The Lost Posts - 04/15 - Nudity and a splash of colour.

Over the past year I've been writing in my blog about my evolution. There were  quite a few posts I had left unpublished. I felt at the time that they might impact my case negatively, or that I wasn't yet comfortable sharing with the world. Maybe you'll find something of value in your own journey, through my words...

"When something is important to you, you'll do it, even if the odds are not in your favour." - Elon Musk

Nudity and a splash of colour (written April 2015):

On Thursday I found my car payments weren't paid last month. Nissan Finance called me as I was on my way to work to let me know that they needed to receive payment immediately. I'm already way over my head financially. It's not an option for me to make the payments. I'm living pay cheque to pay cheque; often choosing between food and yoga, which I need for the stress management of my messy life. I've already given up small luxuries like coffee out and take out. Though I am 'poor', I'm rich in connections, and lucky for me my sugar sister is always there to spoil me with luxurious restaurant meals.

After so many years of two-sided trust issues, and not being on the same page as far as personal views, negotiations on the settlement of our assets has pretty much been impossible. We will bankrupt ourselve fighting for money that will no longer exsist, and for kids that really need us both.

In my old life I thought I needed all these things; a nice house full of nice things, vehicles, toys, ect, ect. You get caught up in fitting into a specific lifestyle. I was conditioned, and back then, things were everything. I literally thought it would kill me to let go. Little by little, I've had to let go of the small things; most of my personal belongings, the pictures, the pets. The big things; my home, tiny footsteps and giggles everyday, my relationship, my stay-at-home-lifestyle and expensive habits, and soon my car. 

As time passes I realize more everyday how out of alignment with my true self I had been living. The more I let go, the lighter I feel. Ironically I didn't actually need any of it. Life goes on. My world didn't end. I often think of how strange hindsight is, and how funny it is to hold on to things, after you master the art of letting go. 

You-know-who recently said in an argument between us that he didn't need to change, insisting that he was in the right and made some condescending remark about how he "didn't need to become some spirit animal". Whatever that means. I guess it means im transforming, and he's happy staying the same. Or I suppose that's my interpretation of his words. My youngest recently said to me, when I tried telling her that it wasn't healthy to watch TV all the time, "your not the boss of me, dads the boss of you."  Atleast when we were a family, my presence created a balance between our extremes. They need us both. They need balance.   

I always made it such a priority to teach our girls about health and learning to be comfortable and happy in their ever growing and changing bodies. If they wanted to roll around in the privacy of our back yard in the nude under my watch, I understood. After all, who can remember clothes when your chasing butterflies, fairies, or even dreams. 

I remember being a kid and running through sprinklers then rolling in the dirt buck naked, beneath a canvass of clouds. I laughed and played and nobody ever made me feel strange or dirty about it. It was never a spectacle, it was just normal.  I remember feeling free, and not needing anything but dandelions and dirt. 

Now when I watch my own children, miles away on FaceTime, under the care of my polar-opposite co-parent, my heart aches, for his values which are not in alignment with my own. I hope they remember to chase butterflies, and to dream, and to believe in magic, and to find contentment in life's boundless adversities. 

Parenting is not only meeting basic needs, but also nurturing growing spirits. 

As I layed naked in the middle of my living room floor tonight, colouring mandellas, lost in thought, I laughed out loud, because it was the perfect metaphor for how polar opposite you-know-who and I really are. 

Here's to the art of letting go; 

People. 

Money. 

Cars. 

Clothes

Expectations.

And everything in between. You'll survive. I promise. 

Xoxoxo 

Steph

The woman who cries in bar bathrooms.

A few years ago I found myself in a rut.

Okay, rut is probably a huge understatement. I was in reality more like15 feet into dysfunction.

As many weekends as I possibly could, I subconsciously searched for all sorts of escapes. Home was not a place of peace or comfort or happiness. I didn't even understand then, as I do now, the way it feels to be home.

My unhappiness affected everything, namely my relationships. I hurt people and if I couldn't hurt them I would try to drag them down with me.

I never really wanted to marry the father of my children, I just held onto the hope that we would somehow be a broken whole. To be honest, I don't think he really wanted to marry me either. Over the years I lost myself, bit by broken bit, and forgot what it felt like to believe in people (myself included). I didn't understand my married friends. I don't think they could understand me either.

