SheLoves Magazine

Small Screen Confessions and Learning to Love the Big Picture

How could I encourage my clients to embrace their uniquenesses when I kept the fact that I taped Gilmore Girls every day hidden like a dirty little secret between me and my VCR?

By Stefanie Thomas | Twitter: @stefanie_nicole

I love TV. More specifically, I love watching good TV shows. Now, I know that what’s good to me might make you cringe or yawn, or change the channel, but crying over an episode of Parenthood is as satisfying for me as laughing until I cry at the hilarious 30 Rock or Parks and Recreation. And I have two seasons of The Good Wife on DVD to thank for helping me get through a nasty bout of pneumonia this past Fall.

What I love about TV is that it can be what we want, when we need it. It can be light and amusing or meaty and compelling. It can make us laugh, dance and remember to be kind to one another. (Thanks, Ellen!) It can teach us, make us feel connected and inspire aha! moments. (Thanks, Oprah!) Maybe it gives us a chance to put our inner detective to work while trying to solve a crime show mystery. (“I knew it was that guy! Those beady eyes were not to be trusted!”) Or maybe a touching moment onscreen allows us to tap into some buried emotion, facilitating catharsis. (“Uh, why is my face wet? Oh, I’m sobbing. I guess I needed that.”) Quirky new shows (New Girl, anyone?) offer fresh appeal, while reruns of an old standby can bring nostalgic warm fuzzies. (You can come and knock on my door any time, Jack Tripper!)

Unwind

Perhaps you’re with me when I say that after a challenging day, unwinding with a sitcom can be just what the doctor ordered. Case in point: After doing intense trauma counseling today at work, it was a delight to come home and guffaw my way through The Big Bang Theory. (I heart you, Sheldon Cooper.) Other times, getting wrapped up in a good drama is the best medicine, especially when the show’s emotional crescendo is cradled by just the right song. Chord struck, heartstrings pulled, it’s a beautiful thing.

You, dear readers, might wonder “Why is she writing about TV? She usually writes about relationships, and she hasn’t mentioned her Grandma Dot once!”

Family History

Let me back up and mention that I come by my love of TV honestly. My entire family appreciates the tube, and I know exactly which shows my parents and siblings like to watch. My younger sister writes a weekly recap of American Idol which entertains me to no end, and my older sister and I like to compare notes on our shared favourite dramas. One of my awesome aunties often starts our phone calls with “So what did you think of The Bachelor?!” And last year when I went to stay with my hilarious almost-80-year-old great-aunt, she made me watch Breaking Bad with her, saying “Oh, it’s a real corker!” But I can’t think of anyone who enjoyed watching TV more than my dear Grandma Dot. (There she is!) She’s been gone for almost 12 years, but the image of her nestled into her corner of the couch watching one of her favourite shows is as clear in my mind as if I’d just seen it yesterday.

When I was a kid and slept over at my grandparents’ house, Grandma would let me stay up late and watch TV with her. I’d crawl into the king-sized bed between her and my Grandpa and, propped up on a mountain of pillows, we’d set sail on The Love Boat. In no time, Grandpa would be fast asleep, but Grandma and I would enjoy every minute of high drama on the high seas. And then–here’s the exciting part–we would watch Fantasy Island. I’m sure much of it went over my head (I was six years old, after all), but what made this late-night viewing so special to me was that it was something we did together. I may not recall anything about the episodes we watched, but I remember exactly how it felt to be tucked in between Grandma and Grandpa under their heavy royal blue bedspread, the glow from the TV our only light. There was something thrilling about having Grandma all to myself and being allowed to stay up late watching these grown-up shows with her. When our shows were over, we’d roll onto our tummies and stare out the window, admiring the twinkling lights of the city that seemed to sprawl out forever beneath their hilltop home.

Cable Company

Whether we’re escaping to another world or relating to another world, the small screen can have a big impact. Some days, TV itself may be the only company we want, and other times, we can’t wait to tune in alongside our loved ones. There’s one deliciously nerve-wracking show that my sisters and I only watch if we’re together. It’s fun to experience a collective cringe as our unlikely hero narrowly escapes getting caught (yet again), and my killer (pun intended) imitation of the show’s high-pitched theme music always brings comic relief. But to me the best part is having this carved out pocket of time to spend with my sisters. Dexter may bring us together, but he often takes a back seat to our catching up, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

But I guess here’s the real reason I’m writing about TV. If my posts for SheLoves Magazine are about relationships, this one can be filed under: Relationship with Self.

Judging Myself 

It’s true, I grew up loving television, but somewhere along the way I started to judge this love, to think that there was something less-than about being a fan of the tube. Perhaps it was that I started to encounter more and more people who said things like “I don’t have cable. I’ve got better things to do than watch TV.” I began to feel embarrassed that I enjoyed something that others deemed a mindless waste of time. Suddenly I felt sheepish that in my spare time I might rather tune in to a favourite show than read up on current events or run a marathon.

I counsel a lot of young adults, and I regularly encourage them to be themselves. Many who grace the chair across from me judge themselves harshly, making endless comparisons to others who seem to be doing more, or being better. They feel ashamed of who they are and how they like to spend their time. When their self-rejection rears its ugly head, I reach for my imaginary pom-poms and cheer “You are awesome! Your love of comic books (or horses, or video games, or making spreadsheets just for fun) is a big part of what makes you YOU. Claim it! Embrace it!”

Few things make my heart happier than seeing others start to own who they are, to allow themselves to do what they love and to love what they love. So how could I encourage my clients in this when I kept the fact that I taped Gilmore Girls every day hidden like a dirty little secret between me and my VCR?

One of the perks of my job is that what I’m preaching to my dear clients lands on my ears and sinks into my heart, too. If I’m going to honour the unique interests of others, I should honour my own, too.

It’s a work in progress, but I’m learning to love what I love, to appreciate and celebrate what makes me ME. So, here I am, waving my imaginary pom-poms as I say it again, loud and proud: I love TV!

____________________________

About Stefanie:

Stefanie is a Registered Clinical Counsellor living in Vancouver, BC. She feels blessed to work in a helping profession and is grateful that her work requires her to show up not in a power suit but with listening ears and a compassionate heart. Stefanie enjoys spending time with family and friends and has never met a kid or baby she doesn’t like. She is a noticer and appreciator of birds (chickadees, herons, eagles) and many a beach rock has come home in her pocket. Stefanie is a lover of music, tv and movies, and she is gifted at absorbing and retaining useless pop culture trivia. She loves walking, fresh air, the smell of dirt, and anything of the salt and vinegar persuasion. She can often be found puttering.

