A speech for 1992 – How far have we come?

Pondering the new placement

Day two of classes and things are looking pretty good.  I had my first class today in preparation for my placement in mental health.  It should be really interesting.  I’m hoping that this placement teaching me quite a bit about what it means to live with a mental illness and all the stigma that can be related to it.  It’s an amazing thing to be there with someone as they start to learn to better manage something that can cause them discomfort, but it will also be challenging.  I mean, what do I really know about marginalization, poverty and inequity?

Part of me is a little bit nervous about the placement in that respect.  Yes, I might get some of the book knowledge required to interact in my placement, but I really want to make a genuine connection with people.  Will that be possible?  Will I be seen as the other, someone that can’t be trusted?  I don’t know.  Maybe it won’t even be like this at all – my impression of mental health facilities is probably already skewed by the wordly view I already have.  This placement will probably do a very good job at skaking up those beliefs – and I look forward to that.

In the end, it’s about learning – and that’s what I intend to do.  At the very least, I want the clients I interact with to feel like I respect them and that I want to learn from them – not because of their diagnosis, but because they are people who have had interesting and life changing experiences that I can learn from too.  But it’s hard to explain that to people without coming across as disingenuous.

I’ll figure it out.

Old friends – the good and the gone

I had a great morning today – I had a chance to go our for breakfast with one of my best friends from Queen’s.  We had a really good chat, and it was nice to spend time with someone who knows me well.  I was so lucky at Queen’s to have met the girls who became my family for the entire time.  We fought, laughed, made up.  We saw each other through trials and tribulations, highs and lows.  And we know each other on a deep level.  Despite the fact that we don’t life in the same city anymore, when we get together, it’s like we’ve never been apart.  It’s awesome.   Hence why it was so nice to spend some time with Court this morning.

I’ve been noticing lately that I’m really missing having close friends who have known me for a long time in my life.  Most of my really close friends from the FT community have moved away from the city, and some of the people I was previously close to I’m no longer close with.  It’s really sad at times.  I often find myself mourning the loss of these friendships, especially this year because I’ve got through a huge amount of transition.  You get lost in that process, and really just need to have someone reflect your true self back to you.  I think that’s what I’ve been mourning the most.  I feel like I’ve expended tremendous amounts of energy this year with all that’s happened, and I don’t have a refreshing face to say “Hey kid, you’re OK!”, someone who has seen me through ups and downs for years.

I guess many times we take friends for granted when they’re around.  You don’t think you’ll get to the day where 10 years of friendships seems to have been forgotten, and you have only 5 minute snippets of “true” conversations.  You don’t think about the time when a year full of intense friendship falls apart in such a way that even making light conversation seems awkward as all hell. But it happens, and sometimes you just need to have that memory to remind you to value what you do have.  Right?

It’s natural that life bring transition and that you feel the need to mourn the past.  That’s a part of the process of healing and moving on.  It also helps you see where you’ve done well, and where you haven’t.  You learn.

It’s just the hurt that I would like to leave behind, instead of the friendships.

I’m different and that’s ok

I’ve been pondering about something in the last little while. It’s not a new topic – it’s something I’ve been aware of my whole life, but it’s been brought into focus lately because of a few interactions that have seemed to cause a bad reaction in me.

Let me explain.

I’m different. I don’t mean different in a negative context or that I have some sort of problem or issue. I just simply mean I have been brought up differently than many of the people that I know. Although it’s not 100% obvious – I’m an immigrant to this country. I moved her from Zimbabwe when I was 6 months old, and my parents did not grow up in this country. They are Rhodesians with British/Scottish heritage. That makes them (and me) different because we don’t necessarily have the same traditions as many of the people I hang out with on a regular basis. I use/understand different words and expressions at times. I may be more reserved when it comes to table manners. I may feel obligated to have a clean house before I invite you over. There are many other examples – but I am unique when it comes to my experience. And that’s a good thing because it makes me unique.

