let it go
I feel like a 10 year old girl signing the song from the movie Frozen over and over in my head.
"Let it go, Let it go! Can't hold it back anymore..."
It's true, I am pushing myself this year. I am going to find my stories. I am going to let them go, I am going to let them OUT. I am going to let them flow onto the page/screen/notebook/sketchpad in any way they want. I am letting go of the {self-imposed} rules that say I can only write about certain things or from one perspective and that I am not a true artist.
"I don't care,
what their going to say..."
I have taken steps to unleash this power within myself and no, I am not building ice castles on the top of mountains. But then again, maybe I am? Maybe my castle is a manifesto, a poem, a novel, a children's book, a watercolour painting... something just waiting to be released from the storm inside my head.
"It's time to see what I can do, to test the limits and break thru,
No right, no wrong, no rules for me.
I'm Free."
I don't feel any fear right now. I know a lot of people who are taking these steps with me are afraid. Afraid that their writing is crap, that they won't be able to live a wholehearted life, that they are not {insert whatever it is you think you are not enough of here} enough.
Maybe it's because Idina Menzel has been singing in my ears for the last 15 minutes straight, maybe I am just done with being scared and feeling little, and maybe its just time to really just let it all go.
Let go of other's expectations of me, let go of what I think others expect of me...
I know it is time to let go of my fears,
of constant comparison to others,
of feelings of jealousy,
of trying to be something or someone I am not,
of feeling inadequate in my own head and heart and body.
I am enough. Heck, I am MORE than enough. I am ME and I have things to say, words to write, a whole-hearted life to live.
You can come with me on this journey if you would like. You may not like parts of this journey and you may LOVE other parts too. I suspect I'll feel the same way. I am also packing light for this one. All baggage is either being left behind or being put down on the page.
I am not looking to write the perfect book or poem or essay or to paint the perfect watercolour painting. I am looking to unleash the creative me that is pounding away inside of me, screaming to be let OUT! The one that keeps being pushed back by that voice {you know the one} that tells me I am no good at this.
It really is time to slam the door on that voice and listen to another one. Tonight, Idina/Elsa is working for me. This is gonna be one AMAZING mountain top ice castle!
"Let it go, let it go, that perfect girl is gone.
Here I stand, in the light of day,
Let the storm rage on.
The cold never bothered me anyway."
[youtube]http://youtu.be/iEKLFS-aKcw[/youtube]
<3,
N~
a peek inside
Okay, okay, time to do some writing. Now, what am I going to write about today.....???
*Goes off to check Twitter and Facebook. Gets sucked into a vortex of Youtube videos of Jimmy Fallon singing like Neil Young.*
OK, seriously.
Yes, that's a good idea, let's write about something serious today.
*Goes off to watch another Fallon video - this time it's the one with my no-he-is-not-too-young-for-me movie star boyfriend, Joseph Gorden Levitt, lip-syncing to Nikki Minaj.*
Maybe I should write about that thing that I read about the other day. You know the one.
Or...
Maybe I should try my hand at some abstract poetry. Something deep and meaningful.
And PROFOUND.
Yeah, yeah, let's do that!
.
.
.
.
{crickets}
.
.
.
.
OK, nothing profound happening today.
Let's go back to that first idea.
What was it again?
Oh, screw it.
I'll just do some free form, stream of consciousness writing and see what comes out.
(10 minutes later, hits delete on 457 words)
Well, that was just crap.
Now what?
*Heads off to see what's happening on Twitter-again. Posts a picture on Instagram.*
Ok, no, really, that first idea was a good one. Go back to that one.
Yes.
Okay.
Off I go.
*Closes all other open tabs, takes laptop to quiet room and starts writing.*
~~~~~~~~~~
A few weeks ago I bought myself a couple of notebooks to help give me a kick in the pants with my writing and get into the habit of writing SOMETHING at least once a day.
I decided to open up the 642 Things To Write About book today at a random page and this was what it said.
You're welcome {to the inner workings of my very easily distracted brain}.
natasha~
Knock Knock Little Sucker: aka 'What I learned at Blissdom Canada.'
Blogging conferences are funny things. They are full of opportunity. They are fun. They are chalk full of women {and men} who are looking for connections and who are, for the most part, notorious over-sharers and gregarious huggers.
They are also terrifying and overwhelming and can send even the most seemingly extroverted person off to a far corner to hide from the hulabaloo and constant "who, what, where, when and why"?