There’s No Friend Like a Sister

“To me, sisterhood isn’t so much about bloodlines as it is about heartlines. Whether related or not, life is just better when we have sisters by our side.”

By Stefanie Thomas | Twitter: @stefanie_nicole

“There are a lot of women in my family.” I’ve said that before–in one of my previous SheLoves posts. To hone in a little today: there are a lot of sisters in my family.

If my extended family were a movie, it would be Sister Act.
If we were a disco band, we’d be Sister Sledge.

You get the picture. This last example is especially fitting, for on many occasions my sisters and I have been lured onto the dance floor by their 70’s anthem: “We are family … I’ve got all my sisters with me.”

“Sister” is one of my favourite words.

I was born the middle of three girls. When I came along, my older sister was almost three, and my younger sister followed me by two years.

In the Middle

When people hear I’m the middle child, their reaction is commonly tinged with pity. If their mouth doesn’t say it, their eyes do: “You poor, overlooked, had-to-fight-for-attention soul.” When I meet other middle children, they often nod and flash me a knowing look that suggests we’re part of the same hard-done-by club. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised by these reactions. I mean, did you know there’s actually something called Middle Child Syndrome? It’s a syndrome, people!

But I have to say I have a different perspective on what it’s like to be the middle child. Sure, I can imagine it would have been nice to bask in my parents’ undivided attention a little more often than I did. There were times growing up when it felt unfair that my sisters got away with stuff I couldn’t – one because she was The Oldest and one because she was The Baby. But overall, I’ve always felt lucky to be in the middle.

At times when the five-year gap between my sisters made it hard for them to relate to one another, I could identify with both of them. One minute I’d be sitting cross-legged on my older sister’s bed, watching her crimp her hair and put on make-up as she got ready to go to Bumpers teen dance club. We’d listen to music (she and her Cool New Wave friends made Cool New Wave mixed tapes, which, in typical kid sister fashion, I coveted) and she’d tell me which cute boys she was hoping to see that night. The next minute I’d be making up dance routines in the living room with my younger sister, or reading Archie comics together while waiting for “Charles in Charge” to start.

As a kid, I didn’t give much thought to whether or not I wanted to spend time with my sisters. We shared the same parents, houses, schools and vacations, so it was pretty much a given that we’d be together a lot. But as we grew up, our relationships grew up too. Thankfully, the days of fighting over who got to sit in the front seat or wear the shared long peach blouse from Dalmys came to an end. I started to want to hang out with my sisters. As we grew up, my sisters became my friends.

Shared Story

There is nothing quite like sharing a history with someone. And no one has shared more of my life experiences than my sisters. We’ve developed a kind of memory short-hand. No one else would remember the sound our roller skates made whirring over the low-pile family room carpet as we zipped around listening to Supertramp. Few others would link the sweet summer smell of Osoyoos with memories of waterfights and crib games at the annual Father-Daughter weekend at Walt Scott’s cabin on the lake. Only my sisters and I would know what it was like to be a kid in our house on Christmas morning the year our soundtrack wasn’t Nat King Cole but Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life.

My sisters and I have been blessed with a great family, and over the years we’ve shared many joyful times. We have fun together. In addition to being smart and beautiful (inside and out), my sisters are hilariously funny. The giggle fits that can ignite when the three of us get together are of epic proportions.

Together

And when life has been hard, we’ve faced it together. After a hospital visit to see our dear Grandma Dot one night, when we knew that she likely didn’t have much time left, none of us wanted to go home alone. We decided to have a sleepover, dragging mattresses for the three of us onto the living room floor so that not even a wall would separate us. When the phone rang at 5am and we were told that Grandma had taken her last breath, it was a comfort to be together in our sorrow.

When the news that our parents were splitting up sent us reeling, we banded together and became a support group of three. I still clearly recall having coffee together in White Rock on one of those rocky, tearful mornings when it felt like our world had been tipped upside down and would never be righted. My younger sister said with gravity and conviction: “No matter what, we will always have each other.”

It makes me cry to write these words now. Yes, that was a rough time, but I’m glad to report that my family did eventually right itself and saw the addition of great step-parents and step-siblings. My tears are more inspired by the sentiment behind my sister’s words. It is profoundly moving to know that as we travel on the bumpy road of life, with its glorious highs and its heartbreaking lows, my sisters and I have each other.

Heartlines

I recognize that not everyone has a sister, and that not all sisters are close. Sometimes the connection we share with our friends makes them feel even closer than family, like sisters we got to hand-pick for ourselves. To me, sisterhood isn’t so much about bloodlines as it is about heartlines. Whether related or not, life is just better when we have sisters by our side.

Back in my English Literature days at university, I wrote a paper on Christina Rossetti’s narrative poem Goblin Market. She ended that piece with these words, which, over 150 years later, still pack a punch:

“For there is no friend like a sister
In calm or stormy weather;
To cheer one on the tedious way,
To fetch one if one goes astray,
To lift one if one totters down,
To strengthen whilst one stands.”

There really is no friend like a sister. When God gave me sisters, he blessed me with built-in best friends.

_____________________________________

About Stefanie:

Stefanie is a Registered Clinical Counsellor living in Vancouver, BC. She feels blessed to work in a helping profession and is grateful that her work requires her to show up not in a power suit but with listening ears and a compassionate heart. Stefanie enjoys spending time with family and friends and has never met a kid or baby she doesn’t like. She is a noticer and appreciator of birds (chickadees, herons, eagles) and many a beach rock has come home in her pocket. Stefanie is a lover of music, tv and movies, and she is gifted at absorbing and retaining useless pop culture trivia. She loves walking, fresh air, the smell of dirt, and anything of the salt and vinegar persuasion. She can often be found puttering.

Wellness Wednesday: Making Big Things Happen

By Amelia Englemark | Twitter: @AmyEnglemark

“In the blink of an eye, my day, week or month is over and I’m sometimes left wondering, What was I working towards? Did I make any progress?”

Before I had kids, I was more spontaneous and spent much less time planning out what would happen in my future. I had goals and ideas of what I wanted to include in my life, but all in all, it was pretty laid back. Planning ahead felt regimented and less fun.

Now that I’m a mother, I actually see and experience the advantages of planning ahead. When I’m planning my day or week, I make certain things a priority. Instead of simply wanting to see people, go places, get work done, I now take a more proactive stance and make sure those things happen. Why?  Time can easily pass me by. In the blink of an eye my day, week or month is over and I’m sometimes left wondering, “What was I working towards?” “Did I make any progress?”

Setting priorities

Over time I am developing a system that allows me to identify and focus on my priorities:

Relationships – taking time to nurture family relationships and friendships.

Proactive work – focusing on staying in touch with the important contacts I have made, instead of dealing with daily emails or continually checking Facebook.

