Love Yourself

I used to be the girl who looked at her reflection with an unhappy frown. I think most females have been that girl at some point in their life, but I spent a good majority of my life like this!

If you find yourself doing this please stop!

I’ve been you, you’re looking at your body in the mirror, telling yourself you are not good enough, that you will never be good enough. You've probably heard this from people in your life over and over again. A mom, a friend, a boyfriend. Yourself. You've heard it so much you've began to believe it. 

Maybe you think your nose is too big, or your skin isn’t the right colour or your hair just isn’t straight enough, or you're not thin enough, your legs are too long.. the list is endless...

You are likely standing with the latest issue of Vogue in hand, wondering what you can do to make yourself look like the model on the cover – even though your logical brain knows the model doesn’t look like the model on the cover!

You’re likely thinking of how you can eat less without anyone noticing, or how to go entire days without feeling hungry.  Or how you can purge without your friends hearing.

You don’t have an eating disorder… yet. But you’re on the fast track to one or you do and are in denial. I was about mine, for years, admitting is hard. 

You want to know a small truth, many of us do this. Scrutinize, judge, misunderstand our bodies on such a superficial, skin deep level, that we forget our bodies are collections of amazingness! 

You are made of seven octillion atoms? That’s enough to create a small universe inside you. Your bones are four times stronger than concrete because they are made from the marrow of the stars themselves. Your eyes are the most incredible camera lens man will ever know and your brain works ninety nine percent faster than the most powerful supercomputer on this planet.

The connected neutrons of your brain, are a direct reflection of the universe.

Your body is an incredible cosmic vessel afloat in darkness, though you do not feel at home inside your skin your body has always been your home – a place that has sheltered you and loved you no matter what it has gone through.

Be gentle with your body. It loves you more than anyone or anything in this world. It fixes every cut, every wound, every broken bone, and fights off so many illnesses, sometimes without you even knowing about it. 

Even when you punish it, it is still there for you, struggling to keep you alive, keep you breathing.

Be kind to yourself, love yourself. 

Love Running

As I was running today I realized that tearing my meniscus happened at a moment in time when I needed to slow down, when I needed to step back and take time to figure out where I wanted to go and what I wanted from my life. 

I realized that for a long time I used running as unhappy place, I used running to run from my problems. 

I began running on a regular basis during my relationship with Mike. He often made comments to me such as “if you gain anymore weight I’ll have to break-up with you” or “maybe you don’t need to eat that today”. Running for me gave me a sense of control over my life that I felt I no longer had control over. However, I began running to please Mike and not for myself, I began running not to feel good about myself but so I could stay in a relationship I needed to be out of. 

I continued to run after Mike and I broke up but not out of love for running but to outrun the pain. The pain of the breakup and the pain of not feeling like I was good enough for anyone, the pain of feeling inadequate. 

I was the smallest I had been since I quit swimming. Everyone told me how good I looked and how pretty I was and this kept me running for the fear the if I stopped I would no longer look good. BUT, I didn’t feel good. Something was missing and that something was love, not love from someone but love for me.

A year ago I tore my meniscus trail running. It was really hard for me not to run, everyday I would ask my physio “can I run again?” “can I run yet?” “can I run, can I run”. I think he was getting sick of hearing me say “run”. I was excited to get back on the running trails as I was fearful I would begin to gain weight, fearful I would no longer be adequate. 

Spending almost a year from running was really HARD on my body physically and emotionally. I put on some weight initially but not as much as I thought I would and I began to find other actives to fill my time with, I began to fill my life with actives I loved and was shocked at how much I actually didn't love running but rather I realized I used it as a numbing agent. 

The past few months I’ve started running again and my distances have been slowly increasing. Running is different this time for me, running is for me and not for anyone else; it makes me happy and I am able to find my happy place while I’m out on the trails.  I come back feeing invigorated and excited to run again instead of drained and feeling like running is a daunting task.  I know now what the love of running feels like.

It feels satisfying to be able to run for life and not from my life, for once I am finally fulfilling me and not trying to please other people around me. I am doing things for me and to better who I am, that is self love! 

...