I've been thinking a lot about a particular night a few years ago. It was my very close girlfriends 30th birthday. In a lot of ways we were the same, but all I wanted to do was let loose, have some drinks, dance, laugh, forget.

A few drinks down, all she wanted was to get home to her husband, kids, home, bed, life.

I remember her crying and leaving. I remember not understanding.

Fast forward to now, I'm that woman. The woman crying in the bathroom at the bar. You know, if I ever even found myself in a bar again. All I can think about is getting home. Getting into bed. Picking my babies up. Being a family. Being whole, only together.

Now I'm the woman I couldn't  understand before. I don't know the other girl anymore. I guess she got forgotten when I put the pieces back together. What a beautiful loss.

We all have to find our own way in our own time I guess.

To my married friends, who stood by me (and to be honest, put up with me) when they couldn't understand me, you have a most special place in my heart, even from afar. Thank you.

Rental Freedom

This week we're back to school! My baby-est baby officially started kindergarden, and my biggest lil' is somehow already in grade 3. As many of us already know, time has a way of speeding up ten fold once we become parents. This is especially true to me, after our lost year.

This morning was only the second time since our separation, a year and a half ago, that him and I have had to be in a contained space together. It was hard for me to breathe. Until that moment, I have been (mostly) relentlessly grounded. I have become well practiced in taking the uncomfortable and challenging steps, even when I feel like I cant fucking breathe. I have, for the most part, become a master at ignoring the flight in me. Breathing through it.

The kindergarden classroom, however, was possibly the most irrationally claustorphobic experience I've had, since the end of my world. We kept small talk & eye contact minimum. I reminded myself to just fucking breathe. We listened to Mrs. Kindrgarden-Teacher speak, then went our separate ways. Who knew a year could feel so short, yet 10 minutes could feel so long.

Many things have not gone my way. Anybodies way, for that matter.

So here we are, now two strangers, trying to navigate co-parenting, with a million miles of disagreements between us, trying to carry the weight of our worlds.

This school year, my partner and I will be facing a whole new array of challenges; commuting my girls 45 minutes to an from school, the balancing act of doing so with our work schedules, finances, adjusting to the everyday challenges of being a family again, all whilst trying to start a business and navigate an emotionally draining custody battle.

And somehow, balancing it all, I have never felt happier, more free, laughed so much, or been so filled with gratitude.

My mind is no longer yours to rent.  This fall marks freedom.

When I was alone I prayed for strength, family, & love.

The universe gave it to me.

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

Lost & Found

I'm Life lately has been a crazy mixture of happiness and exhaustion. I've been drowning myself both in work and play- receptionist, server, mom, friend, yogi, among other things. Life has a weird and ironic way of  keeping you on your toes.

On that note, for the sake of moving forward in all areas of my life, I've been trying really hard to let go of some emotional and material baggage I've been carrying around the past few years. One load, being the weight of stars being crossed. The second load, being the material items from my old life, that I held onto. Once upon a time these possessions meant everything, and now the things mostly serve as bittersweet reminders of my past.

When the breakup first happened last year, I had gone up north within the first few months, I had no life plan, or direction at the time, so I packed up the things which I felt I needed to keep, such as our dining room table, my treadmill, our entertainment stand, clothes, photos, decor, ect, ect. Afterall, what if I went back? What if I had nothing forever? What if I couldn't get on my feet on my own? I just couldn't let go, so, I neatly packed all of my worldly possessions into a storage unit that would soon be gathering dust 15 000 kms away.

A year later, as I unpack boxes full of my long lost belongings, I'm realizing that none of these things were really important after all.

After 10 years, a home, two babies, and our home, the only things I have chosen to keep are as follows:

Buddha painting
Laying Buddha
Amy Mugs
Select clothing
Salt crystal lamp
Photo albums
Ninja Blender
Sex and the City DVD's

List of things I found, that could never fit inside boxes:

Strength
Freedom
Independance
Self-love
Happiness
Laughter
Dedication
Forgiveness

List of things I let go of (some, reluctantly at first):

Furniture
Money
Sleeping in
A year with my girls
The things I can't change
The things I can't have
Him
My Rogue
Expectations
Anger

It's so weird, the things we think we need, versus the things that actually serve us. I hope the thrift store, and the other, enjoys my belongings as much as I did, once upon a time.

xo
Steph

Dating 101 & Single Lady Survival Guide

Being single is weird. I've almost been in relationships non stop since I was fifteen. I ended my 10 year relationship and jumped right into my next shorter lived relationship. Both taught me some major life and self lessons; the biggest being that I need to learn to be content in my aloneness.

