9th March 2021: When I went out for my cousin's birthday dinner recently, I asked the other women what they thought constituted a 'bad girl'. We agreed that it came down to a level of 'me first' that always outweighs the well-being of others. A 'bad girl' or a 'bad boy' may be charming, funny, intelligent and generous when it suits them, but in the end is it selfishness that defines the stereotype? If so, is that really their problem, or is it mine?
Here's the thing - we are told (is it whispered in the ether?) repeatedly to love ourselves and put ourselves first. So what does that look/feel/sound like? If I were to put myself first today, what would I do? How would I speak to myself? What would I eat? What kind of choices would I make? Does it mean I can watch netflix and eat cheezles? Probably not.
I am currently not working. Sometimes it's enjoyable and I'm able to make a little extra money selling things I don't need. When I was last working I saved enough to get two cheap kayaks off Trademe. Me and Rob used those shitty kayaks for about four months; one was nick-named 'The Wobbler'. One lovely afternoon at Leigh Harbour, Rob quietly informed me that he'd just seen a shark glide by. I thought it might be time to upgrade.
We upgraded to better kayaks over Summer. This is one of the greatest objects I have ever owned. It allows me to spend hours exploring and gazing into the water, sometimes muddy, mysterious, thick with mangroves, or turquoise and clear, revealing pale stingrays with shining blue markings.
I feel like I am supposed to be where I am when I'm in the sea, or near it. The creatures of the salt water speak to me in movements full of grace and my heart suspended in joy. I have gone snorkeling and seen an Octopus sitting quite still, the skin almost mauve in an attempt to match the pink colour of the rocks. When I see any kind of ray, it's absolutely breath-taking. A little stingray with her baby, their lovely little wings flapping and slightly disturbing the surface of the water.
These feelings contrast with the low hum of 'what to do next with my life'. I have so many ideas, they overlap and threaten to drown me sometimes. I end up feeling confused and paralyzed, unable to act. I'd rather watch an Octopus on a rock.
I know I need to re-new my purpose and motivation for life. I love to share the joy I experience when I'm in nature. I know it can assist in healing. I also know that when you're depressed or stuck it feels like the power and beauty is so far away, and that all the Stingrays and cute Octopuses in the world matter because I also care about people.
Recently I found a lovely Youtube channel called 'The Crappy Childhood Fairy'. Bear with me, this does somehow tie in!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3N_t0ZSvn_Y
I did not have a 'crappy' child hood, but I did have a challenging one from time to time. The woman who has this channel shares some really helpful information and tips for those who may be experiencing CPTSD (Childhood Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). The reason I mention this is due to the fact that I am still very hard on myself for 'not being like other people'. I used to fly that one like a fucking flag, but as I've gotten older I don't feel the need to.
I'm also no longer obsessed with pleasing people. If you're familiar with 'love languages' then you'll be aware that each of us is supposed to have a couple of dominant 'love languages'. I'm mostly fucking ALL OF THEM! Ha ha!
The 5 Languages of Appreciation
- Words of Affirmation – uses words to affirm people.
- Acts of Service – actions speak louder than words.
- Receiving Gifts – people like things to feel appreciated.
- Quality Time – giving someone undivided attention.
- Physical Touch – appropriate touch (pats on the back)
Perhaps others would remember it differently, but throughout most of my life I have enjoyed doing all of the above for my friends and boyfriends. The one that I struggled with the most would be 'Acts of Service' if that were to mean doing housework! I've improved on that one immensely since being with Rob.
The thing is, I wanted all of these love languages to be expressed back to me, and that's a big ask. The reason I bring it up is because I used to spend so much time finding ways to show others I loved them that I would neglect my own well-being. That isn't their fault. They might have preferred a less intense friendship!
Fortunately the few friends/family members I am close to are fine with the level of intensity we share (and paradoxically, that intensity has dropped dramatically).
These days, as I continue to explore what is is to 'love yourself', I might even be considered 'selfish' from time to time. It's a very new place to be. I think of what I want/need and then I do my best to fit other things around it.
As I have continued to do this, I find something almost like boredom creeping in. Or is that peace? Ha! Whatever it is, it wants attention. Perhaps that's the cue to think of others again.
Pour as much care into yourself as you can, and when it gets a bit boring it's time to act! The thing is, what will we do?
If you have a form of trauma, it can be so helpful to understand how it is effecting your body and brain. I feel almost embarrassed to say that I might have experienced trauma due to things that happened in my past. I don't know why it feels so shameful. Logically I know it isn't.
Once, when I was 26, I was almost raped by a stranger. Do you know why I won't tell you the details? Because I'm scared it will sound like it was my fault. I'm shocked that I 'let this person' get away with what they did and can't explain why I didn't tell the truth. I had the chance to report this fucker, and I didn't.
I shared this with a wonderful friend/my sister Lisa recently. She was so amazing. We agreed that it seems to be common to almost 'protect' the rapist. It's as if something kicked in that said 'just get away at all costs'.
Now that's just a tiny slice of a thing that happens to a lot of us. The thing is, many of us have so many more slices, and some of them are fucking huge.
In Childhood Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, the brain is wired differently. We need to take notice of the fact that we can't just pull on our sneakers and go for a jog, pop some pills, 'act as if' and that will be enough. We might need more. I'm no expert. I'm just a woman muddling along, staring into water, trying to work out how to make a difference. I do know that it helps to understand that my brain fog isn't necessarily 'my fault'. I feel so alive and happy a lot of the time; I have been very depressed in the past and know the difference.
What amazed me was that the Crappy Childhood Fairy talked about 'brain fog' and it was as if someone was describing half my life! One of the main tips she gives regarding brain fog is changing how you eat. She recommends a low to no carb eating plan and no sugar.
I know. Fuck. I am overweight (ugh, who cares) and I know I have to do something about it. But chocolate. And sourdough bread with onion jam. Oh and slow roasted pork (it's cheap!) with shitloads of FAT. I don't care. I don't care. But I do care. I want to move easily and with grace!
This is one small step towards healing that I am moving towards. I'm scared to commit. I am addicted to carbs, to sugar. I haven't weighed myself in ages because why would I? I'm pretty sure I'm about 12 kilos heavier than I was five years ago. But it's not the weight that motivates me to try and eat in a low to no carb way. It's knowing it may help with Brain Fog!
Obviously there are carbs in a lot of foods that are good for you, such as vegetables, but I'm thinking about excluding all those obvious ones like bread (even sourdough), rice and potatoes. How I'll say no to ice-cream is a mystery. So in order to make myself accountable, I'll post here once a week and let you know how it's going. Shall we say Sunday nights?
The other thing I'm going to do? A gift box for an old neighbour. When I lived in Avondale, there was a young family next door with the loveliest kids. When I could afford to, I'd go over with gifts or things I thought might be useful. When the girls (twins) were turning 8, I asked what they wanted for their birthday. They asked for slippers. I think about that as summer starts to fade. Who needs slippers?
Love, Candice x.
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