I used to think I was abnormal because I was afraid to find love, maybe it’s because I never saw what love looked liked, I didn’t know that love existed and I really enjoy my independence — the ability to do what I want when I want and never have to check in with another person. I grew up too fast for my own good. It is what happens when you grow up in an abusive home. 

It’s an ongoing internal battle between wanting to find that special person and not wanting to compromise my independence. 

Finding balance has never been my strong point, I tend to be all in or all out. Balance is essential to growth. It’s about attaining a level of comfort that doesn’t cause me to be stifled.

For me, my twenties were a constant, tumultuous conflict. Desiring companionship but not wanting to feel smothered. Pulling people in just to push them away!.

I thought I was in a place where I genuinely felt ready to find my person I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. But I wasn’t.. oh boy I really wasn’t! I was going through so much. Fighting an eating disorder, battling self doubt. Coming to terms with my majorly failed relationship! 

Then he walked into my life, he was everything I thought I wanted. Tall, athletic, broody - all the girls loved him and all the guys wanted to be him. We had been introduced by friends and he picked me to be his girlfriend, me! He could have had anyone and he wanted me. Being the self conscious girl I was I jumped at the opportunity. 

The next three years of my life became HELL! I cried everyday, for a girl who lacks tear ducts this was really hard on me. The eating disorder I had fought so hard to get control over was furiously taking over again. I woke up every single day feeling less then worthless. I would spend three years of my life never feeling enough. He isolated me from my family and friends. He took away my independence. He took away my self worth.

Those three years taught me that it’s important to be completely solid in your understanding of yourself as a human being before letting someone else into your world because nobody except you can make your world complete. Nobody but Tiara can make Tiara whole.  

I fear give up my independence, I fear giving up me. I fear losing myself. 

I’d like to have that person who makes all of the hardships of being single seem worth it.

I do want a partner in crime; the peanut butter to my jelly; the fruit to my loop.

At the same time, I don’t want to stop being independent. I don’t want to become reliant on another person.

True love is finding someone who is your equal, not your crutch.

As I look back on my last relationship we didn’t really love each other. I was watching Grey’s Anatomy the other day and Callie says “You didn’t love her you just didn’t want to be alone. Or maybe, she was just good for your ego. Or, maybe she made you feel better about your miserable life, but you didn’t love her because you don’t destroy people you love”. Everyday he destroyed me. 

I’ve rebuilt myself from the rubble I was left with. A friend looked at me the other day and said you are so much stronger then you once were, you are a phoenix. 

I want to share my dreams, but I don’t want to give them up. I’m don’t want to give up what I’ve envisioned for myself.  I don’t want to compromise or settle for anything other than what I’ve always wanted.

I want someone to cuddle with, but I don’t want to spend all my time at home. I love the idea of having someone to hold me in the dead of the night. I want someone to keep me warm. I want to lay on your chest and breath you in, content and utterly at peace. 

I want to settle down, but I don’t want to become boring.

I might actually be at a place in my life where I am ready to tie myself to another person. At the same time, I am immeasurably terrified of becoming boring.

If I’m going to find love and finally make a commitment, I want it to make me a better version of myself.

The idea of becoming less representative of myself is enough to make me want to throw out the idea of true love forever.

I want to be a wife, but I also want to be a CEO.

I want to get married, but I, personally, will not be fulfilled as a homemaker. I have dreams of running the world, and I cannot allow another person to quell that vision.

I want to plan my life around someone, but I don’t want to change my plans. I want to find someone who will make plans with me; someone who will travel the world with me; someone who will make my life better simply by being in it. I have plans; I have a vision of my life over the years. I can for the FIRST time in my life imagine altering that plan, to fit you in. Because somehow you just seem to fit.

I want someone to join me on this crazy, beautiful journey of life.

I want to love, but I don’t want to stop loving myself. I can’t do that again. The most terrifying aspect of finding love is the fear of losing the love I have for myself. I’m so sure of myself. I’m proud of myself. I know my single self like the back of my hand. I built myself from ashes.

What I love most about you, is you in a short period of time have helped my self love grow! You have been supportive, you have been more then I could of ever wished for, ever hoped for. You are the puzzle piece that you didn't know was missing but all of a sudden the picture seems clear - this scares me. 