I've spent the last few months learning the difference between loneliness and aloneness, struggling to find the happy medium. I think this is critical to finding oneself. I know enough about myself to know that I should NOT be in a serious long term relationship at this stage in my soul searching. Even though I'm self aware, I sometimes feel crippled by the fact that for the first time ever, i'm completely alone.

Recently, I had a brief lapse in judgement, not once, but twice. I sacrificed my personal goals, standards, and time in an effort to fill my time with the presence of another. It dosen't matter how amazing somebody is, the important and difficult thing about 'dating' (banging, seeing, netflix-and-chilling, situationshipping) is that time is short. I have too many things to do to before I can be committed to another; and if I stumble upon another a long my journey that's worthy of my time, we must be in alignment.

When we are young, we are blinded by the beginning butterflies, and naivety, its easier to sacrifice ourselves for another, and hard to walk away when we know it's not working. Knowing when to walk away and face our aloneness to be true to ourselves is a wisdom we all must learn.

It's safe to say i'm thoroughly traumatized by my past love-affairs and experiences. I'd like to say i'm a fierce independent woman who dosen't need or want a man in my life, but in reality I think I do genuinely want a companion to spend my precious time on- ONE day.


SINGLE LADY SURVIVAL GUIDE: 

1) Never skip yoga or any other wellness activity for a man 

2) Tell the hard truths

3) Condoms, birth control and bullets

4) Go to bed. Wash your fucking make up off- you'll thank me tonorrow. 

5) Don't rush anything. You have time. 

6) Keep a screw driver, tire gauge, and zip ties on hand always - you don't need a man! 

7) You're the fixer upper- not him. Do your work. 

8) Get used to sleeping alone- enjoy sprawling out! 

9) Laugh. This too shall pass. 

10) Sleep with only one person at a time, always. NO exceptions. 

11) Take yourself on dates; eat a burger, drink a beer if you must. Enjoy the freedom. 

Ps: I told you so. 

Once upon a time I chased boys, and then men; now is the time to chase my dreams.

Ps: Thank you to the anazing men who have stumbled in and out of my life on your own journeys, teaching me lessons I needed to learn about dating and friendship. 

Silent Space

Almost 6 months ago I first entered the yoga studio, which now feels like a second home to me. Familiar faces of my fellow yogi regulars, are now feeling more like friendships. After all, what the fuck do you say to someone you just met, about yourself, when your life is in a state of disarray. I'm often tongue-tied, searching for the answers to what would typically seem to be easy questions to answer. What do you do. Where do you work. Are you From here. Are you single. Do you have kids. My answers are far from typical. I've gotten good at the art of vagueness, avoidance, and denial.

The great thing about people who make yoga a part of themselves, is they are comfortable in the silent space. To me, in my current chapter, it's indescribably amazing to have found such a place. 

I felt pretty lost walking into the studio for the first time, but I knew I needed to be there. When I told my instructor that I was there because my life was falling apart, she said that it was transforming.

Transforming.

What a powerfully truthful way to put it.

My life is a mess, and sometimes that means I'm a mess. That's the amazing thing about being human is we are ever evolving. I tried to explain this over the phone to my 8 year old daughter, the notion that nothing is forever. If your heart is broken, it only is for right now. Nothing is permenant, everything is fleeting. Breathe through it all. 

Our breathe is the only true constant, Atleast while we 'here'. 

And just when I think I can't go any further, both in yoga and in life, I remind myself, the pain is just for now, not forever. Get comfortable with the uncomfortable; breathe through it. 

I'm fucking transforming. 

Mind, body, & soul.

Repo Man & Muddy Water

On Wednesday afternoon, after I watched my last material connection with my old life get pulled away by the repo man, I felt a bit like I was rock-bottoming for atleast the second time this week. My sister and I made the spur of the moment decision to do something over-the-top-spontaneous...

