Peer Pressure

Peer pressure is something that I don’t understand. Never understood it. Why do I care how you feel about me or what I’m doing  or not doing?

I’ve never had a drink of alcohol. I’ve never done any sort of drugs or smoked a cigarette. It’s not for religious reasons nor was I forbidden from doing so when I was young. I just chose many years ago not to do those things. If I do something stupid, I’ll own up to it. If I had to choose a phrase that sends me up to level 9 in anger, it would be, “It’s not my fault. I was drunk/high.”

I’m nearing the end of a 30-day smoothie challenge. It’s just a way to add veggies and a healthy moment in your day. We’ve all learned great daily recipes, nutritional facts and give each other tips.

I’ve been getting very frustrated with updates as of late because some of the participants are getting discouraged. What is the underlying reason that they are all losing faith in themselves? Peer pressure.

“People look at me funny when I drink so much water.”

“My friends are making fun of me and think the smoothies look gross.”

Is this normal? Does this kind of childish nonsense actually happen outside of elementary school?

With the understanding that I’m coming at this with my own prejudices of  ‘grow up and live your own life’, I just don’t get it. I wish there was something I could say that magically makes these people feel stronger within themselves.

I have 36 years of experience of not caring. I went through high school not having a single person mess with me about not drinking alcohol. It’s because they all knew I wouldn’t break, nor would I stand for that behaviour. I have had a LOT more practice at it then these nice people.

I hope you realize that, if you quit because of THEM, you’re actually quitting because of YOU. You were unable to withstand the horror of words. Words that are uttered by children on a playground.  Suck it up.  We’ll be sad and disappointed in you if you don’t. Well, I will be.

Hoping I was going to say something nice? Well, I’m not that nice. But I am honest.

I also want these people to be able to tell those “friends” to piss off 🙂

Again, I’m not that nice.

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Money does, in fact, buy happiness

Money can’t buy happiness. We’ve all heard that saying. The point behind it is for you to picture a millionaire sitting in his mansion, surrounded by opulence and treasures. But he is alone. There is no love for him even though he has everything in the world. How could he possibly be happy without someone to love?

I call bullshit. If this was true then all the homeless would be skipping around and whistling a happy tune.

I don’t have any money. I make just enough to pay my bills and MAYBE have $30 if I was able to find meat at the grocery store for 50 percent off. Do you know how that makes me feel?

Unhappy. Trapped. Scared.

If I had an income of only a few hundred extra dollars, I could take classes. I wouldn’t have to worry about vet emergencies, which bring on THAT decision. I could travel. I could pursue interests that have been shelved for years because they aren’t as important as keeping our heads above water.

I would like very much to be able to buy items from family owned stores instead of the discount places. The irony is that I have to buy from the discount store, because I must save that $10.

I could also, finally, give back to those who have helped me. I have this dream of being able to drop off a cheque every month to the food bank. I want to bring bags of food to the animal shelter and thick blankets and toys.

That would make me really happy.

Money does, in fact, buy happiness.

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Earning my tattoo

Last week, I got through one of, if not the biggest obstacle course, Tough Mudder. It wasn’t simply a fun day out for me. This was the culmination of 6 months of physical training, not to mention the psychological strength it took to get up at 3:15am to train.  I added a 10K run twice a month and began researching nutrition to educate myself.

I was obviously very proud for completing and I knew what my personal reward was going to be. The tattoo.

I never understood what the allure was with tattooing. The whole, “My body is a canvas” thing just didn’t make sense to me. One aspect I could grasp was the idea of imprinting something that was important to you for all to see. Kind of like, ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve’ I suppose J

This tattoo was the first I wanted. But why? Why did I want it in the first place? My headband and running number would usually be more than enough. Having thought about it, I’m pretty sure it has to do with when we moved to Toronto back in 2010.

Our time here has not been wholly pleasant. We were greeted with rudeness, ignorance, an apartment that was half the size we were promised, and job qualifications that, as it turns out, didn’t transfer to Ontario. The economic problems seem even harsher in Toronto because it’s so “dog eat dog”. Anyways, the situation we were dealing with didn’t lend itself to a lot of happy feelings around our place for quite a while.