To all my overachievers…

As I sit here going on hour 17 of my day I’m completing yet another paper, looking at flights and trying to decide when I’ll see Josh again plus trying responding to the last round of emails for the day, I can’t help but wonder what my fellow classmates are doing right now.

I’m the judgemental type so I’ll make my judgements; the party animals are probably finishing up their last round of shots at Cowboys, the slackers have been enjoying their typical 10-hour of staring into the abyss and the Netflix addicts are most likely headed into their fifth episode of “The Good Wife.”

Then, there’s me. But thankfully I’m not alone in this category!

There are lots of me’s out there, I can name at least 15 of you and I met all of you from the last campaign I volunteered on. We are the neurotically motivated, unsympathetically determined, “can’t stop won’t stop” people who spend our days assessing an endless list of obligations and fighting the urge to bite off way more than we can chew.

We are the overachievers.

We accept challenges, explore opportunities and strive to exceed expectations. We lead (even though if you are like me you probably don’t want to), we volunteer and we do more than what is asked of us - provided it gets the task at hand completed. 

Sounds like too much! 

Only to those of you who watch us and feel dizzy!

If you ask us why we decide to put so much on our plates, you’ll probably hear different answers.

Some will say they were raised to be this way, others will claim it’s their own stubborn motivation and some will have absolutely no idea it just happened. 

Honestly, if you asked any of my high school teachers they will tell you I wasn’t an overachiever, I sat in the back of the class half bored not paying attention. They’ll tell you they didn’t except me to achieve much. Maybe I’m an overachiever because I want to prove everyone wrong. I want to prove that I am greater then anyone could have ever anticipated, I wan more for my life then ever thought possible. 

I think people like us are built over time. We work hard to get into university and once we are there we don’t let the next years pass by, we get out our organizers and get involved, chase opportunities and dedicate our time to becoming hardworking, multitasking, college-educated, ambitious humans. 

We make the most of what we’re given and consistently strive for more. A wise person once told me “That the hand we are given isn't the hand we have to play with our whole lives”. I am thankful for that lesson! Oh so thankful. 

No responsibility is too large, no task is too much and no deadline is too soon. We have it covered most of the time but don't shy away from buying us coffee. 

Once we begin volunteering for every open position, taking on leadership roles and offering favours, it’s not always easy to stop. It is our drug!

We know people depend on us, and our biggest fear is letting them down.

We continue adding items to the to-do list and do our best to complete them because nothing feels better then crossing items off our list, all this while trying to maintain our sanity.

There are many late nights, lots of coffee - my veins are now made of coffee - and moments of pure exhaustion, but we keep swimming, never stop swimming. 

To all my overachievers…

Know your hard work is recognized. Others notice the things you do and appreciate the effort you put in. I spent a lot of my life thinking people didn’t notice but believe me, they do!

Don’t forget to take care of yourself in the process! 

Focus on what matters and aim to achieve the happiness you rightly deserve.

Feelings, Feel Alive

I’ve spent majority of my life afraid to have feelings; I always thoughts feeling made me weak and I do not like coming off feeling weak. I did anything in the world to run away from my feelings, any feelings at all. You’ll often hear me refer to myself as the least empathetic person in the world because I don’t like to feel. 

I never had the easy life, I won’t get into the specifics, but it involved an abusive father, combination of booze, hard drugs and some not so nice people.

So how did I get through life without falling into the trap so many others in my situation have? I stuffed the relentless panic, the pressing fear and the impenetrable sweeping sensations of violation deep down within a closed-off cell inside of myself, I stopped feeling, anything!

You know what I have come to learn? Avoiding the feelings only made them manifest in different ways: panic attacks, nightmares that made it hard for me to get a restful sleep. 

I would run away from my own fear. I fled from every emotion that worked its way into my life. I would often drink until I blacked out, and I would drown myself in work. I surrounded myself with friends so I never had to face my own scary thoughts when I was alone, I hated being alone.

Numbing works, but only for so long. And sometimes you need a wake-up, sadly mine came in the form of a disaster waking up and not knowing where I was or how I go there. It was the scariest moment of my life, but in that moment I knew I was playing with fire, I was playing with my life. 