"May I live like the lotus; at ease in muddy water."

I'm an emotional mess (this is putting it lightly). I've been doing my very best to balance working long weeks so I can afford to take some time off when the kids get here, and get my apartment outfitted to have them living here part time. Having my car taken away put me in a pretty bad position because the other and I had agreed week-on/week-off shared custody upon their arrival back on the rock, The problem with not having a reliable vehicle is that I'm going to be expected to drive back and forth twice daily on my week, to to the next town, 60 kms from here.

Fortunately, my sister had been given my dads old car, which has been sitting unused for the past year. In my desperation, she signed the papers over as a gift.  It's a 2003 Pontiac Grand am- far from my luxury SUV, but getting a car as a gift is a luxury in itself, so i'm feeling extremely blessed.

This old gem needed some work (to say the least), and 1000 dollars that I couldn't afford, some much appreciated help, and a day off of work later, I got it on the road. 

Pulling out of the driveway for the first time made me feel so happy I could cry... that is until not even 3 minutes down the road I got pulled over by a bicycle cop. 180 dollar fine for distracted driving- histories most expensive song play ever (I was skipping songs on my phone).

Ughh. I'm on a good run of bad luck.

Lessons Learnt This week:

1) When the repo man comes, don't run.
2) Make balance a priority
3) Take a mental health day off, before you're forced to
4) Don't look at your phone while driving- it's dangerous and expensive
5) Tatoos ARE therapeutic
6) Let it go.

I've gone five hundred miles today.I've come a long way,I've come along way,And never even left L.A.
Now you tow it to the repo man's front door,And you give him these keys, I don't need them no more.

A late night letter to no one

I miss my girls. I wish they could feel how much I love them and how much I miss them. I wish they could see how hard im trying to make things right. It's really sad. My heart is broken because I know I broke their hearts. At the old house, the girls and him, atleast they have each other. Meanwhile, I lay awake at night.  I'm thousands of miles away, alone, thinking about the things I can't change, and the moments I wish I could have back.

Becca has been mad at me lately. She hasn't wanted to speak to me. It's heart wrenching. They think I don't care about them. I don't know why they would think that. Maybe I deserve it. I wish I could shrink the distance. I can't. Im trying so hard to understand; to believe she will talk when she's ready. 

Sometimes im too sad to go to work but I can't afford mental health days, so I cry in the back, wipe my tears, then keep going. I've worked 21 days and counting. Maybe more. I've lost track now. For the most part I've become comfortable and happy in my new reality. I know the chaos is only temporary. Sometimes I forget the pain is fleeting. 

I guess you probably don't care and its late but I really miss them. If I could go back and shelter them from the pain I would, but I can't. Late at night, when im alone with my thoughts I think about the times when Becca was only 3. During that time, almost every night, I would scoop her tiny sleeping self up, to sing a whisper song of I-love-you-forever, while she snoozed. It's funny, the things we realize we took for granted, when we wish we could have them back. 

I miss them more than can be put into words. 

I can't believe almost a year has passed now. 

I love you forever, 

I like you for always, 

As long as I'm living

My babies you'll be. 

Xoxoxo 

Mommy 

I'm bad at relationships

Side note. Im bad at relationships. Im also really bad at feelings. Specifically, letting myself feel my feelings. 

I've been noticing a trend in myself throughout the process of my life's evolution; I'm a flighter, not a fighter. When things get complicated, I run. People, places, things, feelings. Everything. RUN. I don't even realize my actions until months, even years, later. 

I suppose this has been one of my most noticeable self observations lately. Coming to terms with my flaws has been really tough. Facing my feelings and my fears. Learning to deal with the things that need to be done instead of brushing them aside and pretending they aren't there, because in my new life I have nobody to rely on but myself. 

I have had to face a lot of things that old-Steph would have ran from. I would have given in to any proposal that meant not going to court. I would have kept a man around for the convenience of avoiding the difficult words. I would have self-medicated with alchohol and situations that didn't serve my personal growth just so I didn't have to feel my true feelings. 

I've made some pretty irrational choices and demonstrated some even worse behaviours over the years. I've cheated, lied, and done a lot of things I can't take back. I was terrified of the choices I knew I had to make so I avoided them. 