High impact goals – creating goals that will pay a big profit later, such as laying off large amounts of sugar in my diet, which will ultimately lead to long-term health and increased confidence.

Learning - reading the latest journal in my field for half an hour before bed instead of watching the most recent episode of a TV series I’m following.

Renewal – spending more time taking my kids out to ride the BMX track or going for a fun date with my husband.

In order to create a great future for myself, I need to take charge of my life. That means knowing myself and becoming fully involved in activities (or rest) that will enable me to blossom. When I make time to do the important things, I feel refreshed and much more able to tackle the items on my list that require more energy. When a crisis or unexpected event comes up, I am more prepared to handle it if I’ve made time for what matters.

When you take the time to think about it, you’ll know exactly what you need to dedicate more time to.

Working in tandem

In saying all of this, I know deep down that it’s not by my strength or my power that things are accomplished. Yes, I put forth the effort; I take the time to focus on my objective and push forward, but I am working in partnership with a special Someone, if you know what I mean—nudge-nudge, wink-wink. A Greater Force makes “light bulbs” turn on at just the right time.

Just when I wonder, “How will I ever be able to complete this task?”  I am given the energy I need.  Sometimes I really want to reach a certain goal but I don’t know what the next step is—then the light bulb goes on as an idea is dropped into my hands.

Stepping away from comfort

My path to being more organized and having more life balance has been interesting. This is not to say I have arrived at any particular destination. It’s more so felt like the path less travelled, because it hasn’t come naturally. With a little effort and forethought, I can now determine what my priorities are and make sure that what I’m focusing on is what is valuable to me. In order to accomplish goals that will fast forward my progress, I have had to assert myself more than I used to.

“Let others lead small lives, but not you. Let others leave their future in someone else’s hands, but not you.” – Jim Rohn

Five-minute challenge

I challenge you to take five minutes to sit down with a journal or daily planner and answer the following questions—hopefully they will bring you clarity and motivation. Put your answers somewhere where you will see them and be reminded of what you are capable of.

1. What is YOUR proactive work? If you don’t know, how will you find out? How will you get to know yourself and perhaps try walking down a new avenue?

2. How would it make you feel to do the creative, proactive work in your life that will change the world? This is possible you know!

3. How would you feel if you started to put first things first? Would you feel more in control? At peace? Energized?

4. What would happen if you focused on getting the right things done, instead of just getting things done? What type of extraordinary life could you create?

______________________

About Amy:

I am thankful for passion in my career and relationships and want others to enjoy the same. I am a Certified Professional Career and Life Coach and I empower executives and entrepreneurs to find and pursue their career passion. You can get to know me at www.amyenglemark.com.

I love hiking, mountain biking, travelling and any sort of adventure. I like to jump from the highest rock into the deepest water. I like to shout for joy.

Home is Where the Heart is and A Little Boy Belongs

RELATE WITH HELEN

“We are to him, along with many others, a shelter, a dwelling place, a refuge.”

By Helen Burns | Twitter: @helenburns

Several weeks ago I was visiting my daughter Danica, who along with her family, lives really close to the neighbourhood I grew up in. After leaving her place, I had an irresistible urge to take a little drive to the places where all my earliest childhood memories were formed.

It began with a drive past Killarney High School where I spent five years of my life … the place where I sang in the choir, was class president and cheerleader, and met John when I was in Grade Ten. I smiled as I passed the spot where I remember one of our first kisses and noted the spot where he always parked the pick-up truck he drove to school.

Memory Lane

Then I drove down Killarney Street to 43^rd Avenue, where I lived from Grade seven to 12. I saw they had painted our home from pale green to bright yellow. As I headed west down 41^st Avenue to 5634 Sherbrooke Street–I think I will remember my first address and phone number for as long as I live–I noticed the bus stop I used to take to the shops or church, was still in the exact same spot.

Soon I came upon Sir Alexander MacKenzie Elementary School, which still looked the same as it did when I was so young. The entrances were still clearly marked “BOYS” and “GIRLS,” which surprised me. I would imagine that either gender may use those entrances today, but in my elementary school days I was only allowed to play in the girls’ playground and use the girls’ entrance.

Then I stopped by the church where I grew up, where the songs and sermons were all in German. I most vividly remember Christmas pageants, my Sunday School teachers, memory verses and 25 cents in my hand for the offering.

As I drove through my personal memory lane I realized how much these places still felt like “home” to me … they all gave me a sense of belonging and filled me with a sense of identity.

Home is forever the place that represents our most intimate social environment. It may change with the seasons, but it is always “home.” It is where we began the vital process of socializing as young children and it hopefully prepares us to not only survive, but thrive in the world outside its doors.

The dictionary defines “home” as:

 A shelter – the place in which one’s domestic affections are centered.

A dwelling place – the place or region where something is native or most common.

A refuge - a heavenly home, a person’s native place or own country.

Every person carries a deep longing in their hearts and an image in their minds of the ideal place–a place to call and feel at home, the place where we have a true sense of belonging and identity.

While home should always feel safe, peaceful and secure, sadly for many it represents the opposite.

So, how can we play a part in creating “home,” shelter and safety for all? I believe it begins in the security and strength of healthy relationships. You can find home in your friends and family where you experience the strength and beauty of togetherness. Friends and families are designed to transcend building structures and embody HOME in the truest sense. It takes hands, bricks and mortar to build a house, but only hearts can build a home. Yes: Home is where the heart is.

“I’m here!”

One of my most delicious pictures of “home” was etched on my heart recently as my youngest grandson, Jack, came bounding through the doors of our house. He announced his arrival at the top of his lungs, declaring: “I’m here!”

He had the biggest smile on his face and knew everyone would come running to see him and be ecstatic that he had arrived. I know Jack loves coming to our house, but much more importantly, he knows he is completely adored and celebrated, because he is “home.” We are to him, along with many others, a shelter, a dwelling place, a refuge.

We can through our love connect his heart to his truest home–to the One who is perfect in every way and is even now preparing a home for all of us. His name is God, who is our Father. Jesus, who is our friend and Holy Spirit, who is our Comforter.

Home also prepares us for eternity …

Home – that blessed word, which opens to the human heart the most perfect glimpse of Heaven, and helps to carry it thither, as on an angel’s wings. - Lydia M. Child 

Ephesisans 2:19-22 says: ” … that’s plain enough, isn’t it? You’re no longer wandering exiles. This kingdom of faith is now your home country. You’re no longer strangers or outsiders. You belong here, with as much right to the name Christian as anyone. God is building a home. He’s using us all—irrespective of how we got here—in what he is building. He used the apostles and prophets for the foundation. Now he’s using you, fitting you in brick by brick, stone by stone, with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone that holds all the parts together. We see it taking shape day after day—a holy temple built by God, all of us built into it, a temple in which God is quite at home.”  The Message

_____________________________

My dear SheLoves friends, I’d love to hear:

• Where or what is “home” for you?
• What does “home” represent to you?
• Do you have a clear memory of a time when you knew you were “home”?

