Posts Tagged ‘emotional’

During this morning’s daily ritual of running into my roommate’s room to show her my outfit and ask her opinion and approval, right after she declared it’s fashion ability, she looked at me weird and calmly stated, “Your upper body is so small it’s annoying.” I laughed and asked her to repeat herself. “I wish I had your boobs,” she added as well.

“Well I wish I had your legs, so don’t worry!” I replied. Then we spoke about how if we could somehow put our two body types together, I’m sure at some point, we’d find something else to hate about them. Without doubt, this got me thinking about women and our obsession with finding the perfect body. Whether it’s in the body parts of our friends, the models in magazines or our favourite celebrities. Why aren’t we just content with what we’re dealt at birth?

I have a very Italian pear shaped body. And my roommate’s right, I’m very grateful for my small chest and torso as I can squeeze myself into things you wouldn’t believe for the amount of weight the scale tells me I am, but somehow, when looking in a mirror, I find my eyes trailing down to my thighs and knees. There’s just too much there I often tell myself. So I run, kind of; do spinning; now, I’ve started kickboxing; participated in Boot Camp; Pilates; yoga; swimming – etcetera, etcetera. The problem? The torso keeps getting smaller and those thighs never seem to fade. I know the rules of weight loss and muscle management. I know butt and boobs are first to go but the frustrating thing is how long it takes to get it off and all I have to do is go on vacation for a week and pretty much three months of hard work goes down the drain.

So why can’t we just be happy with what we’ve got? How come right after my roommate complimented my upper body, I immediately shifted conversation over to the things I hate about it? This got me to thinking about how we interpret compliments and our self body image and how we think others perceive us. At times, I can half-heartedly complain about my severe lack of breasts, but if there is a time that I’m wearing a bit of a cleavage-bearing top, I feel extremely self-conscious. I’m not used to people looking at my chest and not my eyes – it’s like nothing will ever make us happy. Although I don’t think I’d ever want to be the type of person who actually enjoyed someone staring at my chest instead of my eyes, but that’s another story.

All of this made me realize that although I love my body about a hundred times more than I ever did while hitting puberty, and while celebrity junk food news and idealistic, ridiculous fawning over plastic surgery Barbie faces (ramble!) has become the norm for today’s teenagers to look up to, there’s still something off with what I see when I look at myself in the mirror – and I don’t think I’m alone in that department.

How do we change this self imposed body image we have on ourselves? How can we just love what your momma gave you? How do you do it?

“Most people would rather be certain they’re miserable than risk being happy.”

I saw this quote today and started thinking about life and the way we live it. The way we walk through each day, focusing on the people who cut us off while driving, the rude barista at Starbucks in the morning or the fact that no matter how early we leave to get somewhere, something always manages to make us late. I am no stranger to being this person sometimes. It happens. It’s inevitable. The inability to be positive at all hours of the day.

Then I can talk to people who really are able to put things in perspective for me. Like a sister. Who thankfully is bored enough at work that she can write me emails that remind me to live in the present and not worry about the past. And not the past like last year, but the past like yesterday. It really puts things in perspective, thinking like that. Realizing what’s important and what’s not. Realizing what’s worth expending energy into and what’s not – and remembering how to differentiate between the two.

I’ve happened to realize that nothing is life is simple. It really isn’t. And the harder to strive for simplicity and ease, the harder it is to find. It’s not about finding the perfect routine that will keep you calm at all hours of the day but more about finding that calm within yourself. So that when you are handed a situation that might make you a little colourful, you have that calm that allows entrance for ease.

On the May 2-4 long weekend that just passed, I hosted a party for a few of my closest friends just to celebrate the fact that I could have one (living in Calgary the last two years really put a detrimental plan-stopper on that one) and the beginning of summer.

Over fifteen people came – my highest turn out yet! And I felt it was a great success, mostly, as I realized that we all have so many people in our lives that love us and want to spend time with us – whether we’re single, dating or married. It’s these people that come out from all facets of our lives that we’re able to see just what kind of relationships we are capable of maintaining. I phrase it in that way because it’s hard work to maintain friendships and as the group you’re friends with increases, the harder it is to maintain all aspects of what a friendship entails. The description of what a friendship entails can be grossly misleading as well; depending on whom you’re talking to.

A friend of mine decided to cease being friends with me a couple of weeks ago and I was left hurt, blind sided and (true to form) asking questions to no one in particular about what could have possibly happened. This person was a very dear friend of mine throughout our university years but as we grew older and drifted apart (ranging from what cities we lived in to our careers) our emails remained and the odd phone call was placed. Communication was there between us but we’d definitely lost the closeness we had in terms of breaking news and calling the other on speed dial.
Suffice to say, our friendship hadn’t maintained it’s strength these past few years but I suppose betrayal and loyalty had its hand in the demise of the friendship at the end of the day. I was accused of being dishonest but with no situation – I guess I’m just supposed to know what I did. But I don’t.

For a person who was not in my life on a daily basis, I’m finding it difficult to just let go. I’m constantly wondering what happened and re-thinking everything I’ve done and said over the last month of two. I’m a person who hates being hated. I’m a person who doesn’t like not being liked. Maybe that’s an issue to deal with at another time, but for right now – it feels wrong. Friendships don’t last all the time, I know this, and people grow apart, move on and up or just don’t blend anymore. But I’ve never had a friendship just blow up in my face so quickly with no explanation. We’re done. You’re done. You’re a horrible person. It leaves someone to question – am I?