This week I said goodbye to an amazing man in my life. He dosent understand it now, because it hurts, but sometines in life we have to walk away people we love so we can learn to love ourselves first. This was one of the most difficult choices I've ever had to make, because a few years ago I would have given anything to be loved by somebody like him. 

Now, I know that I have way too much self work to do before I can truly commit to anybody. 

Now I know how important it is to master the art of aloneness, and letting go, first. 

Xoxoxo 

Steph  

Becca's Birthday; an invitation

This week has been full of lessons. I have been going through some financial complications due to the aftermath of my breakup. I've been trying really hard to budget and take control of my piling debts. Finances are something I never learnt or had to take responsibility for in my old life. Despite my best possible efforts in my new found independence, I will probably be losing a big material item in the near future. Initially, this news enraged me and brought me to my latest 1.5 hour emotional breakdown at work. Thank god for the waxing room; my frequent crying place. After my meltdown I had some time to think and regroup and have come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter. This is the last major item that I have tying me to my old life, and I need to be okay with letting it go. I need to learn to not let my attachment to things have control over my happiness. I didn't want or need it anyways, and I can adapt to life without it. Let go, I just need to let go.

This week was Valentines and I was alone. I kept busy and tried my best to make the most of a mess, like I always do. I sent flowers to my girls; one bouquet which I had delivered to Becca at school, and another which I had delivered to Summer at home. This was way more than I could afford but I tried. I hope they remember the little things, even though I'm far I hope they see how much I miss them. I wish I could have seen their perfect blue eyes light up when they arrived.

 Today is Becca's 8th birthday, and I would have given anything I could to sprout wings so I could be there. I need to let go of the things that are outside of my control. I really need to learn to fucking breathe.  I sent her a package for her birthday with crystals I picked special and charged them in my pocket with all of the love. I believe in the magic, I have to. I have to believe that love and energy is everything. I hope she takes value in the little things. I hope she will see that the little things are actually the big things.

I'm trying to remind myself that one day, when i'm more on my feet, there will be more birthdays, and more memories, and today is just one day. but I will never get back her 8th birthday. I won't be making her a cake like every other year before now; making a big deal out of every little detail so she can have the most perfect party. I won't get to sneak into her room and watch her sleep, even though I know the years of her being small, innocent and full of wonder are slipping away. She's growing so fast. I won't get to be there when she blows out her candles and makes her wishes. I wonder if she wishes for me, and if she does and it doesn't come true, I wonder if she loses faith in dreams and wishes and magic. I'm so fucking scared of my absence making her hard. I'm scared the pain will make her build walls. I'm so scared all the time, I forget to breathe.

The thing about all of my crazy emotions is that none of them are permanent, they roll in and then out (like the ocean waves, my mama would say). That is amazing. Chaos isn't forever. Though I'm not physically there every moment, I wont waste a moment trying to get them back into my arms. Not a moment passes that I'm not sending them all of my love. I hope she learns to let her pain roll in and then out like waves. I hope her pain will not define her.

To my Becca Bear on your 8th Birthday, though you're not reading now, one day you might.

 

The Invitation by Oriah

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for

and if you dare to dreamyou ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know 
if you will risk 
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are 
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you 
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know 
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone 
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

 

Egg-shelled and star crossed- A Valentines Story.

Once, before I knew what it felt like to be hurt, I liked feeling vulnerable. I used to do everything for him. I wanted a family. I wanted a home. I had this idea in my head that if I kept holding on as tight as I could, everything would be okay. I tried my best to sweep our growing pain and problems under the rug, for the sake of my beautiful little dream. The problems grew anyways.

I knew we weren't perfect, but I tried anyways. I played my part. Despite my dedication, I always got hurt anyways. Back then, I had so much respect for him. I didn't air his dirty laundry for everyone to see. I kept my pain, and I locked it away. The only problem with that, is that pain changes you.

I used to sit by the window and wait for him to come home. My excitement at his arrival was too much for his exhaustion. I got used to rejection. Over time we avoided each other. Once upon a time I felt enraged by his lies. I'd scream and demand to know his whereabouts. Women always know when something isn't right. Lie after lie, I learnt to forgive and forget.