_______________________________

About Helen:

Helen Burns and her husband, John, speak around the world on the topic of relationships. They host the popular TV show “Relate with John and Helen.”

The Six Degrees of Long-Distance Relationships (LDRs) and other Separations

“If I feel like God is far away—He’s not the one who moved.”

By Ashley Mandanici | Twitter: @ashleymandanici

Have you ever been in any kind of long-distance relationship? Not just the romantic kind.

I have, and I cannot say I “rock” at maintaining them, nor do I enjoy the distance.

Here’s a quick glance at how many long-distance relationships (romantic and otherwise) I have had in the past or am currently maintaining:

• My best friend has been in Indiana for several years completing her Master’s degree.
• I was in a rather serious relationship with a gentleman caller for about two years (on again, off again, courtesy of our long distance situation).
• I have just one family member who lives within a healthy proximity to me. Otherwise, my brother, sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins span from Kelowna to California to Ohio.
• Finally, as much as I enjoy the cultural diversity of my social group, I have dear friends scattered like dandelion seeds across countries and continents.

Needless to say, phone calls, text messages, e-mails, Skype dates, Facebook and Facetime have all become rather dear to me. But I find even with all of these modes of communication, I am still left with a devastating amount of space between us that, despite my best efforts, words cannot fill.

Six Degrees of (Long-Distance) Separation

I have noticed that whether it’s a boyfriend, a friend or a family member, the emotions that accompany a long-distance relationship are often similar. The following is a list of emotions I have experienced whilst engaged in a Long-Distance Relationship or “LDR”:

•  Anticipation/ Excitement: This emotion is typical when the times I have seen or heard from the person supersede the time we have been apart.

• Frustration: Frustration rears its ugly head after enough time has passed so I know the other person surely has a new story or anecdote to share, but I have yet to hear about it.

• Denial:  Possibly spurred on by things like Destiny’s Child songs about women and their independence, at this stage in the LDR a reassurance falls over me that I need no one!

• Hopelessness: When the times we have been apart supersedes the time in which we have been together, I begin doubting the validity of my relationship.

• Anger: Perhaps my LDR updated her Facebook status and didn’t as much as poke me. Or maybe he had a whole day off and did not make any effort to call. Whether my reasoning is justified or completely unwarranted, feelings of anger in a long-distance relationship are undeniable.

• Joy: The very sound of his voice brings a tidal wave of relief and all the emotions you once felt, are swept away with pure joy.

[ Lather, rinse, and repeat.]

Regardless of the different kinds of long distance relationships we may experience, I’m sure this truth remains: Being devoted to someone we cannot see, is hard.

Degrees of separation with God

“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.” ~Kahlil Gibran

As I looked at this list of LDR-related emotions, I began to draw some parallels between my human long-distance relationships and my relationship with God. I realized that just as I have felt all of the six (long distance) degrees of separation with my friends, family and romances; I have also felt these emotions towards God. The anticipation and excitement as I wait on His call, the denial in thinking I don’t need Him, the hopelessness I feel when I don’t hear His voice, the anger when everyone else gets a “poke” but me, and the sheer joy of finally hearing His voice.

But in all of the parallels I have drawn, I discovered one major contrast: With God, absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder; it makes my heart grow further.

“Draw near to me, and I will draw near to you.” James 4:8 (NIV)

God isn’t awkwardly fumbling around trying to maintain seven billion long-distance relationships—on the contrary, we are the ones who choose how close our relationship with God will be. Which reminds me that if I feel like God is far away—He’s not the one who moved.

“I will never leave you; I will never forget you.” Hebrews 13:5 (International Children’s Version)

_____________________________

How about you:

• How many long-distance relationships are you maintaining?
• What feelings do you struggle with in LDRs with people?
• Have you ever felt distanced from God and why?
• Do you believe that closeness in our relationship with God can be influenced by our own initiative?

_____________________________

 About Ashley:

My name is Ashley and I am the Children’s Ministry Coordinator at Relate Church in Surrey, B.C. My mission is to develop the God-given potential in every child who crosses my path *Insert Whitney Houston’s “Greatest Love of All” here*. I love all things jazzy, particularly music, and I tend to break into song throughout the day for no apparent reason. I blog here and tweet @AshleyMandanici

Love Letter to Two Strangers

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, you might guess I’d write about warm fuzzy feelings for those nearest and dearest. Well, you’d be half right …

By Stefanie Thomas | Twitter: @stefanie_nicole

I consider myself to be a fairly observant person (I like to think I would make a good detective), but I find it’s all too easy to go through my day without really seeing the people I cross paths with. I mean, I see them, but I don’t often pay attention to them. I see the man in the car beside me, and though we have something in common (we’re stopped at the same red light), I don’t give much thought to who he is, where he’s going, what kind of day he’s having. It’s not that I don’t care about the man in the car beside me, it’s just that I’m usually too wrapped up in my own thoughts to really consider him.

The Woman

One morning a few years ago, on my drive to work, I noticed a woman walking slowly down the street. To say she was inching her way along the sidewalk wouldn’t be an exaggeration. Her legs were bowed under the weight of her body. Having seen several loved ones struggle with “bad knees,” I guessed that this woman was living with similar pain. My heart went out to her and I prayed for God to bring comfort and healing in her body. As I put my care and attention on this woman – a total stranger – I was surprised to feel my eyes welling up with tears. Over the following weeks, I’d often see her in the early mornings, lumbering along that same stretch of road. I imagined she, too, was on her way to work. She’d round the corner and wait to be fetched by a bus. I began to look for this woman as I approached that intersection, praying for her, whether I saw her or not.

On days when I felt a bit blah or worried if I’d make it to work on time, seeing this woman snapped me right out of it. Focusing on her helped me put things into perspective. I’m not sure if my prayers were answered, but I do know without a doubt that praying for this stranger fed my heart and spirit. Eventually I found a different route to work, but I still think of that woman from time to time. I hope she has been blessed, in ways big and small.

The Man

Several years ago, one of my sisters moved into a new apartment. A big family lived in the building and I often saw the father crossing the street to collect his kids from school. In fact, I rarely visited my sister without seeing this man coming or going. Over time, sightings of the man grew more frequent. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, in different parts of town and my sisters and I would nudge each other as if to say, “Look who it is!”

