Children just keep getting older. And with that age comes more questions. Some of the questions are difficult to answer, like my son asking me about my parents.
He’s going to be seven in 3 months. It’s only natural that after being exposed to his grandparents on his father’s side and the other family on that side that he’d wonder about mine. He’s asked before, but I’ve managed to successfully dodge answering it.
Simply telling him that I do not have parents seems to have worked so far. He asks about my grandparents and to that question I will reply. But I have no parents.
No parents worth talking about.
Why tell my young child about the man who comes in and out of my life like a ghost? The one who I have made the decision to disconnect from because it caused me too much heartache to watch him father other children? He has not been a father to me for longer than he has been a father. He has a new family now and I want to be happy for him and support him. I fear that my constant need for validation would only cause him pain, so to him I have bid good-bye.
Why tell him about the woman who teeters dangerously on the edge of sanity? The woman who had been a great mother until something inside her snapped and everything disintegrated around us? This is not a person who would be a good role model for him: she has nothing to teach him. From her mouth spew lies and suffering. I will not subject him to that.
So I tell my child that I was born from a tree, like most nuts. He’s too young to quite understand how that is funny but it seems to satisfy him when he asks.
I want to tell him of my family; of his heritage. How his great-grandparents grew up in British ruled India and went to boarding school. How we are Anglo-Indian and that’s why we look so white. Of the reason his mother loves rice and parathas. How his grandparents flew from India to England, and then took a boat from England to Canada. How his great-grandparents on the paternal side of me weren’t really in the picture, but seemed to have an awkward kindness about them. How disconnected I have always been from that side of my life. How he has an uncle who would probably spoil him to pieces although that uncle probably doesn’t even know he exists because of poor decisions on everyone’s part.
These things I can tell him once he grows; once he is ready to listen and perhaps understand.
I am constantly looking for validation for my existence: for me to be where I am. I have lived a life where my existence was not wanted by those who should want it. By those who worked to create it.
And so I was denied.
Because I lack confidence I don’t do too much to stand out. I think my loud voice and over-boisterous behaviour tries to compensate for the fact that I am small inside.
I have recently made a big change to my hair. This may seem like a small, trivial thing to some. For me, it is a big deal. It’s not complete quite yet, as there is still another colour treatment to go through, but it is still far different than anything I have done in a very, very long time. I’m talking at least a decade.
So I’m a bit nervous and excited all in one to have it done. It’s not something I can really hide, like my tattoos. It’s out there and it’s what people will recognize me by.
This proves to be an interesting time. The true challenge lies in how long I will keep it up until I just colour it back to brown and go about like I always do.
For now, I will take solace in the fact that the biggest reaction I received was the BSP saying, quite loudly mind you, “Who ARE you?!”
Today’s post is in honour of Bell’s Let’s Talk initiative they have here in Canada. For today, January 25, 2017, Bell will donate ¢5 for every tweet and retweet with the hashtag #BellLetsTalk to mental health initiatives. This is a big deal for a lot of people and it helps open the dialogue about mental health. My post today is going to focus on that, but I don’t want people to feel like they’re reading something they’re not ready for, or don’t want. So keep reading if you want, but I won’t be offended if you don’t.
This weekend had me a little down in the dumps. If you follow me on Twitter you may have noticed my strange narrative as I navigated the mall in my small town to buy pants.
Here’s some back story:
I wear the same two pairs of pants in rotation all the time. I will sometimes wear leggings and in the summer I have different pants and dresses I will wear. I live in Canada, where it’s freaking cold the majority of the time.
I had groceries to buy and my usual pants were both in the bin for washing.
Both. Of. Them.
Since it’s January, no matter how unseasonably warm it’s been, I needed to find another pair of pants to wear to the store. I have sweatpants but I’ve been trying really hard not to look like a bum when I go out. I more than often run into someone I know, someone I used to teach or people I work with at the store. So I didn’t want to look like a total slob.
I looked in my closet and found a pair of jeans I didn’t even know I had.
They did not fit.
I’m talking like, I couldn’t get them passed my thighs didn’t fit.
So I threw those in the ever-growing pile of clothes to be donated.
I found another pair and tried them on. Same result. Tossed.
Then I found 2 pairs of jeans my dayhome lady had given me. Now, these I could get past my thighs, but I could not do up the button.
Now I’m in a pickle. All I have left are dress pants.
I found a pair, put them on, and they fit just enough that I could go to the store and buy food for my family.
After I got home my husband had to take our dog to a lesson (she’s developing bad habits) and was home in time for lunch. Since I’m in a crappy mood from not fitting pants he tells me to go shopping.
So I shower, throw on a pair of leggings, and off I go!
In the end I successfully found 2 pairs of pants and quite a few shirts to make me happy. I had to call my shopping trip short because my husband texted me that he wasn’t feeling well. He ended up throwing up for the rest of the day.
But I found clothes!
Now I’m trying to kick my ass to work out more. It’s not like I am not thin, because I know I am. But I am not satisfied with the love handles and the pouch where my gut is.
Just now I downloaded two apps: Burn Your Fat With Me For Girls and 30 Day Fitness Challenge.
The first one is a fitness/dating sim type app using a character drawn in the anime style. It’s totally in English so I am excited to try this one! The other one I plan to start on Feb 1st and kick my ass. I just downloaded them so I’m not exactly sure how they’ll work. It’s a start. I also need to stop eating potato chips like Armageddon is coming but baby steps, right?