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Raise them up.

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It’s 5:30 am. The alarm clock goes off. She rolls over and blindly swats at it. Rolling out of bed, she reaches for her housecoat. She stumbles over a wooden block on the way to the bathroom where she pees and rinses the night out of her mouth. As she reaches up to brush her hair back from her face, she catches sight of herself in the mirror. She reaches up and traces her finger against the lines starting to fan out from her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. Even though she resents them showing up earlier than expected, she knows that they chronicle the events of her life. Her laughter, her tears, her griefs and her many joys. She notices her body is not the tight, firm body of her youth. In it’s place is a body that has sheltered life in its womb. The proof is there in the softness of her belly and in the slight sag of her breasts. Just as she’s about to hang her head in despair and self loathing, she hears at the door a tiny giggle and a soft voice. Light illuminates her face as she breaks into a smile. She throws open the door and walks out to great her day. She is a mother.

I have always wondered why we, as women and as mothers, feel the need to judge each other. We all come with different stories to tell. We all come with different sets of beliefs and values.We are all different. Yet we are working towards the same goal. To raise our children up to be strong yet gentle in this world that is rocked by violence everyday. I’m so tired of the fighting in this world. Most of all I’m tired of the fighting that takes place  among mothers. We are so quick to judge someone because her house isn’t clean or she feeds her kids hotdogs. Who the hell cares? It’s so petty in the face of everything else we have to worry about. At the end of the day all that matters is that the children are happy and healthy. If we want to raise our children to be compassionate and loving it needs to start with us. We all have bad days. We all break down. We need to leave the judgement and ridicule where it belongs. In the trash. Lets raise each other up. Lets encourage each other. Let us speak so highly of each other that at night, when the little voice inside starts to whisper discouragement and doubt, we know better than to believe it.

My aim here is to motivate and to uplift. I know it’s not going to be easy and I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes I have a hard time forming my thoughts into words but it’s a start.  A push in the right direction. For me, that’s enough.

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Unpredictable 

  • My son will be two years old tomorrow. His conception is not a pretty story. It is not one of love and longing, of two people yearning for a joining of their souls in the tiny whisper of a new born. I had been out drinking, went home with a friend I had known for quite some time. We agreed nothing would happen between us and went to bed. I fell asleep on my stomach and was awakened in the night by him moving on top of me, taking what was not his to take. I didn’t say anything. I felt like it was my fault. Maybe I gave him the idea that it was ok because I went back to his house with him. I knew what people would say. The next morning I walked home feeling dirty and sick to my stomach. I put it from my mind the best that I could  and went about my life. About two months later, I started to feel a little off. My breasts were sore and I was nauseas more often than not. I had been working out and I remember praying, please let it be from working out, please. I went to Shoppers drug mart and bought a pregnancy test. Went right to the public washroom and peed on that stick. When I saw those two solid  lines appear, my heart sank. I told my mom that the father was someone I had a fling with and that I was thinking about an abortion. I didn’t want her to know about the shame and guilt that I had carried with me for the last two months. I was also worried about what people would think. Pregnant with no boyfriend in sight. I made an appointment at a clinic downtown to see if I was in fact pregnant. My mom came with me for support. When the clinic worker confirmed the pregnancy, my mom started to cry. I just sat there, taking it all in. She took me to the next room and got me ready for an ultrasound so we could see how far along I was. She slathered my belly with that cold gel and put the little monitor on my stomach. I was eight weeks along. She pointed to a spot on the screen that was kind of pulsing and she told me that was the little heartbeat  (the first time I actually heard his heartbeat, I cried). I saw that little heart going and I fell in love. The fear of what people would think gave way to the overwhelming rush of love along with the maternal instinct to protect the little life growing inside me. From an act of degradation and violation came this little boy who is the smartest, funniest, cutest little human I know. Every day he reminds me that life is unpredictable and just when it seems like it’ll be dusk forever, along comes hope and leads you out into the dawn. 
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Still here 

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I’m really having a hard time finding my niche. I think too hard about it which is my problem. I know I want to inspire people or at least be an ear or a shoulder to lean on but I’m never sure how to start or where to start. I also don’t want people to think that I’m being self righteous or that I think that I know everything. I assure you that is not the case. I’m here to learn as well. Anyways I just wanted to let everyone know that I am still here. I’ll write something wonderful shortly. Much love xo

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Renewal

As I sat outside today watching my grandfather and my son plant tomatoes, all I could think about was renewal. Every spring my grandfather tills the garden, adds manure, mixes it all together and plants seeds. Every summer he watches the seeds sprout and grow into juicy, delicious red orbs. Then every fall without fail the weather wrecks havoc on that tiny piece of earth. The plants freeze and start to droop. Then the snow comes and makes it so it is like it never existed in the first place.