The man came to recognize us and would smile and wave hello. We ran into him (and mentioned him) so often we eventually dubbed him “The Man.” The stock response to seeing him became, “Of course!”

On my birthday that year, a situation led to my family dinner being cancelled at the last minute. It became a party of two–my younger sister and I–going for a chilly nighttime walk at the beach. I was disappointed that the birthday celebration had unraveled, but decided I would  be grateful for the beauty of nature and the company of my kid sis.

And then it started to rain.

And then it started to pour.

Neither of us had an umbrella or a raincoat, so we took shelter under a big tree. As we stood there shivering, I could either have burst into laughter or burst into tears. And then, like a beacon in the night, wearing a white T-shirt and shorts (in January!), who do we see emerging from the darkness? You guessed it–The Man–out for a walk with his son.

Of course.

When I saw The Man, all of my disappointment washed away.

“It felt like a wink from God, telling me I was exactly where I was supposed to be.”

Not long after this, my sister and I were across town when we saw The Man heading our way. (Of course.) Our grins turned to surprised laughter when The Man spotted us and yelled, “I love you guys!” in his thick Eastern European accent before disappearing into a store.

Another God-wink.

Last summer, when my sister prepared to move out of her apartment, I realized that we probably wouldn’t see The Man anymore. It seemed ridiculous, but I was going to miss him. I’d grown accustomed to seeing his smile, to watching with a warm heart as he cared for his children. I never had a conversation with him, but The Man no longer felt like a stranger to me. His presence reminded me that we are all connected. Seeing him reminded me of God.

On moving day, I went to help my sister vacate her home. On one of my trips to the moving truck, I noticed The Man was also loading things into a big truck. I smiled at him and perhaps he could see the question in my expression, because he said to me: “We’re moving out today. We’re going to a new home across the bridge.”

Of course.

What perfect timing.

They would never know it, but these two strangers – this woman and this man – have touched my life. Yes, we live in a busy world and it would be impossible to pay attention to everyone we cross paths with. But once in a while, we might glance upon a stranger and pause for a beat. We might notice them, and wish for them to be loved and blessed.

Who knows, maybe we are the man who moves someone to remember God. Maybe we are the woman that someone else is praying for, right at this very moment.

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My dear SheLoves friends:

• Is there a stranger you hold up in your heart sometime?
• How does God remind you that you are in the right place at the right time?
• Any other comments?

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About Stefanie:

Stefanie is a Registered Clinical Counsellor living in Vancouver, BC. She feels blessed to work in a helping profession and is grateful that her work requires her to show up not in a power suit but with listening ears and a compassionate heart. Stefanie enjoys spending time with family and friends and has never met a kid or baby she doesn’t like. She is a noticer and appreciator of birds (chickadees, herons, eagles) and many a beach rock has come home in her pocket. Stefanie is a lover of music, tv and movies, and she is gifted at absorbing and retaining useless pop culture trivia. She loves walking, fresh air, the smell of dirt, and anything of the salt and vinegar persuasion. She can often be found puttering.

RELATE with Helen: Let’s Talk About Sex!

“Can you honestly say that you believe that your gift of sexuality is a good gift from God?”

By Helen Burns | Twitter: @helenburns

It’s February … So Let’s talk about SEX!

I am not exactly sure why, how or when it happened, but one day I realized that I was standing on an awful lot of platforms, talking on a lot of radio and television shows, and throughout many nations about the often taboo subject of sex.  Perhaps it is because I was blessed to grow up in a home where my parents were open and honest with me regarding sex and very openly loving and affectionate toward each other. So, today I find myself really comfortable around this topic though I think my daughters and my older grandchildren still squirm more than a little when John and I are teaching about sex.

February is a month that is synonymous with romance, love and passion, so I thought I would bring this spicy little topic up once again.

Sex is God’s brilliant idea.

He created it as a gift and blessing for husbands and wives to enjoy in the safety and sanctity of their marriages. But sadly, we live in a world of immense sexual brokenness and shame and on every continent I have ministered in I’ve encountered the painful reality that something so perfect and beautiful has gone horribly wrong. Genesis 2:25 describes a picture of perfection: “Now the man and his wife were both naked, but they felt no shame” (NLT). How stunning is that!!!

One of the questions I often ask women–young and old, married and unmarried, as I am teaching them is,  ”Can you honestly say that you believe that your gift of sexuality is a good gift from God?” The reactions are quite varied, but I think most women sadly feel like it’s a burden, not a gift to be treasured. This creates huge relationship challenges not only within marriage, but also in how we relate to the other sex and lead the generations in their view of sex, marriage and men.

This year my “one word” is RECLAIM. So I am standing with a fiery passion to reclaim what belongs to God and there are few things I feel more passionate about than reclaiming healthy sexuality. I believe that in many ways it has become the battleground of our society. In a world riddled with sexual exploitation in so many arenas–from pornography and infidelity to sex trafficking–I am convinced one of the ways to win the war is to let TRUTH speak into this matter and bring beautiful, healthy sexuality back into marriage, where it belongs.

Sex In Marriage

Sex as it was intended is holy and can create health and wholeness in a marriage. While sex is not the foundation for a healthy marriage, it is a beautiful expression in which couples can feel supported and comforted by each other.

There are certain questions I am often asked often regarding married sex … Questions like:

“What is normal?”

- “How often should a married couple be having sex?”

- “What is permissible in the marriage bed?”

I like to tell them there is no such thing as “normal.” Normal is nothing more than a setting on your clothes dryer and there is not a “one-size-fits-all” in this department. But here are a few thoughts I hope can help you:

• A healthy sexual relationship starts with a healthy YOU. I know I say that a lot, but if your heart/soul isn’t healthy, nothing works in the world of relationships. Proverbs 4:23 says: “Above all else, guard your heart, for it affects everything you do.”
• A healthy sexual relationship is one that is gratifying and fulfilling for both husband and wife. It’s all about meeting each other’s needs. Couples should be discussing their needs openly in order to negotiate a relationship that meets BOTH of their needs. Ladies, God meant for you to really enjoy sex too!
• A great sexual relationship will come from an overall great relationship with your spouse. It can only truly be enjoyed when there is mental, emotional and physical trust. Sexual frustration can be an indicator of a relationship that is lacking trust.
• Great sex will require giving. Love gives, lust demands.
• Great sex will require understanding: being aware and sensitive to each other’s needs. Do you really know what your spouse wants?
• You were created to enjoy sex, not endure sex.

Sex and the Single Woman

We, as women are not made with an ON/OFF switch when it comes to our sexuality. It’s not like when we say “I do” that suddenly our sexual thoughts, feelings and appetites unexpectedly surface. No, by then, we’ve been dealing with them for a while and navigating this sexual part of our lives is important whether we are married or single. Once again, having a healthy heart and attitude is critical for every woman. The best time to take care of your heart in this regard is before you ever enter into a relationship with a guy.

