Tell me something frivolous

I don’t want to know that you think I’m capable.

I don’t want to know that you think I’m smart.

I don’t want to know that you appreciate me.

I project an image of being capable and that I have everything under control.

I don’t.

Tell me that I’m beautiful.

Tell me that I’m sexy.

Tell me that you like the way I move.

Tell me that everything will be ok.

Polly Nor

Today I came across illustrations by Polly Nor.  And they are absolutely brilliant!  I continue to be awed and inspired by talented women such as Polly.

She draws women and their demons.  She captures what I am feeling when I talk about my demons.

Check her out at

Polly Norpolly nor2

Yell loudly

I haven’t written in a while… to state the obvious.

Writing means that I am putting a voice to what is going on in my head and sometimes I just can’t bring myself to do that.

I read so many brilliant blogs and I wish I could express myself as well as some of those writers.  Some of the poetry is brilliant and touches my soul.  I did not start this blog with the intention of becoming famous but only to share my life experiences in the hope that they will help myself and maybe let others know that they are not alone.  Perhaps, then, my writing style is not so important.

I can voice my feelings, my struggles, but I continue to be at a loss of how to fix them.  Will I live the rest of my life struggling with the demons in my head?  I try to tell myself to remember that it is not always like this…

Being alone is not good.  I need someone to yell at me. Yell louder than the demons.

You are worthy

You are beautiful

You are smart

You are a good mother

Your friends love you

This will not last


Brains vs. brawn

An amazing feminist poem for today.


by Neil Gaiman

Science, as you know, my little one, is the study
of the nature and behaviour of the universe.
It’s based on observation, on experiment, and measurement,
and the formulation of laws to describe the facts revealed.

In the old times, they say, the men came already fitted with brains
designed to follow flesh-beasts at a run,
to hurdle blindly into the unknown,
and then to find their way back home when lost
with a slain antelope to carry between them.
Or, on bad hunting days, nothing.

The women, who did not need to run down prey,
had brains that spotted landmarks and made paths between them
left at the thorn bush and across the scree
and look down in the bole of the half-fallen tree,
because sometimes there are mushrooms.

Before the flint club, or flint butcher’s tools,
The first tool of all was a sling for the baby
to keep our hands free
and something to put the berries and the mushrooms in,
the roots and the good leaves, the seeds and the crawlers.
Then a flint pestle to smash, to crush, to grind or break.

And sometimes men chased the beasts
into the deep woods,
and never came back.

Some mushrooms will kill you,
while some will show you gods
and some will feed the hunger in our bellies. Identify.
Others will kill us if we eat them raw,
and kill us again if we cook them once,
but if we boil them up in spring water, and pour the water away,
and then boil them once more, and pour the water away,
only then can we eat them safely. Observe.

Observe childbirth, measure the swell of bellies and the shape of breasts,
and through experience discover how to bring babies safely into the world.

Observe everything.

And the mushroom hunters walk the ways they walk
and watch the world, and see what they observe.
And some of them would thrive and lick their lips,
While others clutched their stomachs and expired.
So laws are made and handed down on what is safe. Formulate.

The tools we make to build our lives:
our clothes, our food, our path home…
all these things we base on observation,
on experiment, on measurement, on truth.

And science, you remember, is the study
of the nature and behaviour of the universe,
based on observation, experiment, and measurement,
and the formulation of laws to describe these facts.

The race continues. An early scientist
drew beasts upon the walls of caves
to show her children, now all fat on mushrooms
and on berries, what would be safe to hunt.

The men go running on after beasts.

The scientists walk more slowly, over to the brow of the hill
and down to the water’s edge and past the place where the red clay runs.
They are carrying their babies in the slings they made,
freeing their hands to pick the mushrooms.

Two introverts walk into a bar

… actually they don’t walk into the bar, because the bar is filled with people.  Unless of course the bar is empty – in which case, that would be ok.

I’m dating.

And it’s fun.  (stick with me, I’ll come back to the introvert thing)

Initially, I thought I should wait to date someone.  After all, I left my husband less than a year ago.  Actually, our relationship was over years before that and I really want to have someone to spend my life with.  I’m 52… waiting doesn’t seem like such a good option.