Why didn't he want to be home with me. What the fuck is so wrong with me that would make him hate being home so much. My insecurities grew. I swept those under the rug too, with the pain and the problems and the bullshit. I loved him anyways. I learnt to tip toe. Walking on egg shells became an art.

Somewhere amidst the sweeping, and egg shell walking, I got tired. Tired of not being good enough. Tired of getting hurt. Tired of living for someone who cared more about money made than time spent. At some point I cried every fucking tear that I had. I gave every fucking piece of myself that there was nothing left for him. To say he's completely to blame wouldn't be true. I let go of my beautiful little dream.

I decided if anybody was to get hurt again, it wouldn't be me.
If anybody was going to stay up and worry, it wouldn't be me.

If he taught me anything at all, he taught me how to lie. How to put on a smile and sweep the secrets under the rug. "It's okay to lie if nobody gets hurt"- he'd say.

It was at this crossroads; of losing my vulnerability and finding my carelessness, that I fell in love.

Only it wasn't with him.

The thing about love, at least the kind I found, is that it has no discretion. It doesn't grow slowly, it swells inside you, at the most inconvenient of times, with often the most unimaginable person. Love doesn't care about the rules. It makes you forget about the rules. Love makes you forget about everybody else, and in a room full of the others, you only see him.

It teaches you that maybe, after all the pain, you are good enough; at least behind closed doors.
It teaches you that on late nights when you feel alone, he's feeling alone too. A love like this teaches you that you're never really alone, because somewhere out there, he's lonely for you too. It teaches you that nothing matters, except time spent. A love like this reminds you that your heart still pounds. Passion still exists. It reminds you that nothing matters but staying up late to talk about every worry, every dream, and everything in between. A love like this has a way of shaking up your whole world, and realize that all this time you were chasing the wrong dream.

A man like this teaches you that you are no longer to be taken for granted; that you are beautiful, amazing and strong.That no matter where you are and who you're with, somebody has seen you for
all that you are.

I am so lucky to have had 3 great loves in my young life, for all that they were, and all that they are.

Young love, which taught me what love is NOT, and about letting go.
Star crossed love, which taught me what love IS and how to chase it.
and Present love, which is still teaching me everyday.

Happy Valentines Day to all of my loves. 

xoxoxo

You won't be 26 forever.

Lately I have been doing a lot of 'soul' work. I concluded my last post by saying that 2015 was about losing myself, and that 2016 was about finding myself. I've got a lot going on in my life and in my mind. I've been meticulously practising balance; sleep, work, legal/life obligations, and yoga. On any given day I usually get up at 6 am so I can wake up slowly and enjoy my morning coffee, get ready for work, leave by 8:30 am, work until 5 pm, try to talk to my girls on route, straight to yoga, try to call again, home by 7 pm, eat, sleep, repeat. I've officially worked at my job for 6 months, and I actually really like working. It feels good to be learning my strength and independence despite it's struggles. It is definitely hard to stay on top of my finances. I've made a lot of changes and sacrifices that I've never had to before. I want to learn mindfulness.

Short definition.

"Mindfulness is a state of active, open attention on the present. When you're mindful, you observe your thoughts and feelings from a distance, without judging them good or bad. Instead of letting your life pass you by, mindfulness means living in the moment and awakening to experience."

This is more challenging than I originally thought. This means being mindful in all areas of my life. In fact...it's come to my attention that the old me was pretty much the polar opposite of mindful. I have a way of letting my emotions take control of me. I've been coming to the steady realization that my inability to keep my emotions under control, and be present, are a big part of how I got to where I am. What I mean by this is that if I had been able to take a step back and observe the things that were unfolding around me, and take them as they were, maybe I could have saved myself a lot of suffering. Maybe I could have stopped myself from filling voids with stuff we couldn't afford. Spending time on things that weren't important. I could have walked away when I knew the way I was living, wasn't working anymore. I was so driven by my fear of change. I let my life become poison. I accept I can't  change any of that.

I will miss Becca's birthday. I will likely miss Easter. They get bigger everyday. I'm missing fleeting moments, and it's outside of my control. I want to learn to be happy regardless of any possible outcomes in life. Breathe. I just need to breathe, let my emotions roll in and out. Let them go. I spent so much time taking things for granted. I took the present for granted. No more.

I will get up and embrace every fucking chance I get to make the present count. The present is what I have. My lawyer said it best; "You won't be 26 forever."