I feel like I am that little piece of earth. As I get ready to say goodbye to my family and friends and start the journey to Quebec, I feel how that little patch of earth must feel after a long winter. Shaking off the bitter cold of the past. Feeling that glorious sun on my skin once again as little seeds of hope and joy start to sprout and awaken to all the endless possibilities in front of me. Am I afraid ? Of course I am. I’ve never been so far from my family before and I’m moving to a place that speaks a language I don’t understand. Am I going to let that stop me ? Absolutely not. I go on in spite of my fear and ignorance. I forge ahead because to stay stagnant is not an option to me. Here is to the start of a new adventure in this crazy, wonderful life.

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For the fading ones

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This is for the girls. The ones who struggle. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones with shattered hearts and broken spirits. This is for the girls who wake up every morning and feel like they are slowly sinking into an abyss of obscurity. I have also been in that place. You feel like you are stuck, sinking. There is so much darkness that you can not see your way out. I don’t know what you’re struggling with. It could be your weight. It could be the end of a relationship. It could very well be just life itself. Maybe you’re getting picked on at school. I know people can be cruel. I know that words hurt you more than anything else ever could. They stay with you and you replay them over and over again in your head late at night when everyone else is sleeping. I wish I could take your pain. I wish you could just lay your head on my shoulder and feel the peace that I feel. I hope you know that you are more than those painful words flung at you. You are more than that guy who broke your heart and could not see the blazing glory that is you. You are more than the parts of your body that you don’t love. You are a woman. Beautiful, strong, broken. Made up of all your past experiences, heartaches, tribulations. I hope you know how worthy you are of love and redemption. I hope the darkness fades day by day and the light starts to seep into your soul. Have compassion for yourself. There is beauty in carrying on the best that you can. Just one more day. Eventually those days will add up and you’ll look back and realize that you have made it so far. You’ll smile to yourself and know that you are oh so strong and glorious.

I know that sometimes words are just words and they are easier said then done. You might shake your head and say she doesn’t understand. Maybe I don’t. I still hope that my words resonate through your soul and with a gentle touch, clear away some of that darkness and plant a seed of hope.  They say joy comes in the morning. I think joy can come in the dark. When you least expect it. In a way you never imagined.

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What’s your mountain ?

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The proverbial mountain. We all have one. I grew up with an alcoholic father. He would drink every weekend and if he could afford it, during the week. He was not a nice drunk. He most definitely was not nice hungover. I remember waking up on Sunday mornings and I would dread getting out of bed in the morning. I knew the storm would come and with it the rain of resentment and fear. My mother got the brunt of his anger and rage. I felt it though. Every name he called her, every slap and shove he gave her, he gave to me. I would shrink into myself and think that maybe if I got small enough I could just disappear and pretend I lived in a world that was sunshine and laughter instead of darkness and fear. For every good memory I have, there’s five bad ones right behind it. I lived my whole childhood with a giant sized knot in my belly called trepidation. That one day he would go too far and take my mom away from me or that he would just get really drunk and kill us all. As I got older a few incidents happened that made him stop drinking but he would always start again eventually. Just a few days here and there. Eventually winding up to a climactic incident after which he would stop again. Just a vicious cycle really that sucked in everyone within a 2 mile radius. He started again yesterday. I’m moving in a few weeks and I won’t be around to protect my mom if things get crazy. That worry, that fear, that’s the mountain that I carry on my back everyday. I chip away at it here and there but I don’t think that it’ll ever go away completely. I’m a joyful person and I’m thankful for each and every experience that has shaped me into the woman that I am today but we all have our worries and we all have our burdens that we carry. We rest up. We rise up. We conquer a little bit everyday. What’s your mountain ?