This past Christmas, Danny saw an opportunity to give me a boost and got me a whole year to go back to Soldiers of Fitness! Not just good for me fitness wise. He knew that the people made me happy and that turns into an all around happiness thing.

With a goal to work towards, I stopped having so much time to think ugly thoughts. I got focused, my thoughts became clearer, and I started feeling strong again.

The point of my story is this: my new tattoo is a reminder of my accomplishment and to keep moving forward because I earned my happiness with blood, sweat, and tears. Literally.Image

That’s my right hip, in case you were wondering  🙂

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48 hours away from a goal

On Saturday morning, I will be participating in Tough Mudder. My team is based around people that I can actually say I care about. I don’t say that often. Because people suck.

I get up at 3:15am three times a week so I can go to my bootcamp Soldiers of Fitness, at 5:30am. The physical results are obviously the intended purpose, but what makes it easier to get up, are my SOF brothers and sisters. It takes a specific type of person to do SOF. You have to have the inner strength to continue moving even though it seems like what’s being asked of you is too much. We work through a BRUTAL regime but there’s so much laughing, support and screamed encouragement that you get addicted.

Tough Mudder will be my first ever obstacle “race”. It isn’t timed and is a perfect SOF style course because it’s based on teamwork. Most of the obstacles are nearly impossible to complete without help, hence the team atmosphere.

I found out about TM back in February and I lost my mind. At first when I signed up with the team, my goal was simple. Do not embarrass them. I had just rejoined SOF and was not in peak condition. Six months later, I am very proud of the work I’ve done and so excited for Saturday. If I complete, I will be getting a tattoo to commemorate the day. I’ve never gotten one and never really understood the point of them before. I think I get it now. For me, this will be a badge of honour that I want to wear, not just keep on a shelf with my headband. Perhaps even see it as a physical representation of the changes I’ve made in my life and how I want to keep living it.

I will earn that tattoo.

 

EDIT **  “If I complete” means I want to cross that finish line of my own volition. Not in a wheelchair because I broke my leg in the Mud Mile  :)**

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The Grand Canyon

You know how people try to put their own insignificance into perspective by comparing you to the galaxy or whatever? It doesn’t work because, more than likely, you’ve never seen the vast expanse of space first-hand.

Several years ago, my guy and I took the “Ultimate Family Vacation”. We drove to Mount St. Helens, Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, etc….. It was really awesome.

Anyway, I had a very eye-opening and mind blowing moment when we got to the GC. The first thing we realized is how strange the other side looks.  Like it’s just a painting. Danny put it very succinctly, “It’s like your brain can’t even comprehend how huge it is so it makes you ‘see’ it as a painting.”

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Look how small the people look against that tilted rock. That tilted rock is a pebble in relation to that canyon.

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I’m looking down at the Colorado River.

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The average width is 300 feet across. When you’re up that high, it seems the width of two fingers. What I was realizing at this moment was, if I fell over the edge you would NOT see me from the top. I further understood that I’m only standing on an itty bitty piece of land on this planet. I finally had that big moment of clarity.

I DON’T MATTER!

That moment wasn’t a negative. It just clicked into place that I wasn’t special in the grand scheme of things. I’ve never been one to think of myself as better than others but, in that moment, my ego really took a beating.

When I have an accident, so what? I’m not the first and there’s always someone else whom has had an accident 20 times worse. When I suffer loss, again, I’m not the first and certainly not the last and don’t deserve special treatment. When I feel embarrassment, I now embrace it and turn it into a positive moment for myself to laugh at because I know nobody else will care the next day. At least I can remember it with a giggle instead of beating myself up.

The biggest was a real life changer. I stopped letting other people control how I feel and live. It makes no sense to do that when there are billions of people out there and yet I’m not living my life for myself?? I was so concerned with how this one person would make fun of me or be disappointed in my choices that it made me angry and defensive before even speaking.  I don’t do that anymore.

I sound like an idiot trying to explain how the Grand Canyon changed my life  😛

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Moments

I’ve been with my guy now for 5 years. We’re ridiculously well matched and it’s fairly easy to be together.  There are things I hate about him but the feeling is mutual so, yay!