It’s just that in the last few months, I’ve been feeling more and more self-conscience about it. And sometimes I feel downright persecuted for it – prompting me to make sterner comments than I like because I feel like people are laughing at me. And I’m frustrated by it. If I had an English accent, no one would question why I use the word “slippy” when describing ice on the ground and not “slippery”. People would not make fun my description of the squirrels scrabbling in my ceiling. But yet these things are pointed out to me and I feel totally made fun of.

It’s like a bad flashback to grade 4 when I wrote a heartfelt description of my trip to Africa when I met my family in person for the first time in my life – I talked about meeting my Granny “O” (which stands for Osler) – and I had every person in my class laugh. One particular girl, Cheryl, purposely used it to torment me for weeks on end because it pointed out that I was not a Newfie, I was was weird and stupid. GAH!

I know we’re all thinking kids can be mean – and they can – but kids can also point out the obvious. And in this situation, the obvious became a means of ripping a strip off my back instead of being something to learn about. I guess that’s why lately I’ve been feeling like I need to stand up a little more when I feel like I’m being pigeon-holed with the label of different. I fly right back to being the misunderstood freak that would never fit in. I couldn’t stand up for myself then, but I can now so I do.

Maybe it’s a weird sense of pride. Something I have to defend. I don’t know. I think I need to ponder it more. But I do want to say that in some ways, I’m very glad to be aware of this internal struggle, or whatever you want to call it. It places the power in my hands to change my actions so that I don’t persecute other people for being different than me, at the very least to the best of my ability at the time.

I’ll figure it out, and I’m sure the Big Guy will point me in the right direction.

Random thoughts

I’m done my job in just over a week – it feels very strange to have someone to teach and to have to clean out my desk, my emails, etc.  I guess part of me feels like I’ll be back on the next Monday.  I’m really gonna miss some of the crazy people I work with.  Plus, I head straight my last day of work to a wedding – so it kind of feels like it’s back to running around and I don’t have time to process being finished.  Pretty soon school will start and that will just go too…Does anyone else feel sometimes like life if happening to them without them feel a part of it?

That above statement haunts me though.  Once I read in a magazine that one of the symptoms you were depressed is that you feel like your life is running you and that you had no control over it.  I mean, it’s a pretty general statement, but it had haunted me periodically during my life – ever since I read it – because I feel like that when I’m stressed, tired and have no down time – does that mean I’m depressed?  God forbid!  Seriously.  Being labelled like that is like telling me I have cycled back to being 7 yeards old and hating myself.  Gah. 

Labeling sucks.

I mean that.  Whether it’s the innocent titles we give friends or the mean ones we use when we’re angry – it’s awful.  In my sociology course I learned about the labeling theory, which is basically concerned with out an individual self is influenced (or created) by being categorized and described by their society.  It’s mostly concerned with how being are labelled as deviant from a norm – especially criminals in the justice system.  It basically highlights that after many encounters with being told their are deviant, a person who has very little wrong can begin to internalize the label, and in fact create behaviours that are “deviant” to prove they are what they have been told they are. 

Sometimes in my life I see that influence.  I can think back to my growing up years were I was labelled at “different” and “weird” because of my African heritage.  I then accepted that label and began to pride myself of being weird and off-beat.  But I can also think back to the not-so-contructive labels, like “blonde”, “flirt”, and other stronger things – and I see how I internalized those labels in a very self-destructive way.  I absorbed them, and didn’t directly push to become those things, but I took them to heart.  I called myself by those labels.

Then there are the labels that I didn’t want, didn’t ask for, and can’t shake off.  And they have entered so deeply into my soul that I have become my own harsh labeler.  And they cut off the light.  They cut out the joy.  They bind me in a place I don’t want.  A while ago I started to try and pull them off, tear them down and rework them.  Some days it makes me feel so good – but lately, it’s been too much pulling, too much hard work – you know, it’s like soaking a label until it wet, trying to peel it off, but it comes in pieces, and leaving sticky residue that comes off, but the surface is never ask smooth as the part without the label…

That tough.  Really.  It’s tough to do, it’s tough to talk about.  And it’s tough to know that there are probably very few people who understand what I’m blogging about.  And that leaves you tender, raw, and tired.