It's okay to be scared, it's not okay to live in fear.

xoxoxo
Steph

2015 in Review

In 2015 my life exploded in my face. As far as breakups go, mine, in classic Steph-Style, was about as difficult as could possibly be. I'm discovering through this journey that I have a knack for being unconventional. I'd like to say I didn't know I wasn't going back, but in hindsight maybe I knew somewhere deep down that I was never going home.

I've been thinking a lot about what it felt like to have a home. To have a family- a bed, a coffee maker, kids, dogs, cats; comfort. Despite the messiness of my difficult ('old') life, these things were still home to me. One day I had a home, and the next, I didn't. I don't really know how to put the pain into words. I'm sure this has been the most difficult and transformative experiences of my life. My life, as I knew it, died. For the past 9 months I have been experiencing grief in many, many, many bizarre stages. 

In my 'old' life I never really worked 'real' jobs. All I really knew was being a mom. I made a lot of mistakes in my personal life, but, despite all of the storms I created, I always held my ground as a mother. I got up everyday and tried as hard as I could to balance being a young mom. I tried to balance housework, dance, gymnastics, my broken relationship, and myself. I made their meals, wiped their tears and was there every moment. In a blink that was over.

I never got closure. I never said a proper goodbye. I left everything. My home, and everything in it. I never packed my things properly in peace. I knew it was over but I didn't know that was the last time we would all be together. I didn't get closure. That's strange, and sad.

It terrifies me to think of the affect this experience has had on me, a strong adult, and how it must have affected their developing hearts. I broke their hearts. I know I did. It's excrutuating. 

In my new life  I work full-time, for almost minimum wage. I never had to worry about bills, now I do. I had the girls. I could kiss and hug them whenever I wanted. Now I can't. I'm almost 27 years old and i'm starting over as if I was only 18. Some days I feel like I'm going backwards. That's my new reality. I was spoiled in my old life. I had nice things and I got what I wanted. Cars, clothes, furniture. I had many luxuries. I took advantage of these luxuries and never really felt fulfilled by them.

The first 6 months in my new life were shock and denial. I brushed things under the rug, and ran from my growing problems and responsibilities in numerous unhealthy ways.I smoked. I forgot about fitness. I lost myself. After this phase of grief, came drowning in tears; which went on for 3 months straight. I cried myself to sleep. At work. At yoga. Here, there, everywhere. The strange thing about the crying phase was that in between the tears I started to find little bits of happy. Over time, i've learnt to hold onto the happy, longer and longer. I still cry more than I'm used to, but now I find solace in many little things I didn't appreciate before.

I appreciate the small luxuries I can still afford, because I have less. I've come to terms with having less, and am content with what I do have. I survived losing my whole world, so I have no more to lose. It's strange and freeing. I appreciate my new home, which is starting to feel more like home everyday. I appreciate when the rain finally breaks, and the sun shines through, and the pavement is clear (no snow). I appreciate coffee. I appreciate my job despite the pay, I get to be surrounded by beautiful strong women who pick me up more than they even know, everyday. I don't worry about things out of my control. I appreciate feeling what it's supposed to feel like to be loved unconditionally for the first time in my life. I appreciate how good it feels to be moving from grief and into peace and acceptance of what is.

2015 was loss. 2016 is finding.

Finding my health again.
Finding my strength again (mind & body).
Finding my passion again.
Finding my place in the girls lives.
Finding unconditional love.
Finding laughter after many tears.
Finding peace.
Finding acceptance
Finding forgiveness.

xoxoxo
Steph

Under Construction

Recently I announced that my Facebook page would be renamed, and so naturally my blog was to follow.

Over the past year, everything in my life has changed. I lost everything, and found even more. Through these big changes I have been forced to re-evaluate my values and beliefs. It became very apparent that 'Skinny Pants Fitness' was a title no longer in alignment with my personal beliefs along my journey.

So excited to continue to share and inspire health and fitness on a more genuine level!

Here's to love and laughter, bending but not breaking, and finding myself after losing it all.

My site will be experiencing some technical difficulties and broken links as I tweak things to work for the new domain. Thank you to all my friends and followers for your continued love and support! 

Namaste.
xoxoxo
Steph