Four weeks ago I made a snap decision to go to Blissdom Canada this year. The stars aligned one day and within 24 hours I had a conference pass, a roommate and a plane ticket booked. I guess it was a kind of conference kismet.
And then ALL of the self-doubt started to seep into me.
Why was I going this year? What did I hope to get out of it? I don't really fit the blogger target market of conferences like these and the sponsors who support them, so again, what was the point of me going exactly?
I convinced myself that this was going to be a glorified girls weekend with some fabulous women that 95% of the time I only connect with online. I registered for all the required sessions at the conference and chose the Creative and Change tracks versus the Business ones. I didn't even bother getting business cards made, since I don't really see what I do as "business" anymore.
With all of that done and a typed-out, page-long "how to be me for four days" instruction sheet for my husband taped to the refrigerator, on October 3rd, I packed my suitcase, valet parked my car at the fancy lot at the airport and hopped on a plane to Toronto.
Maybe it was because I did not have a lot of expectations going into this conference. Maybe it was because I was being more of an observer and listener than a talker this time around (I know, I know. WHAT??). Maybe it was because I avoided the whole monetizing side of things and spent time spending money at the Handmade Market instead. Or maybe it was because I wasn't worried so much about what people thought of me and I was just being me. Unapologetically Moi. Whatever it was, in the end, I was very pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed the conference, getting to meet so many new faces and spending time with my beautiful peeps, Annie and Alex and Tillie!
One moment truly defined the conference for me. No, it was not the opening keynote, although Eric Alper's ability to make everything and anything relate back to music is simply amazing and somewhat uncanny. It wasn't the incredibly powerful "Social Media Etiquette" panel, that included the stupendous {in my squealing fan-girl opinion} Glennon Melton of Momastery fame and the quiet strength of Rehteah Parson's dad Glen Canning, even though that session did make everyone in the room think REALLY HARD about what they put out there (online) and what the universe inevitably gives back.
My moment came during the aptly-called "Power Hour". An hour of mini presentations à-la-TED-style that were inspirational (@Schmutzie), motivational (@CanadianDad) and hilarious (@sharonDV). I was standing at the back of the room absentmindedly scrolling though my Twitter feed when a speaker I had not heard of before was introduced.
I was still engrossed in some silly Twitter convo, when this speaker's words started to register in my brain and they pulled me away from my phone:
She wasn't giving the usual kind of presentation. She wasn't telling everyone in the room to be authentic and to find our voices and to tell our own stories. SHE WAS TELLING US ONE OF HER STORIES.
A story that she had written. On her blog. A story that was at once hilarious and crazy and so incredibly vivid and beautiful, that she had a whole standing-room-only conference room hanging on her every word.
And it was this moment, the simple act of Shannon Fisher telling us her crazy pig story that made my whole Blissdom Canada experience worthwhile. Her words sucked me right in and I felt like I was on that cold snowy road with her and the asshole pig. And having found the post afterwards, I have read it no less than three times already.
Then it hit me, a full week AFTER the conference ended. Why I went, what I needed from this conference and why I still want to continue over-sharing in this wacky world we call the 'Blogosphere".
I needed to redefine what blogging was for me. I needed to know that it is OK to be the blogger who doesn't work with brands, that it is OK that I am not blogging for the almighty dollar or the not so mighty, yet still lovely box of nice smelling bum wipes. I needed to know that MY stories matter. That my stories ARE making a difference for someone out there.
And the way that I learned that was through listening to someone else tell one of their stories. A big bonus was getting to sit down with Shannon at the after-after party on Saturday night to get to know her a bit too. She really is one cool chickita and I feel like I should leave you with another of her posts to read, just in case the pig story didn't already hook you.
Shannon's reading of her post out loud, the actual embodiment of the advice we often hear at blogging conferences about finding and using our authentic voices, THAT was my Lollipop Moment at Blissdom Canada.
And it took me this long to actually realize it!
Oh, and second epiphany...
@clippo and I take awesome Half-Ducky selfies!!
natasha~
P.S. You really need to watch this video and listen to Drew Dudley, who had the original Lollipop Moment, and hear his message. He was the amazing closing key note speaker at Blissdom Canada this year and blew us all away with his message about true leadership!
My addiction
This was an assignment I wrote for a writing workshop I took last year.
I reread it tonight and it made me laugh...
because nothing has changed!
I hope you like it!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can feel the pull.
It really is only about 22 steps from where I am right now.
And it will be warm.
And soft.
And I can just drift away from all of this.
This.
This never-ending LIST of things that I need to do.
The list I have been avoiding for so long.