I all of a sudden became aware that my life could go in two directions; I could continue to run away from my feelings and possibly die, or I could feel my feelings and stay alive.

I have slowly allowed myself to feel. I am beginning to realize the beauty in feeling feelings.

Feelings are what connect you to yourself. Feelings are what inspire you to fall in love, write in a journal and cry your eyes out in a sad movie.

My life has become significantly better now that I allow myself to have an once of feelings. I know in my heart that feelings can’t kill me.But running away from them can. Feelings aren’t these epic monsters that can kill you. Feelings are feelings. Just that.

Don’t try to escape them. Write it down. Cry about it. Dance it out. Feelings are there to remind you that you are alive. Feelings are a testament to your strength.

When you’re tempted to be numb, remember crying it out won’t kill you but dealing with them head on could save your life. 

Finding Nemo

You would never know this about me but I can be quite the cynical person. Maybe I like my walls, or maybe all those years my mother suffered in abusive relationships made me cold, or maybe being rejected by my father hurts more than I like to admit. I don’t know, I don’t generally psycho analyze myself. 

I used to think love didn’t exist, at least not for me. Sure I would see cute couples and could see they were in love, but love doesn't exist for someone like me. I know, I’ve been in very serious relationships before but I was never in love with them, I loved both of them in very different fashions but I was never in love. I thought I didn’t deserve to be loved and that was ok with me. I was ok with never finding the, you make my heart skip a beat, I stair longly into your eyes type love. 

One of the hardest challenges in my life is feeling unloved! My father left me when I was a baby I didn’t get the chance to know him, he wanted nothing to do with me and I had no choice in the situation. He walked out on my mom when she got pregnant and never looked back. I’ve lived my entire life feeling like I wasn’t deserving of love. I built walls, walls upon walls, upon walls, and then built a moat and more walls! I didn’t want to let anyone see me, see the real me! I feared if they saw the real me they would turn and run the other direction faster then I could say STOP. I built a Tiara that I project on the world. I let people in just enough to seem normal but not enough that I can get hurt. I let them see a little glimpse of who I am but not enough to really know who I am. 

Sometimes the universe likes to slap you in the face. It’s not very nice of the universe but it happens, I know because it is happening to me! 

I met a guy who makes me smile, who makes me laugh uncontrollably and who is climbing my walls and jumping the moat. It’s scary for me but at the same time I feel so safe! He somehow caught a glimpse of Tiara’s soul and he wasn’t terrified to want to explore more. Instead he has told me he wants to know more, he wants to know Tiara. Nobody really truly knows Tiara, she's kind of a mystery. 

I was once told by a very wise person “Your person is not someone that comes into your life peacefully. Your person comes to make you question things, who changes your reality and they will make a mark on your reality. This person will revolutionize your world in a second”. He did this to me! He made me question everything I always knew. He made me question someone being able to love me, he made me question love. 

I am lost in him but it is the kind of lost that’s exactly like being found. 

Who Am I?

I grew up in a little farming town in Southern Alberta. It is mostly known for ranching and Mormons. I loved growing up in a small town, I never feared going to the park on my own or being a typical child. I was the typical tomboy, I was often be found running in the fields and jumping from hay bale to hay bale without a care in the world. I also had the longest hair in the world. It was down past my bum and adults would often tell me how much they loved it! First Nations people’s strength is held in their hair and my mom always kept my hair long and healthy.

At some point when I had finally started grade school I became self conscious of how I looked. I distinctly remember being in grade two and my friend was home sick so I asked two girls if I could play with them at recess. They stopped turned, looked at me and laughed. In that one moment I all of a sudden became self conscious of how I looked. The more bold of the two girls said to me you can’t play with us, we only play with girls who have hair up to their shoulders are friends with us. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to cut my hair. 

I would spent the next 9 years of my life fighting with my mom over the length of my hair. My mom, trying to hold onto what little bit of culture was left in me, would always refuse to let me cut my hair to my shoulders. Me wanting to fit in with the girls around me would fight my mom on the issue. At some point in high school my mom finally got sick of fighting me on issues and decided to let me cut my hair, I had finally confirmed to the girl I wanted to be. 