Then you take a breath.  You realize you don’t have to explain the unlabeling to anyone.  You just have to unwrite them, and trust whole-heartedly that you’re doing a good thing.

A quote

Someone posted this on F-net, and I thought it was really interesting to ponder:

“Thomas Merton once said that spiritual life is essentially to love. One doesn’t love in order to do what is good or to help or to protect someone. If we act that way, we are perceiving the other as a simple object, and we are seeing ourselves as wise and generous persons. This has nothing to do with love. To love is to be in communion with the other and to discover in that other the spark of God.”

- except from the Author’s note in “By the River Pedra, I Sat Down and Wept” by Paulo Coelho

What’s in a name?

The wedding plans are coming along – we get married in just under two months, and I find myself relatively calm. M and I have our moments of freaking out, but overall, we’re getting everything sorted. For me though, I’ve got one other thing I need to work through: changing the name.

I don’t think as a little girl, or even a year ago, I could comprehend what it means to say you’re going to take on the name of the man you are to wed. It’s not a new concept, and it’s not even a strange one. In fact, it’s a tradition I kinda like and have never had the intention to go against. But now that’s it coming down to crunch time, I find it’s making me jittery and I’m getting a strange case of cold feet.

And the worst part is – I’m not sure why! Obviously, it’s a HUGE change. I won’t be “me” anymore – but I’ll be something new, something different – a new covenant. And that’s sooo awesome. But still, I’m finding it hard to look at my name – the name that I have come to know and love for 26 years, and I think “I won’t be that anymore!”

Girls out there – how have you deal with these mixed feelings? Seriously. (This is of course going on the asumption I still have readers – it has been AGES!)

I’d love to get some feedback!

False humility

As I was commuting to work today, I was pondering the tendency of what I have dubbed “false humility”. I’m referring to the want to express your hard work on a certain humbling experiences to others in a way that it almost back-handedly asking for acceptance. It creates a sense of insecurity and insincerity. Who else is guilty of this all the time?

As per normal, I find myself getting stuck on the balance between the extremes. One cannot be too humble, so as to not accept any attention, as that is a form of humbleness that masks a slight arrogance, meaning as you are too good to accept praise or, worse, that masks one’s inability to love oneself. Also, one cannot also be too proud as to believe they should never be broken in a humbling experience.

Humbleness, but definition is not proud or even can be said to be actions offered in submission style (read servitude in Christian-ese). Of course, approaching any task with this mind set is not easy, and I believe, in fact, that it takes a very special person to come across as truly humble. More often than not, we want to seem like we’re coming from the right place, saying that we’re willing to serve others modestly. Yes, intentions of that nature are fantastic, and should be practiced, but how often to we hide that need for acceptance and validation in our hearts are we embark on our day to day tasks? Are we all falling into the trap of “false humility?”

I know myself, there are times that I do certain actions that appear to be serving on the outside, but on the inside I might be thinking “If I just do this, then I will seem like this…” Knowing that I have this tendency is of course the first step, but it’s hard. I want so much to just “be” and not to worry about the debilitating constraints of this world, or even self-imposed constraints.

Maybe it just comes down to a question – “What is my motivation?”

Think about it. I know I will.

Fun fashion and the push/pull

Tonight I went out dancing to celebrate my friends Ann Marie and Mena’s birthday at Supermarket. It was a good time for sure, we danced as much as we could! (I didn’t last nearly as long as I wanted to seeing as sleepover = going to sleep late and eating too many sweets). It was just another one of those funny FT does dancing outings that I always kinda think about afterwards.