The piles and baskets of bright coloured clothing that are scattered along my hall are looking more and more like permanent fixtures and they keep growing in height and depth.
I don’t know where all of these papers keep coming from. It is like a tree gets cut down once a day in here and all of it’s byproducts end up on my desk and scattered across the kitchen counters. I swear I just filed it all and emptied the pretty blue box yesterday.
If I could just close my eyes for a little bit, I can do it all later.
Everyone else in this house is sleeping right now. Why can’t I?
BECAUSE!
That is what you did yesterday and the list that was supposed to be finished then is now added to the list that is for today.
YOU JUST CAN’T.
PIck up this, put away that, wipe this, wash that, fold this, call so and so, book this appointment, get nephew a birthday present, plan this party, get a new windshield, schedule our next date night, etc...
Sleep is a powerful drug.
There are no problems when one is sleeping. The lists do not exist when I am curled up in my bed. I don’t have to deal with anything when I am sleeping. The kids will sleep with me and we are all happy and there is no yelling, no threatening to take away this or that toy, just peace and snuggles and...
Void.
But I can’t. If I go there now, then there will be three days of to-do lists TO ACTUALLY DO,
and I will soon be buried in those bright piles of clothes and papers.
It’s a game actually. One that my mind likes to play with me.
"How far can we push her? Let's make her eyes go buggy, droop those eyelids a bit more, convince her that it can all be done later.
Come on Natasha, only 15 minutes, then you will feel all refreshed and can get back to work."
But it never works like that. Once sleep catches me, she doesn’t let me go. She makes my limbs heavy, my head heaviest of all and won’t let me wake up after a mere 15 minutes. That does not appease her.
So I have to say no. I have to fight her off. If I keep moving, she won’t catch me. If I sit down, if I stop, she knows she has won.
This may sound silly, but no matter how much I want to be 22 steps from where I am right now, snuggled in my bed with the 4.5-year-old miniature version of myself, I can’t go there.
I have to GET THINGS DONE.
My name is Natasha Chiam.
I am addicted to sleep.
It has been 3 days since my last nap.
....................
Post #2 for today and the #summerblogchallenge.
Don't you feel lucky?
On motherhood: the ultimate vulnerability.
I had coffee with a friend the other day. A pregnant friend who is in that "second-trimester, starting to feel uncomfortable in her own changing body, slightly grumpy about the restrictions it is placing on her" friend. We are relatively new friends (and yes, we did "meet" via social media), but our stories are quite similar. She could be me seven years ago. A woman in her mid-30's with a burgeoning career, life experiences and accomplishments that she is proud of and someone who is pretty sure of who she is in this world.
And she is afraid.
Afraid of what becoming a mother means.
Afraid of losing herself to this new role in her life.
Afraid of following in the footsteps of the mothers in her life, who became wholly consumed by motherhood and whom she feels lost all of who they were before then.
So I told her what motherhood did for me as a woman.
I told her that becoming a mother has taught me more about being a woman and has opened me up more to the world around me than any other life experience I have ever had.
And then she looked at me with the wide-eyed look of someone whose fears had just been confirmed!
So for my friend, and for everyone else who may have these fears about motherhood and losing themselves in it, I felt the need to explore this more. This is what I have come up with...
~~~~~~~~~~
You can read every "what to expect" pregnancy and new baby book on the library shelves, watch every TLC show about babies and childbirth, listen to all your friends tell you all their tips and tricks for being a new mom, and it won't matter one bit. The minute you have a child, the moment you open your eyes after that last big push, or you finally hold your baby in your arms after a long adoption wait, or you wake up after your c-section to see your baby sleeping cuddled with your partner in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs... you have new eyes.
And they see everything differently.
All of a sudden, everything takes on a slightly different tinge, has a more sweeping scope, uses a different filter.
I was not a "natural urban" anything before I had kids. I was Natasha, and all I really had to worry about was me. Yes, I was married and we were (and are) a great team and we were as inseparable then as we are now, but my life really was primarily about me. My career, my promotions, my wants, my needs, my whims...
When we started planning a family, in that plan was me going back to work after six months, a list of recommended daycares and day homes and a career to get back to ASAP. We decided to start "trying" in earnest after a trip to Tanzania in 2005 and we got pregnant within three months. All was going according to the plan.
Half-way through my second trimester, all the shit hit all the fans!! I had dangerously high blood pressure. I was admitted to hospital within an hour of a routine OB appointment and 24 hours later we were having a discussion of "fetal viability" with a neonatologist.