I’ve always had a very crass sense of humour. It’s difficult to find people that share my style and it didn’t happen until I began doing stand-up. We met while in a competition, so he got an immediate and full frontal dose of what I find funny. Btw, he kicked my ass in the contest  🙂  Around a year later, we began dating and went on a two-week road trip. Stuck in a car together 24/7 and it was wicked awesome. I think we both knew that since we both came out of it alive and laughing, we would be okay.

A defining moment happened very recently between us that I’d like to share.

My mother passed away this past March from her alcoholism. We weren’t particularly close due to her drinking and I have been fine with that for a long time. When she died, it wasn’t a surprise. I felt really bad for my Dad though, because he tried so very very hard to keep her with us.

Anyways, we may not have been close but she was still my mom and as with most people dealing with a loss, you get caught off guard with little moments. The smell of a perfume, maybe a song on the radio. Sadly, there are only a handful of good memories but those few I have, are strong.

Recently, my guy and I were at a buffet and for dessert, I grabbed an apple tart and a slice of lemon meringue pie. My mother made EXCELLENT lemon meringue. In 36 years no one has come close. I got back to the table first and took a, (of course) disappointing bite and it hit me hard…..

I would never eat my mom’s lemon meringue pie again.

In the middle of the restaurant, I sat there with food in my mouth and tears going down my face. When he joined me and noticed that I was crying he said,

“What’s the matter?”

“……… my mom made really great lemon meringue pie…..”

He looked down at my plate and said the best thing ever…

“Yeah, but her apple tarts sucked.”

I laughed so hard that I almost choked. He held my hand while I pulled myself together and we finished our meal.

Some women might feel like he was being insensitive but my point is, he did what he knew I needed. He said something funny. It wasn’t just funny, it was clever and quick. If he’d said something “Hallmark”, I would have rolled my eyes and felt insulted that he didn’t know me at all.

I will always remember that moment.

Especially when I want to punch him  🙂

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Life lessons from a tomboy

Guys aren’t the only ones shoved into the Friend Zone. I’m sure that’s not a shock but it will be to those who believe girls NEVER get rejected for sex.

I’m small-breasted so automatically I’m unfuckable.

I’m not feminine in shape because I have an athletic body so I’m at least a size 8 and that’s just gross.

I have opinions and tell a filthy joke as well as any man so I’m classless.

When I walk into a room, men don’t stare at me……. but they talk to me!

That’s where I’m headed with this  🙂

I have learned so many valuable things being in the FZ that I’m a totally awesome girlfriend now. I knew a guy who was a bodybuilder and I was constantly asked, “Do I look fat today?” or “Do I look skinny today?”. I have NEVER asked that since then. It’s obnoxious to be around someone so insecure that they’re constantly in need of reassurance. Luckily it happened when I was 19 so I learned that lesson early!!

I was “skinny” once. I only ate once a day because, well, I was being an asshole to myself. For the first time in 30 years, my thighs didn’t touch and boy oh boy was I getting looks from men! For six months, I lived in a different body and I saw a totally different world in relation to male attention. Now please understand that, genetically, I have the body of a Samurai. I was born to be strong and athletic. My male friends in high school told me I was squat and looked like a boy. Hurtful, but it’s also true.

What I took away from that “skinny period” was why so many hot girls treat men poorly. With that much attention, they don’t need to be a decent human being when there are 10 others sniffing around. It reaffirmed my belief that I’d rather be a good average person than a sexy, superficial bitch.

**To the defense of my school friends, they also said I give off the air of being able to do damage. I don’t mind that so much!**

This last lesson is also an admission of a secret. To this day I feel asexual because I don’t get a reaction when I walk through a room. There is nothing I can do about that without surgery so I have to live with it. I see how men react to hot girls nearby and it can be devaluing as a woman sometimes. But having been around so many guys and watching them look at women I realized something very VERY important.

It doesn’t affect my relationship when I look at a hot guy. Not even a little. So why would it make him love me less? Simple as that. I even point out hot girls to my guy now.

I have a bunch more but you’ve probably stopped reading by now.

😀

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