Our attitude toward sexual passion says something important about the state of our hearts. Sex is a porthole into our hearts, and our heart is a difficult place for us to hide from our hurts, disappointments, wrong attitudes, emotions and feelings toward sex. So many women have been stolen from–some have been sexually violated; others have been lied to and told that sex is dirty and horrible by their own mothers; others gave up sex when they longed for physical intimacy, because of a massive Daddy- hole in their hearts.

Whatever the reason may be, I feel it is imperative that we pay attention to our hearts, get truth into our hearts, and then learn to discover and walk in the freedom of an open and ready heart.

Every woman at the core of her heart longs to be loved, known, cherished and pursued. That is the picture of true romance, which is the cry of every feminine heart. Whether your heart is free, or battered and broken, there is hope, healing, strength and beauty for your gorgeous, perfect, God-shaped heart.

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My dear SheLoves friends,

• Can you honestly say that you believe that your gift of sexuality is a good gift from God? (Try to at least be honest with yourself here – no need to answer out loud, though perhaps your thoughts could help others?
• How can we become a part of the answer to the sexual brokenness in our world?
• Any other thoughts or feelings on this topic?

Helen Burns and her husband, John, speak around the world on the topic of relationships. They host the popular TV show “Relate with John and Helen.”

Photo credit:  Fathia Qadreza via Pininterest

Stale Cake? By Choice.

” … I am flavored with a conviction, perhaps unconventional, that never ceases to fuel my appetite for adventure, exploration and contemplation.”

By Ali Valdez

On a recent flight back to Seattle from Tucson, I grabbed the latest Harper’s Bazaar with a striking cover of a clearly air-brushed Madonna alongside her W./E. ingénue for an article about her full-length feature debut. I am a huge fan of Madonna (NOTE: her uncompromising vision, indefatigable work ethic and determination. Not her sexual exploitations or agent provocateur-ism). I found an article about her an irresistible indulgence relative to my usual philosophical and theological ponderings.
In the article, she talks very candidly, as Madonna is wont to do, about how women who get to a certain age–an age where they are less desirable and not conducive to marriage–become, according to a Japanese saying, “stale cake.”

There is no question greater (in my mind) in the Christian church that weighs heavier on the hearts of young Christian women than: when will I meet Mr. Right and get married? Being a single woman in a church of married people of similar age can be pretty oppressive. You cannot help but feel a bit outside the box.

Two points for back story here: 1. I attended a Christian college where I wrote for the newspaper a commentary piece that received a lot of chatter on campus. It was called “Desperately Seeking the Mrs. Degree.” (See? There goes my Madonna kick again.) 2. Just  recently I posted a rant on Facebook about having adult onset acne when I never had any in my teens.

Mirror, Mirror

Approaching the mirror as I washed up after my evening flight, I came face-to-face with my own lightly aging, tired-from-years-of-long-haul-flights-and-dehydration reflection. In case you did not know, dear Reader, I am a never-been married, 40-year old singleton. How could that be, perhaps you inquire? Well, over the decades, I never found myself without a date or a boyfriend, but nonetheless, if I were a cartoon character in Mulan, I would likely be dismissed by the matchmaker as “stale cake.”

Backstory One was a diatribe in how women waste so much time trying to affix themselves at an early age to someone to wed. I had no particular aversion to getting married, but I was not one to obsess about the boys on campus as much as plot my own future. Looking back twenty years later, I have no regrets and cannot say there is any inflection point in any of my relationships where I rue a course of action or my choices to separate from one of my boyfriends. Backstory two was just a hard cruel fact. Adults get zits!

In college, one of my professors told me if I did not marry my college boyfriend, chances are a Christian woman like me would never find a good man. Oh, how I thought this was a bit absurd and histrionic. Looking back, he had a point. It has not been easy finding a proper soulmate for me. Also doesn’t make it easy when you are too busy traveling the world and doing everything you want to do to really look. First place to go? Well, the church. I am not your typical Sunday submit to your husband kind of bird. So now what? Do I weep over my hope chest? No, instead, I will reflect a bit.

Past Relationships

My past relationships have been great. I have done a discerning job not dating jerks. All my guys have been attractive, really intelligent, fun and naturally athletic. What they have not been is 100% devoted to God or on any spiritual path. After several months, even the extraordinary ones made me feel like they were stifling my potential, clouding my focus. Put me on the track if you must, but understand, I am thoroughbred by nature, so please let me ride. My single-pointed concentration and my accumulation of fire were constantly being dampened by the trivialities of shared life.

Even as a youth, I was always rooting for Paul, who acknowledged being unmarried, similar to many spiritual traditions, has its place in the kingdom. He listed advantages to being single. “But I would have you without carefulness. He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord: But he that is married careth for the things that are of the world, how he may please his wife. There is difference also between a wife and a virgin. The unmarried woman careth for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and in spirit: but she that is married careth for the things of the world, how she may please her husband. And this I speak for your own profit; not that I may cast a snare upon you, but for that which is comely, and that ye may attend upon the Lord without distraction.” (1 Corinthians 7:32-35).

Of course, there are times where I wonder. There are times when I date a man and cannot help but ask, “Could he be the one?” I do not eschew marriage as being an aged convention or ersatz by any means. I admire my friends with wonderful marriages and I have role models who are inspirational and lovely. Many people I have stood alongside, celebrating their unions and God’s blessing by uniting them as one. For me, uniting has always felt like one plus one equals one too many. The idea of dividing my focus just does not suit my design (and I think God agrees with me.)

Maybe the essay I wrote back in college really addressed something deep within me that I did not fully realize until now. I like having 100% of my energy and focus set on goals without distractions. My desire to serve God does not really want companionship. In spite of years of regular church-going, Christian college, bible groups, and church volunteering, God just never has indicated to me it was time, or that a particular individual was the one for me. For many that might draw pity or compassion, maybe heartbreak because they sit from the perspective of a satisfying and fulfilling marriage. Others may secretly be reading this saying, “You go, girl, I wish I was as strong as you” because from their purview, the marriage decision has been more burden than bliss.

My Choice

I love and admire each woman for the decisions they make, just like I admire and respect the decisions I have made for myself. My windows look out onto a world of bold and unlimited potential. I am “stale cake” by choice, loving every flaking bit of me, even the crumbling, dry and flavorless chunks that fall to the floor. Taste me or toss me, it does not matter, because I am flavored with a conviction, perhaps unconventional, that never ceases to fuel my appetite for adventure, exploration, and contemplation.