THIS WAS NOT IN THE PLAN PEOPLE!!
We had to make some big decisions. I had to take a medical leave from work immediately and was kept in hospital for two weeks. After I was finally allowed to go home, our life became about daily Non-Stress Tests (which is a really ironic name for them by the way!), weekly ultrasounds, perinatologist appointments and ultimately full bed-rest. We lived each week holding our breath until after the ultrasound to hear whether or not our baby would have to be delivered then or if he would get another week to grow and develop in utero.
Maybe it was because my "vision" changed earlier than some. Maybe it was because I "saw" my baby every week from 26 weeks until 3 days before his birth through the lens of the ultrasound wand. Maybe because I had to read different kinds of "what to expect" books (ie, what to expect in the NICU, how to care for a premature baby, what long term complications we might encounter, etc...). Whatever the case, from that first moment of panic, nothing in my life was about ME anymore.
And here is the plain truth of it all.
Yes, motherhood is an all-encompassing endeavour and yes, one does become consumed by it, but in my opinion, that is more biology than it is sociology. A human child needs its mother to survive. She provides it with warmth, love, nourishment, protection. Our bodies and the systems within them, adjust to the post-natal state and function perfectly to do all of this. A mother and child will breath in sync while sleeping together, a baby will imprint on the mother's scent and will be primarily soothed by her nearness. The hormones released by both mother and child during breastfeeding, not only serve to perpetuate this amazing feedback loop of supply and demand, they also provide both with a sense of calm and an endorphin rush of happy. In essence the mother and child are really just two parts of one beautiful and biological machine of great complexity. It does no one any good, especially mothers, to fight that part of our nature.
I did not and I do not see this initial all-consuming part of motherhood as a surrendering of one's self. I see it more as an opportunity to explore a deeper part of one's self that has not been readily evident before. Motherhood teaches us the true inventory of our bodies, our minds and our souls. Motherhood made me look very closely at every aspect of my life. From the obvious ones, like getting the safest car seat and making sure I knew how to install it properly and using non-VOC paint when decorating his room, to farther reaching environmental issues like choosing to cloth diaper and researching every product that touched his tiny little body. I was relentless in all of this and I spent hours on parenting forums (remember those days?). I was a sponge for all things mothering. I wanted to be GOOD at this. Really, really, good!
What I discovered through all of this was that in order to be 'good' at it, I had to let go. Let go of plans, of schedules, of ridiculous expectations (both mine and those of others), of doing things a certain way without exception. This was hard for me. I am a creature of habit and I like a certain amount of order in my life. Having children has taught me that sometimes a nap is just as important, if not more so, than a shower some days. It has taught me that what I say and do with my children and to my children is going to have a lasting impact on them and therefore on this world. It has made me so much more aware of global reproductive rights and how much work there is to be done right here in our own back yards, let alone across the globe. It has made me painfully aware of all of the misinformation that exists in our world with regards to both breastfeeding and formula feeding. Motherhood opened me up to the most amazing parenting practice ever - babywearing. And through babywearing, motherhood made me an entrepreneur. Motherhood made me an advocate for women and in turn a voice for many... and yes, it made me an ACTIVIST and a FEMINIST too.
Some would look at my life and say that I have indeed surrendered my former self to motherhood. I mean, look at me, I am a stay-at-home mom, I drive a micro-van, I arrange play-dates and go to yoga while my kids are in school. AND I did some of those "extreme" parenting things too, like extended breastfeeding, elimination communication and co-sleeping. Oh, and I have a blog too! They might as well slap a MOMMY sticker right on my forehead and move on to the next person in line to ask what they "do" for a living. It's got the be way more interesting that motherhood, right?
To these people, I would say look closer. Motherhood has opened my eyes to a world far beyond my front door. Seriously people, giving birth (without drugs to boot!) is an experience that tests you both mentally and physically, and I passed that test. TWICE. There is nothing I can't do now! The world has opened up to me, and not just because of the internet (although it has helped immensely), but because I have let so much more of it in! My children are going to inherit this world after me and I will do my part, however small it may be, to ensure that not only is it a better one for them, but that they in turn will see my example and want to make it an even better world for their children.
You know that iceberg picture that everyone shows at every presentation you have ever been too? (Go here to see the one I am talking about). I think of that image when I reflect on my life. I was the tip of the iceberg before I was a mother. Like my pregnant friend, I had a full life, I had adventures, I had a career, I was proud of what I had accomplished and felt I was a valuable, contributing member of society. Motherhood didn't make me forget about all that, nor do I think that it consumed me. Motherhood just opened up my life to boundless possibilities and to the depths of my mind and my soul that existed below the surface. It has made me grow and has pushed me and made me take risks and venture far out of my confort zone way more than anything else in my life. Motherhood has made me accept my vulnerabilities as a human being and see them not as a weakness of character, but as a path to create more goodness, more beauty and more LOVE in my world.