Sometimes it’s just weird to go out and do “normal” activities with the church fam. The whole dance club experience is super different. Normally, the whole clubbing context is generally sexualized and surrounded in a flood of alcohol (at it’s worst mind you) but that element isn’t a focus in the least when you’re out with Christian friends. In fact, it’s liberating to some extent because you know you don’t have to worry about people trying to hassle you or hit on you, and it’s nice. But at the same time it can be awkward depending on you own motivations for the evening…

For example, this evening, I felt good. I had on one of my “fun fashion” outfits on (see right) – i.e. an outfit that I had put a little thought into that is a little more funky – and there was a part of me that wanted the guys at the club to appreciate me for that, and my assets. In the back of my head, there was this small, self-serving voice that was saying “I look good tonight, I could totally make a good impression on a boy if I wanted to”. The other voice was thinking “Do you really want that to be a basis for meeting your husband, ’cause that’s what you really want, right?” It’s a tricky push/pull that one…In the end, I don’t think I really want either, I just want to be appreciate for who I am, and be ready to accept meeting the right person when the time comes. And that probably won’t be at a club, and it may not even be at FT, I don’t know. I’ll have to wait and see.

I just makes me think about the fine balance between our own small inner voices and the still small voice that is meant to lead us onward. Vanity vs Victory. Which will win the next battle?

Just friends

“The friend zone”, “we’re just friends”, “c’mon it’s not like that, we’re like brother and sister”…and so on. How many of us have been caught in that sort of situation when you’re really rather be in another category? I know I’ve been there. I’ve been there to the point of going back and forth in the like/not like sense with a friend so many times that I’ve damned near ruined a great friendship. I’ve also been in the “just a friend” category with one to many men it seems. Ha! In fact, in High School, I end up being the girl that every guy I liked seemed to come to for advice about the girl he liked! Argh! No one likes being that position.

What do you do about it? Do you settle? If for some reason you can get past the romantic feelings you have for someone can you still be their friend? And when and if you get to a point where that isn’t an option anymore, what do you do?

This is something I wonder about – the fine lines between friendship and romance and between infatuation and love. Surprise, surprise, I don’t have all the answers. But it gets you thinking. What do you do for love? What do you do for friendship?

Maybe it just boils down to trust and vulnerability. In this “non-committal” world, maybe it’s better to take a stance or even to just throw something at the wall and hope it sticks. Isn’t that what it’s about? You’ve got to put yourself out there, and just keep the faith that when it really matters the one you love will love you back.

But it doesn’t always work that way. You might not always get that feeling in your gut that says “This is IT!” Maybe you’ll just end up with a long lingering feeling that there is potential for more between you and a friend. Are you willing to risk everything for that potential, and what if that doesn’t work out? Can you go back to being friends?

Well, at least on that I have an opinion. I believe there is always that potential. After all, I’ve managed to stay friends with at least 2 ex-boyfriends and numerous ex-almost-boyfriends…It just takes time, and understanding…maybe a good cry, pint of ice cream or in a worse case scenario a few days being plain bitchy (sorry Seaners). I’m so blessed to still have these friends because these are people I truly value. Of course, it does help if you’ve got a solid friendship/acquaintance to stand on before you start messing with it.

It’s weird though, lately I’ve found myself toying with the other side of the coin. As hard as it may be, you may hit the wall and give into the fact that it may not be possible to remain friends, especially if you’re always looking for something more. (This goes for both ex and crush situations as well). It comes down to realizing you just might have to surrender the friendship because you don’t know how to love that person in an unselfish way. And that’s not a fair or fun place to be in for either party. It’s a tough thing to face, especially for one like me who has a hard time letting go of things in general (stupid perfectionist/stubborn streak). I don’t like giving up without a fight. It’s just humbling to realize that giving over something so important to you just might mean you’re about to start one of the biggest fights/struggles of your life – one you may never get to give up on. Sometimes the willingness to take up the fight might just be enough.

Again, it’s a fine line. One I’m going to keep walking until I land on the right side.