested from an unhealthy body image. Imagine how free and liberated you would be if you could see that you don't need to fix you because you are not broken.

I spoke to a good friend today about another one of my obsessive behaviours. You see I have never considered myself to be a particlularly nice person. I am always concerned that I haven't been as tolerant or as forgiving as I should be. Once again I have found something else to fix. But I have come to realize that I will never be a saint but I am certainly no devil either. I am realizing that I can be kind but not allow myself to be taken advantage of either. I can assert myself in other ways.

All this enlightenment. All this realization and I am only 100 pages in! Normally I would try to anticipate 'What's next! What's next!'. Instead I am going to work on what it in front of me now. I have made some intense realizations about myself. Whether or not they all stem back to my relationship with food remains to be seen but I have an inkling they will. But that is not for me to speculate about now. Now I am going enjoy the quiet of my home. I am going to enjoy the smell of the beef as it simmers on the stove. I am going to listen to the bird that is singing in outside my window. And somewhere, deep inside myself, I will try to find the serenity to not kill the fly that continues to buzz around my head and drive me crazy! Hey, even Gandhi would be rolling up the newspaper right now...or would he...either way he can decide for himself and so can I.