In a nutshell (and 1700 words later-Ha!), motherhood was the beginning of my legacy. I have actually birthed three babies that will live on after me and carry a part of me with them always and forever. My son with his thirst for knowledge and attention to detail, my daughter with her quirky sense of humour and love of all living things, and finally my writing. My story... their story...
My evolution as a mother
and as a woman.
Both sides of the same coin.
And as I have learned, it serves no one to fear or resist either one!
natasha~
the great fast
Ah Lent... That time of year when those of Christian faiths around the worlds "give up" something before Easter, to commemorate Jesus' 40 days in the desert. (Where I am sure, if he had just stopped to ask for directions, would have been a week, maybe two, tops!) As a kid, we would choose to give up chocolate, or TV, or more often hitting and pinching each other - trust me, as the oldest of four siblings, that one was the hardest!
Now, I am what you would call a C-GINO (Catholic Girl In Name Only) kind of gal. I don't go to church regularly, I did not baptize my children and as you can guess, I have some serious issues with some of the more rigid teachings and doctrines of the Catholic church.
But Lent? Somehow Lent has always meant something for me and this year is no exception.
So while the leader of the Catholic Church himself, with impeccable timing, has decided to GIVE UP his entire flock this year, I am taking things along a different route. This year I am going do DO something for Lent.
I am going to write for the next 40 days. Something every day. Something that makes me happy. A daily "silver lining".
Because sometimes we lose sight of them. The small things that we miss while we rush about in our fast-paced world. Those moments that are gone in an instant in our 'check-list checking, phone reminder beeping, time is slip, slip, slipping away' lives.
And really... It is just so much easier to focus on the crappy things in our days.
You hit the snooze button one too many times and now everyone is late for school and/or work. You forgot that it was pajama day at school and now you feel like the worst parent ever and your kid is giving you THAT LOOK. You didn't eat breakfast and now at 2 PM, you are shoving a chocolate-filled croissant in your face that you know will just make you feel like you want a nap in an hour. Which you can't have because you have to get the kids to swimming and then you put the swim bag on the floor and it got soaked through and now the kids have to go home in the middle of winter wrapped in damp towels and their jackets. AND you forgot to take something out of the freezer for dinner... again, so its a mad rush to figure out a decent meal that everyone will eat. There is laundry piled a mile high, a stack of papers that have been on your kitchen counter for 2 months now that you really should have a look at and for some reason your spouse is NOT offering you a foot rub.
Life SUCKS.
Or does it?
Those extra nine minutes in bed were spent smooshed between your two children, one gently running his fingers through your hair and the other one spooned up against you with her little hand intertwined with yours. That croissant was TO DIE FOR delicious and still warm. And while the swim bag was soaking up half of the water on the deck, your 4-year old treaded water for 30 seconds without any floaties and then looked over and full-on winked at you with the biggest smile ever! The laundry is at least clean and while your spouse may not be giving you a foot rub, he is planning on surprising you on Valentine's day with a new iPad mini.
See?
Silver linings.
And I need to find them.
I need to focus on the joy in my life, to keep the shadows away and to remind myself that my life absolutely does not SUCK.
So, this is what I plan to do. 40 days of Silver Linings.
I am giving up any feelings of despair and depression and self-pity for Lent.
What about you? What are you giving up? Or do you want to join me and make a little Silver Linings Playbook of your own? (Disclosure-I have not seen this movie yet and it is on our Must See list for the next date night!)
Natasha~
1. Today's Silver Lining was me finding my inner HAPPY PLACE.
It is that spot just past the break of the waves on a beautiful Pacific Ocean beach of the coast of an island in Hawaii.
That spot of calm.
And I am in the water. Floating. On my back. My ears are in the water, my eyes are closed, I am one with the water...
I am of the water.
And in that moment it is just me and the ocean. No sound.
Just the sweet bouyancy of the salty water and the warmth of the sun beaming down on me.
I am fluid.
I am calm.
It is vast and I am small.
And happy.
natural urban mama grows up
As with anything creative, change is inevitable.
~Enya
I am in the last few weeks of my 40th year.
It has been a very interesting year to say the least.