Could I have done more in the friendship to make sure it didn’t end this way? Probably, I could have done (or not done) whatever it is that garnered me this position of “ex-friend” in the first place – but how are you to know if the other party won’t talk to you?

Many in my life say that dwelling on this situation or even the person shouldn’t matter and I should just move on and rid myself of the negativity. I’m all for it – but tell my mind that. I work in an office alone, being creative and it’s a bit difficult to pull creativity out of the woodwork when you have something blocking it from exposure.

With time, things will improve, I know – they already have, but I can’t help but wonder – if I could go back and do things differently, would I? Probably not. Instead, I would probably go back to the Saturday evening of the long weekend when all the friends that could make it to the cottage, had, and were all eating hamburgers, hot dogs and sausages I had supplied for the party. I stood on the grass watching them like a creep all laughing on the deck and I couldn’t help but smile.

I have amazing friends. I have amazing people in my life that would do anything for me and I’d do the same. I have friends that I haven’t seen in years, yet still make time for me if we need it. I have friends that push me to be the best I can be when I don’t think I have it in me. I have friends that understand my incessant ridiculous love of Sushi and don’t judge. I have friends that will just sit and watch television with me, because I love Cougar Town, even though they don’t. I have friends that love me and fight with me and laugh with me and smile with me. And we fight; I’ve fought with all my friends. The difference is, the friendship is worth way more than the fight and that’s why it’s a hell of a lot easier to maintain.

I promised someone I would continue working on my latest blog post tonight and post it. But I left my laptop at work, forgetting the document was started, opened and not saved on that computer and not the one at home. So then I started writing another post, same topic, from scratch and I hate it. Sitting in front of my computer in my sister’s old childhood room that has now doubled as my home office as of late unable to muster enough creativity to write something.

I used to be a night writer. Didn’t matter what the topic, as soon as sunset hit I could make these fingers type like nobody’s business about nothing in particular (although topics usually varied from school, the opposite sex, friendships and work among others) and everything in between.

Now, I feel as though I’m out of practice, out of habit and completely drained emotionally out of fear that I’m not pleasing enough people, not enough people care to even be pleased or that nothing’s ever good enough for me to share anymore. It’s a realization that I come to every time I sit down, ready to write. I think it comes from the fact that I sometimes creep over to my old writings and re-read the words that poured out of me, the feelings that overwhelmed me and judge my past self.

I find now, that the words free-flow out of me in the mornings, when the sun is shining and the world seems to be my oyster – a brand new beginning every day. Not that I’ve been so eager to get up early and type away in the mornings, but still. My life has changed me into somewhat of a morning person; if I can just find that motivation every day to get up early I’d be set. It was there for a while and somehow it faded (I’m sure the lure of website designing 24/7 had something to do with it) but it’s creeped back up with the presence of a new office location and a resounding sense of relaxation following my trip to Mexico last week.

So I’m sure the writing will eventually become more habitual, frequent and (let’s hope) more inspiring in the near future.

Next stop, gym.

I’m trying to figure out a lot about my life right now, while simultaneously just trying to live in the moment and accept it as it comes. Do you know how hard that is to do when you’ve diagnosed yourself as a Type A personality with a hint of Attention Deficit Disorder combined with this overwhelming desire to somehow make up for the last two years of my life being spent in oblivion?

I feel like the days are flying by and somehow at the end of them, I am getting things accomplished and yet I don’t seem to find any satisfaction in any of it – and then, of course, I start to wonder why. My Type A personality tells me I’m not doing enough, every moment spent in “down time” is precious time wasted that I could have been producing something, creating something else and thinking about doing even more. The realist in me tries to take a step back, relax and realize that while going out for Thai dinner with a friend, it’s completely okay that I’ve left my BlackBerry in the car. Completely okay.

What am I addicted to, I wonder. What is so important about receiving an email as soon as it arrives in my inbox at 8 pm? It’s not like I can really do much at that time until I get to a computer. I mean, I can – but it’ll usually involve an apologetic process to whomever I’m with about how it’s work and I can’t let it go. When the truth is, I can let it go, I just choose not to because I think I feel a certain sense of importance at the fact that I’m needed in a work capacity after regular business hours. How insane. Who even cares? If they care, the person/people I’m with, it’ll be that I’m being rude, not important! I know this, yet I check the message anyway.

I need a balance. And I wonder why this balance doesn’t come naturally to me. My birthday is October 1st – smack dab in the middle of the Libra, the astrological sign of balance. So why can’t I concentrate on doing one thing at a time? Loving one thing at a time? Experiencing one thing at a time? Can I control my life enough to create that? Is that something one can do – I can do?

I’m so addicted to being in the know. I need to be in the know. With news – local, national and world – with whatever social media site I’m viewing, technology, bestsellers, movies, music, sports and people. I’m left to wonder, am I tapping into my old high school self? The one who felt a constant need to fit in and therefore “love” everything so I always had something to talk about with a new face. I’m excited for knowledge, learning and education – but every day, with every piece of knowledge – I wonder where the hell it all goes!

Or … is it a reason for a lack of total productivity and procrastination?