I actually found someone really nice through  This is not an advertisement for Match.  I  have heard some horror stories about online dating.  Friends who have come across some really weird people.  And others who thought they connected with someone only to never hear from them again.

I was dreading going on a date.  Because obviously I would need to make small talk.  The introvert in me does NOT like doing this.

The great thing about Match was that I was able to clearly state what I was looking for in a partner.  Someone active, who loves to camp and be outside, will not think I’m weird when I hug a tree… I was also able to discover men in my area with similar interests and eliminate those that were not very active.

I was able to pick and choose who I communicated with.  Yes, I came across a few unusual men, but I was seemingly lucky (fortunate? wise?) to find someone who shares my love of the outdoors, has no plans to stop being active and even posted a picture of himself camping in the winter. Awesome!  After a few dates, I also discovered he is an introvert!  Like me!  He understands my dislike of groups.  Unlike my ex he does not force me into situations outside my comfort zone.

Was I consciously looking for someone very unlike my ex?  Maybe.  I know I was consciously looking for someone who looked nothing like him.  But when considering a personality type, I almost expected to find someone outgoing.  Someone who would again bring me out of my shell.  It seems I was wrong to seek out extroverts.  Dating an introvert allows me to be a more equal partner in this relationship.  It’s not all about my partner.  It’s about me.  In the past, focusing on my partner allowed me to stay in the background.  Now, I can shine.  I can do things I want to do, in the way I want to do them.

I am taking a deep breath of release and satisfaction.

My partner and I can do the things we like without talking to random people in elevators.  We can go whole minutes without talking on a hike or while making dinner.

My demons still linger in the background.  ‘Why would he want to be with you’, they yell.  I yell back, ‘because I am worthy!!’.


Girls Rule

This past weekend I was privileged enough to take part in a joint Scout/Girl Guide camp.  The girls in my daughter’s unit took first AND second place!  Beating out 24 other groups.

The camp was a Competition Camp.  Groups of Scouts (11-14) and Pathfinders (12-14) participated in a series of challenges such as tug of war, camp set up, scavenger hunt, fire building and my favourite, preparing a dinner for the leaders.  The camp is run entirely by Venturer Scouts.  The leaders camp in another field and are  only there  in case of an emergency.

I was told some scary things about the dinners.  Imagine, these kids had to come up with something they could cook, do the shopping, cook the dinner on a camp stove and serve it politely to the leaders.  The groups also had to bake something. Either using a camp oven or a box oven.  Often the food was under cooked or burned.  Food choices could include Kraft Dinner or pancakes.  My dinner, served by a scout troop, was burgers, devilled eggs, salad and yogurt parfait for dessert.  Their baked muffins did not turn out.  It actually wasn’t bad.

All participants including the leaders slept in tents for the weekend.  Yep, it was cold.  It went down to -1C overnight.  I burrowed into my down sleeping bag, covered my a wool blanket and wearing my down vest.  Camping in April in Ontario is a bit of a crap shoot.  Thankfully, the days were sunny and relatively warm.  It did not rain.

The weekend made me feel great.  So good to be outside in the trees.  I was so impressed by the attitude of the scouts and pathfinders.  They were so enthusiastic.  It was infectious.

It felt good to be anxiety free all weekend.

To forgive or not to forgive that is the question

I always thought that in order to move on with your life after someone did something terrible, you needed to forgive them.

I now realize that forgiving that person is not really necessary. Rather, I simply need to make peace with that person’s actions and move on. Ultimately it is all about me. After all it is my life.

So, it’s not necessary to forgive my ex for having a multi year affair or multiple affairs. I’ve reached the point where I really don’t care. I’ve moved on. I can move forward in my life without forgiving him for what he’s done. I was and am not responsible for his actions. He made the choice to seek solace outside our marriage. His choice.

I mourned the loss of my house, my security and the future we planned together.  I have the support of my amazing friends and someone who is teaching me how to love and be loved again.

I am over it and I can live the rest of my life without forgiving him.