Recently in one of my English classes I read the novel In Search of April Raintree. As i read this book I realized that I identified with April, a metis girl more then I would like to have admitted. The following post explains  where I really identify with her, “There were two different groups of children that went to the park. One group was the brown-skinned children who looked Cheryl in most way. Some of them even came over to our house with their parents. But they were dirty looking and they dressed in real raggedy clothes. I didn’t care to play with them at all. The other group  was white-skinned, and I used to envy them, especially the girls with blond hair and blue eyes. They seemed so clean and fresh and reminded me of flowers I had seen. Some of them were freckled, but they didn’t seem to mind. To me, I imagined they were rich and lived in big, beautiful houses, and there was so much that I wondered about them. But they didn’t care to play with Cheryl and me. They called us names and bullied us” (Mosionier 14). I spent majority of my life envying the white the girls. I wanted to be like them, to the point of changing who I was -  I wore coloured contacts, I even once dyed my hair blond, I cut my hair short to fit in. Guess what?! None of this made those girls accept me, ever. 

Over the past few years I have recently come to accept myself and love myself. I decided I was no longer going to hide who I was, I was going to embrace who I am. All of who I am, the First Nation’s side, the Newfie side. I have recently even decided to grow my hair back. It’ll never be as long as it once was but I think it’s a step in learning to love every part of me. 

Change, scary or worth it!?

I woke up this morning to the first snowfall. Autumn is my favortie season, it’s the years last smile. The changing colors, the crispness in the air. There is nothing better than autumn. I hate the cold so I despise winter but I do love the first snowfall. I think because it’s a symbol of change, a symbol our Mother Earth like us is in constant change. 

Change, I’ve gone through a crazy amount of change this past year. I lost my job, I tore my meniscus, I came to terms with my rape, I volunteered on the craziest campaign in Alberta history and I went back to school to be a nurse. 

For those of you who know me you’re probably thinking “nursing, really?! You”. Haha, I know I know. The least empathetic person in the world wanted to be a nurse. However, on day one of nursing school I realized that I was in the wrong program. I decided I would switch into Public Policy and start preparing to write the LSAT. Lawyer, sounds more like me. 

I lost my nice job. But it was for the best, I wasn’t learning anything and frankly I was bored! I was a place holder in the company hoping for something better but not doing anything to get something better. I was almost pleased when my boss walked into my office and handed me a severance package. I knew at that point I was being forced to make a change.  Sometimes we change and sometimes change is forced upon us.

What has 2015 taught me?! I know the year isn’t over yet but 2015 taught me so much. It taught me how resilient I am. If someone asked me a year ago if I possessed resilience I would have laughed at them. As i look back on this past year I realized that at points my life was literally left in little pieces on the floor and I picked myself up and put myself back together. Unlike Humpty Dumpty I didn’t need the kings men, I just needed myself. 

For the first time in almost 10 years I spent 2015 single! Why does that word scare people so much. Being single this year was exactly what the doctor ordered. I found Tiara. I found this women who is strong and capable of being so much more than “so and so’s girlfriend” I developed self love and self respect that I was incapable of finding being tied to another human. 

I also learned sad facts about myself. I place self confidence in what I’m doing and not just who I am. I was struggling with self identity after I lost my job “who is Tiara now” then I joined this amazing campaign and I became confident in myself once again. I am learning to balance who I am with that I’m doing. Being a runner, or a swimmer, or working at some fancy firm doesn’t dictate who I am. I dictate who I am. 

I celebrated my 30th birthday. I thought by 30 I would have my life together. I would be married with two beautiful children. I would be the next Kelly Cutrone. Instead I find myself a student, with no children but that doesn’t mean my life isn’t together, it means I’ve decided to follow a different path and that is ok. 

I hope 2016 brings me laughter, hardship and lessons because without life lessons are we really living or just existing. I want to live life! I want to laugh until my sides hurt and cry until my mascara runs. I want to make friends and have crazy experiences. I plan to challenge myself on a consistent basis and become a better person. When I leave 2016 behind I want to know I’ve made a mark on a small portion of the world.