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My dear SheLoves friends, I’d love to hear from you:

• If you’re single, have you ever felt pressure to be married?
• How do you deal with it?
• Any other thoughts or comments?

__________________________________

About Ali:

My name is Ali Valdez and I live between Seattle and Houston. I am a Christian yoga instructor, academic and writer, and devote most of my time in servitude to my students, who are yoga teachers or studio owners developing yoga communities in their cities and towns. I have also worked and led Kindergarten and small groups at my church. I love religion, philosophy and man’s inquiry on all things of higher order. I have devoted my life to study and am versed in the metaphysical, philosophical and topics of comparative religion. Practically, I love wellness, nutrition, the gross and subtle energy bodies, healing, alternative medicine, fitness, exercise, and healthful levels on many levels. I have done crazy things like marathons, sky-diving and state-of-the-art spa treatments. I look forward to connecting with you all and sharing whatever insights I may have that serve you in your aspirations. For fun, I travel the world, host retreats globally, read and write on my blog, the Gadabout. I also party with my Bun, a little five-year-old named Mathilde. You can learn more about what I do at sattvayogaonline.com

Creating Meaningful Traditions and a Family Manifesto

RELATE with Helen: “Fiddler on the Roof,” belonging and memories that last down the generations.

By Helen Burns | Twitter: @helenburns

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Those who really, really know me, know that my favourite movie of all time is “Fiddler on the Roof.” I first saw it when I was 16 years old and I managed to drag my then-boyfriend, now-husband John to watch it at the theatre with me three times in a matter of weeks. It was pure sacrifice on John’s part as he was definitely not a fan of musicals, but desperate to spend time with me.

I, however, was desperate to connect with something the story was telling me. Everything about the story resonated with my young heart, and it still speaks to me today.

It’s a story that parallels some of my childhood experiences and family history.

In this movie, the lead character is Tevye–a husband, father and devout Jew. Things in his small rural community are changing and he is grappling with God, life and imminent change.

Tevye opens the movie with these words: “A fiddler on the roof? Sounds crazy, no? But in our little village of Anatevka, you may say everyone of us is a fiddler on the roof, trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune without breaking his neck. It isn’t easy, you know. You may ask, ‘Why do you stay up there if it is so dangerous? We stay because Anatevka is our home. And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word! TRADITION! Because of our traditions, we’ve kept our balance for many, many years. Because of our traditions, everyone knows who he is and what God expects him to do.”

I, too, strongly value the beauty of meaningful traditions. To me they are like the unwritten history of a family and they give us a way to define ourselves. Most families have some traditions, though many wouldn’t even be aware of them.

The dictionary defines “traditions” as:

- An inherited, established or customary pattern of thought, action or behavior

- A belief or story relating to the past that are commonly accepted as historical though not verifiable

- A time-honored practice or set of such practices.

I believe in conscientiously developing meaningful traditions in life … in family, marriage and friendships. I have discovered that through these traditions our values and “heart-culture” are passed on from generation to generation.

Why Traditions?

- Traditions provide stability – In a world of constant upheaval and chaos, we desperately need some constants in our life. Things that we can count on and things that can be an anchor that holds us no matter what storms may come.

- Traditions help us preserve strong values - Research has shown that if you grow up as a child with strong rituals, you will experience much more resiliency as an adult.

- Traditions provide identity – One of the most essential needs for every human being is the need to belong. Being a part of a family, a company, a tribe that has traditions gives you a true sense of ‘I belong here’.

- Traditions create safety and trust – they open up avenues of communication – they build foundations and confidence because of the past investments of time over and over again.

A few Burns family traditions include:

• Family Nights

Ever since our girls were young, we made “family night” a part of our lives … one night a week with no phone, no interruptions. Just us committed and invested into each other. We made them fun and memorable. We are still committed to this as a family, even though it may be every few weeks, instead of weekly. I know everyone really looks forward to being together, especially the grandies.

• Date Nights

When our three daughters were young, John began “dating” them individually once a month. It was one of the most foundational parts of their developing lives which I believe still carries them with strength in their lives as adults and mothers. He still takes them on dates, as well as the grandchildren now. The connection that began so long ago is still so vital and beautiful.

• Toasts

This began on a Christmas Eve a number of years ago. After we had dinner and opened the traditional matching pajamas gift (and then put them on), we gathered and filled up our glasses and began to share from the heart. It surprised us how tender and yet powerful the words were that flowed, often accompanied by many tears. This is a time when we deliberately choose to invest words of honour and gratitude into the lives of those we so dearly love. This tradition is still one of my faves.

Many more traditions have developed over time. They are precious and mean the world to us.

Family Manifesto

Recently I wrote a note to each of my daughters and told them there was something I wanted from them. You see every year at Christmas and birthdays they ask me what I want as a gift and they know the answer is usually the same : “I don’t need or want anything … let’s have a date, instead.” So that has become my birthday tradition with my girls–a really fun time out together to celebrate me ageing!

But this year for Christmas I asked for something. I asked for a Family Manifesto–one that would uniquely describe “us” as a family. So, on Christmas morning I was presented with an awesome piece of wall art that is the first thing you see when you enter my home and upon it is written our story, our traditions, our values and our love.

As they presented it to me, my six-year-old granddaughter, Shalom, read it out proudly as the tears streamed down my face. Here are the words:

FAMILY GATHERS HERE
WE VALUE ONE ANOTHER
WE CRAVE TOGETHERNESS
We exhale in each other’s presence
We are fiercely protective of each other
We’re about being real, not perfect
WE ARE RIDICULOUSLY LOUD
We laugh until it hurts
We give without expectation
WE ARE GRATEFUL
We say “I love you” without special occasion
We break dance to polka classics
We wear matching PJ’s
We’re forever loyal to the accordian
We serve astounding portions of dessert
We have notoriously clean floors
We feed the birds, share licks of ice cream, and treasure hunt on the beach
We do art, we hot tub, we play bingo
We love fluffies and floats and espresso
WE PRAY TOGETHER
AND WE PLAY TOGETHER.

I want to strongly encourage you to be deliberate about creating valuable and lasting traditions within your core relationships. As I’ve discovered, traditions bring clarity, strength, value and hope to your life and the lives of those you love.

Proverbs 4:18: The ways of right-living people glow with light; the longer they live, the brighter they shine.

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My dear SheLoves friends, I’d love to hear:

• What traditions have you created with family and friends?
• If you were to write one sentence of your Family Manifesto, what would it be?
• Any other thoughts or comments?

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About Helen:

Helen Burns and her husband, John, speak around the world on the topic of relationships. They host the popular TV show “Relate with John and Helen.”