A lot has happened in my life, both personally and professionally these last 11 and a half months.
At the end of January 2012, after much deliberation and soul-searching, I closed my online retail business to focus my time and efforts on my family and myself. It was a bittersweet decision, but one that I do not regret in any way.
In April of 2012 we moved into our new Natural Urban Home. A house that we designed, that we put our hearts and souls into and that we continue to imbue with the spirit of our family every day. In one week we will have our first Christmas morning in this house and I have to admit that I may be just a tad bit more excited about this than the kids!
After finally getting all of us settled in the the new house, summer 2012 hit.
And was gone in a flash!
September rolled around and all of a sudden I had one child in Kindergarten and one in preschool, and it took all of us the whole month to figure out our new routines (and yet, to this day, we are late for school at least twice a week).
I think it was probably sometime around late summer that something awakened within me that made me realize what I truly wanted to DO with myself.
You know, that thing that is just for me. For my sanity, for my creativity, for me to fully express myself as a person.
I am sure you'll all have guessed by now that that "thing" was {and IS} writing.
When I am writing, I feel good. About myself and weirdly enough, about what I am contributing to the world as well.
My writing has taken a turn this year. I have figured out that I am indeed a feminist, and a somewhat outspoken one at that. I have tackled issues that are important to me and I hope I have challenged the image of what people expect a feminist to be or say or do.
I mentioned to a fellow blogger once that I felt that my "voice" was changing and she responded by saying, "Well, of course, you are going through blogger puberty."
So there you have it folks, at the ripe age of 40, this mama... this blogger... this writer, hit puberty!
Somewhere along the way and in the midst of the changes of my so called puberty, I think I outgrew the space that I had created here on the interwebs. I was no longer focused on just being the "Natural Urban Mama". My interests and my thoughts started covering broader spectrums of motherhood and feminism and community involvement. And I know that there still exists some confusion about Natural Urban Mamas and what exactly that entity was {is} now.
It wasn't until I attended a local do-gooder event and had a chance to sit down with two of my favourite blogger babes that I realized that it was time for a change.
So here we are...
On the brink of a BIG change.
One that I need and one that I hope you will all understand and choose to embrace with me.
The latter half of 2012 has been well... let's say, interesting. I am more so than ever focused on my writing and have the wonderful Alice Bradley to thank for that. I have been dealing with my usual case of the seasonal blues that kind of hit out of nowhere this year (and yes, I am getting help) AND I have two beautiful children who are venturing further and further into the world and I am feeling this overwhelming need to do something to make sure that the world they are navigating is a better one for them.
My babies are growing up, and kicking and screaming, they are bringing me along for the ride.
It's the last few weeks of December 2012 and it is time for this change to happen.
I am re-branding.
Puberty is over and it is time to shed the trappings of my {Internet} youth and be a full blown grown-up!
I am a WRITER. {I figure the more I actually type or write that out, the more I will start believing it myself!}
I am also a stay-at-home mom. Which means that with a four-year-old and a six-year-old, I am almost NEVER at home!
I am also a feminist. A label that I am wearing with more and more pride and conviction each and every day and one that speaks to all the topics that are near and dear to my heart, my soul and my mind!
So...
Without further ado.
I would like to re-introduce myself and this blog to you...
I am Natasha.
the stay at home feminist
{I think this song sums it all up very nicely! And I always love me some Stevie Nicks.}
[youtube]http://youtu.be/WM7-PYtXtJM[/youtube]
Try, try, try.
You are eleven years old. You are not good enough.
Not pretty enough.
Not smart enough.
Not worthy of his love, his time, his attention.
You are not his daughter anymore.
In the years to come
You will let countless others use you in the name of feeling something that you think is love.
You will think this means that you are wanted.
You will ask yourself over and over, every year,
Why?
What did you do?
Why did he disappear? Why did he not fight for you?
You will think it is because you are a girl and that he wanted a boy.
You will spend your life trying to please those who claim to love you.
You will give too much,
and keep nothing for yourself.
Your heart will be broken over and over
and over again.
But you won't give up.
There is a strength in you.
It is buried
Deep
But it is there.
And so you keep getting up,
You keep trying.
Because you are worthy.
You are loveable.
You are amazing.
You are strong.
You will make things right.
You know that you will never be perfect,
And that perfection is not the goal.
You know that time will heal.
You know what you need to do.
Love yourself first.
I can't stop listening to this song from the incredible, incomparable, PINK!
[youtube]http://youtu.be/ivPEKaBHjYA[/youtube]
Natasha~