“It took me quite a long time to develop a voice, and now that I have it, I am not going to be silent” –Madeleine K. Albright
As you probably already know, today (October 13), is #WomenBoycottTwitter day in solidarity of Rose McGowan, whose Twitter account was suspended on Wednesday following her allegations of Harvey Weinstein committing sexual assault against her (and countless others).
On Thursday, the Twitter Safety account made a statement, alleging that the tweet that lead to McGowan’s suspension included a private phone number, which they state is against its policies:
Continue reading “Women boyott twitter is just another demonstration of shining a light on white feminism”
*blows dust off blog*
So, it’s been nearly a year since I’ve written anything personal and, given that I literally write for a living, that seems kind of odd. Ever since I started my career as a journalist, nearly a year-and-a-half ago, I’ve only written two personal posts (if you include this one). I want to get back to this, which I say every time, but I’m keen on keeping my word, I swear.
Anyway, there’s always a reason one may come back to writing on a personal level, and for me the story is no different: for me, this is about making positive changes.
Continue reading ““The human body is the best work of art””
It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything for me, or something that I don’t get paid to write, and I’m craving to get back into my personal writing again, so here goes.
I’ve long ago written about my dealings with anxiety. But, I feel like it’s something that I could write about a lot, because my personal experiences with it are ever fluctuating, how I cope, and what I’m learning about it.
The only thing that doesn’t change, however, is the fact that I have anxiety—that so many of us do, really—and that we’re expected to just ‘get over it.’
Continue reading “On normalizing anxiety.”
Two years ago, I was on the verge of losing my second job in four months. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had that gut feeling something wasn’t right. I’d been having sleepless nights for weeks and woke up with crippling anxiety every morning, the voice inside my head saying, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’ I’d have to psych myself to get out of bed to go to work and suppress any thoughts I had about calling in sick. I didn’t want to be the person who couldn’t come in to work because of an anxiety attack.
When I was let go from my job the morning of May 1st, a sense of relief immediately washed over me instead of panic. I didn’t have to do it anymore. I didn’t have to spend my work days counting down every minute I was closer to going home for the day. I didn’t have to spend my entire Sunday dreading the sound of my alarm going off the next morning for the start of another week I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get through.
Don’t get me wrong, losing a job sucks. It’s terrifying because you need a job to pay your rent, bills, feed yourself, and all the other basic necessities of life, especially when you’re a 30-year old woman who lives on her own. I still had an EI claim open, so luckily I was able to go back on it while I did some job searching, but that quickly turned into some soul searching instead. Continue reading “I still don’t know what I was waiting for”
I had just turned nine when we moved into what would become our ‘family’ home in 1993. At the time, it was just my mom, step dad, and myself, until they got married the following year and then my brother came along in 1995.
Since we were new to the neighbourhood, we didn’t really know anyone so we were essentially strangers on our own street. Prior to the move, I was excited about where we’d be living because it was known across town as the ‘cool’ neighbourhood, although it was vast in size and some areas of it were nicer than others. Our street fell somewhere in the middle — not littered with fancy, rich suburban houses with swimming pools or trampolines in the backyard like some of the other streets — but with 1970’s exteriors that had been updated and mid-sized front and backyards that were comfortable for kids to play in. It was — and still is — a welcoming, friendly street that has evolved over time while remaining authentic and nostalgic, the way childhood streets and homes do, except for one house.
Continue reading “The house across the street.”
I’ve been trying to sit down and write this post for days now, but every time I think about doing it I clam up, feel tears forming behind my eyelid ducts and the chest pains tighten right above my heart even more than it already is and I feel like I’m about to die, or at the very least have a panic attack.
But I need to get this out. For me. For anyone going through the same thing I do on a month-to-month basis so maybe you won’t feel the same level of loneliness I do. For those who have loved ones who experience this so maybe they, too, can understand and empathise with how crippling PMDD can be, and want to help.
Continue reading “you won’t see me fall apart.”
Every day is a battle with my physical appearance — for the most part, anyway. This isn’t news, nor is it anything out of the ordinary. I know that it’s something we all struggle with, or have at one point. But, we shouldn’t feel we have to be silent about it, pretend it’s not a big deal, or suppress those thoughts until they take their tole, because they do, time and time again. It’s exhausting.
Because it matters. How we feel about ourselves matters. It’s a conversation we shouldn’t be afraid of having, but we are. Continue reading ““To lose confidence in one’s body is to lose confidence in oneself.””