TGIF: Why I Didn’t Go to the Gym in 2011

On hot fudge sundaes, loving my jiggly bits and saving the world.

by Tina Francis | Twitter: @teenbug
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[Full disclosure: I'm sipping on a glass of white wine as I write this post. #liquidcourage]

“It’s too bad you’re fat,” he said. “The dress looks better on your sister.”

I was six.

He* was my 21-year-old cousin.

This was the moment I believed a lie.

[*Complicated back story. Perhaps for another time.]

Being a hot fudge sundae

Like a lot of women, I have naively clung to the lie that my life would be mediocre, uninspired and boring, until I lost the proverbial ten or twenty pounds. Forget Santa, I’ve waited my whole life for Skinny Me to magically show up in a cape and rescue Pudgy Me. I thought of Skinny Me as my stronger, braver, carefree, adventurous alter-ego; she grabs life by the cojones. 

Does anyone relate to the following?

(It’s too bad I’m fat) If I was skinny I’d…

wear more colour.
wear less makeup.
ask for a promotion.
sing in a coffee shop.
take that belly dancing class.

write a book.
embrace my curly hair.
launch a small business.
charge the rates I deserve.
wear my glasses more often.

swim with dolphins.
Wait … 
put on a bathing suit,
stop obsessing about my thunder thighs,
learn how to swim, and …
then swim with dolphins.

wear a “little” black dress (Size: M/L – depending on the store),
forget about my back fat, muffin top and dark armpits,
rock red lipstick and smoky eyes,
smile at myself in the mirror (even my jiggly bits),
and shake my bon-bon.

stop hiding my face behind my hair.
believe that I’m worthy of love.
speak up in meetings.
find a mentor.
save the world.

I’m sensing a collective Amen.

After years of struggling with my weight, I’ve slowly come to realize I didn’t want to be skinny. I wanted the life I thought only a skinny person deserved to have. A life of: frolic + freedom.

Early 2010, I read Geneen Roth’s book, “Women, Food and God” after watching her on Oprah. (I’m such a cliche, right now. Haha. #shootme) Geneen’s book helped me re-frame 2011.

Geneen confirmed a hunch:

“It’s never been true that the value of a soul, of a human spirit, is dependent on a number on a scale. When we start defining ourselves by that which can be measured or weighed, something deep within us rebels. We don’t want to EAT hot fudge sundaes as much as we want our lives to BE hot fudge sundaes. We want to come home to ourselves.”

Ohhhh …

I wanted to BE a hot fudge sundae. I wanted my life to be full of creamy decadent friendships, hot oozey passion, topped with whipped whimsy, nutty adventure and sweet maraschino-cherry life experience.

I wanted my life to be a story that was so riveting, so grand, so epic, you couldn’t put the book down.

The Problem: My Sinking Heart

A couple of weeks ago, I had a candid conversation with my friend “Lisa” about the role beauty plays in dating. She told me about her friend “Trent” who only dates girls that are long-distance runners. Aesthetic reasons aside, Trent believes their lean bodies speak volumes about their inner strength, dedication, determination, commitment and willingness to get uncomfortable.

If a lean body communicated such wonderful characteristics, what did my pudgy body communicate?

Something about this story totally unraveled me. I was a sobbing mucous-dripping mess. I cried for over an hour. Trent confirmed a deep-seated fear of mine: my pudgy body was not worthy of love. Why would someone see me as a worthy partner if I was weak, flaky, faltering, uncommitted and wary of discomfort?

“Weight loss does not make people happy. Or peaceful. Being thin does not address the emptiness that has no shape or weight or name. Even a wildly successful diet is a colossal failure because inside the new body is the same sinking heart.” – Geneen Roth

Ah, yes. My sinking heart.

When my sinking heart is drowning in self-hate, I deprive myself of food and I punish myself with exercise. A recipe for disaster, yes?

Trent’s theory is partially true. Some girls have indeed managed to find the perfect balance of diet and exercise. What he didn’t account for was skinny/athletic girls who don’t love themselves. We all have at least one skinny friend (her thighs don’t touch), who can’t stop obsessing about diet and exercise. Trent’s theory didn’t account for beautiful girls who lived in my dorm who ran 15 miles after eating one cookie. Girls who starved themselves a whole day before a family meal because they’d have to eat everything on their plate. Girls who, despite their pretty shell, didn’t believe they are worthy of love.

Girls, who look “athletic” on the outside, but share my sinking heart.

The Real Reason I Haven’t Been to the Gym in 2011

Once I figured out I was actually craving an exciting life, I knew 2011 needed to be different. No more New Year’s resolutions to reach my dream weight before the summer. I refused to go to the gym until my motives were clear.

I made a pact with myself to never go to the gym for the following reasons:
- Guilt
- Shame
- Punishment

This meant that I barely went to the gym this year.

The verdict?
I didn’t lose or gain any weight in 2011.

I did, however, write a killer chapter for the story of my life.

I went on a life-altering road trip. I ran my first half-marathon. I made a sick amount of new friends. I helped raise $43,600 for my sisters in Uganda. I went on dates. I read great books. I ate delicious food. I got out of debt. I debated life’s deep philosophical questions over Skype.  I bought a wicked camera. I shot my beautiful girlfriend’s wedding. I charged what I deserve. I wore red lipstick. I cut my hair. I got a promotion. I wore thigh-hugging running capris (cringe). I spoke up in meetings. I found my voice. I wrote a column that helped me find healing.

Psssh… who wants to be skinny?

I’d rather be a hot fudge sundae! Holla!
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My theme for the year has been to invest in the things and people I love. “Awake my soul” by Mumford and Sons nails this message for me. Enjoy!

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So dear friends…

1. Do you remember the moment you believed a lie?
2. What are some things you want to do in 2012?
3. What’s holding you back?
4. Have you struggled with your weight?

Love you more than Coconut Pinkcherry Yogurt, (<- Recipe)

xoxo,

Teen

To read more TGIFs from Tina: Click here.

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My name is Tina. Loved ones call me: Teen.

Words are my chocolate. Music, my caramel. Photography, my bread. Girlfriends, my butter.

Confession: Some girls dream about Manolo Blahniks or their next Hermes bag. Not me. I dream of freshly baked bread, perfectly barbecued meat & steaming bowls of Pho. My dream lover *cue Mariah Carey song* is someone who would read out a menu to me in Barry White’s baritone voice.

I celebrate food, ask for help, interrupt conversations, laugh and cry hard, acknowledge the elephant in most rooms, fight for the underdog and believe in the power of storytelling.

My word for the year is “leap.” If something scares me, I do it.

I was born and raised in Dubai and currently live in the beautiful city of Vancouver, known for some of the best sushi in the world.