communication, health and wellness, lifestyle, Women, writing

They would …if they could

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You’ve most likely heard or read the phrase or seen the meme “If they wanted to see you, they would make the time.”, “If they wanted to, they would.”. I used to believe this, hell, I used to say this exact phrase to people. Well, I call bullshit. On myself and on the phrase. Why you ask? Get comfy, I’m about to tell you.

I have a question for you to ponder. Have you ever wondered why someone keeps cancelling or doesn’t reach out as often as they used to? Before we judge another’s actions or inactions for that matter, maybe take a breath, another, slow your roll, and think for a moment. Have you been reaching out? Have you checked in? If the answer is yes, and you’ve found the response cool or obtuse, although hurtful and confusing, did you take the extra moment to check in, really check in. Maybe even call them out on their response? Ask them what’s up or what happened?

I have someone in my life who I hold most dear who is struggling with their mental health and have been for some time now. The pandemic did not help matters at all. They have a good support system and a trusted therapist. They are struggling with many things, anxiety being one of them. They want to socialize. They want to be a part of things. They can’t. Not that they won’t. They can’t. Their brain will not allow it. Some days are better than others, some not so much. They are a warrior in my eyes, for they are vulnerable and fight everyday.

Some time ago, don’t ask me exactly when as each day seems to roll into the next since 2020. I do know I was no longer wearing a mask, so it must have been late 2022. …weird how I recollect memories by “was I wearing a mask or not?” …sigh. Back to the tale at hand. Some time ago, the above meme came across my Instagram, it seemed to be everywhere. I usually liked those posts or shared them, until it dawned on me. I wonder how many times my dear one read that, or heard it, and felt like shit. How many times did this phrase fuel the wrong fire in their mind, and left them feeling worse about their mental health than they already did? It crushed me. I spoke with them about it, and apologized if I had ever portrayed that mentality to them. I in fact had, and they thanked me for the apology. Owning your shit is tough and ask anyone who’s known me these past 51 years, I was not always so eager to admit a fault or mistake. A true Leo as my child would say. Safe to say, I’m owning my shit, because I realized a long time ago, if you don’t own your shit, your shit will own you.

I’m not trying to make anyone feel bad, or any shame if they’ve said the above phrase, or shared it. We all want to be seen and heard, and it’s hurtful when you feel excluded or left behind. What I’m trying to do is help someone out there to stop and think, and then maybe another person will too. A ripple effect if you will. To stop and think about checking in with friends and family. Really checking in. To stop for a moment and wonder if they are okay. To realize that maybe, just maybe, it’s not personal. That maybe that person is sitting alone wanting to reach out, or go out, but they just can’t. The reason may not make sense to you. Trust me, it doesn’t to them either, but it’s their reality.

How about this instead;

If they wanted to, they would, if they could.

Be kind. Plain and simple.

Beauty, health and wellness, lifestyle, Sunday Confessions, That girl in the red coat, Women, writing

Sunday Confessions

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I don’t know about you, but for yours truly, the past 3 years have kicked my ass. Emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually. These are the main perpetrators of my year hiatus from the blog. I literally couldn’t write anything. I would just look at my laptop, my closed laptop, and feel nothing. Oh, I had feelings, emotions, opinions up the wazoo, yet, when it came to actually sitting down and writing…nada. Until this week. The powers that be, the universe, Jesus, the Smurfs, whomever you choose, helped to light the fire in me once again. So as I sat down at my desk, plugged in my laptop, dusted it off, the universe and it’s infinite humor, reminded me to have patience and ask for help.

I don’t know if you know this, but when you don’t turn on a laptop for over a year, a 12 year old laptop, it um, doesn’t like it. So, there I was, starting, restarting, googling on my phone whatever I thought I should google, from laptop stuck in update loop, to laptop not loading new chrome, to 12 year old laptop not loading, to which my screen went black with the little arrow swirling around. Yes, I do believe my laptop and google were mocking me. Thankfully, the hubby is handsome and handy, and I begrudgingly limped up the stairs (twisted my knee in my sleep, welcome to 50, another tale for another time) and said “Honey, can you help me?”. …and since I’m writing, you know how the story ends. After asking for help, allowing myself to receive said help, and 1.5 hours later, without a tantrum from yours truly, my laptop loaded up and here I am.

I really didn’t have a plan for today’s tale. Looks like the universe gave me one. Those who know me, know all too well I can be hyper independent, some may say stubborn. I am not great at asking for help, and as for patience? Whew. It took 47 years and a goddamn pandemic to teach me that one. That being said, I gotta say, I’m proud of myself today. I asked for help, I took deep breaths and had patience. I didn’t take the laptop fiasco of 2023 personally. I took accountability of said fiasco, because it was me and me alone that did not open my laptop. Did I yell? Nope. Did I get mad at my husband? Nope. Did my palms sweat? Yep. Did my stomach hurt? Hell yeah. Did I get through it? You bet your ass I did. There was a time, I would have blamed Bill Gates himself for my technical issues. I would have either thrown my laptop in the trash and furiously ordered a new one or thrown it out and repeated over and over “See!?! Proof you shouldn’t blog again!” until I forced myself to believe it. Thankfully those days are gone. Gone but not forgotten.

That’s the thing about old habits, they try to rear their heads every once in a while. Right when you think you have your shit together, and you “got this!”, BAM! Your stomach starts to hurt, you feel a little sick and you feel yourself going back to your old ways, because they are what you know, as uncomfortable as they are, you feel comfort from the familiarity. It’s so screwed up, I know.

I’m not an expert, nor a guru on the mount. I’m here to tell you, we are all works in progress. If you’re reading this, you’re alive and you’re here, you made it another day. We have successfully made it through another day. We all have our own shit to deal with, let alone the shit of others. We are all flawed and we are all fabulous. It’s time to give yourself some grace. Take some deep breaths, and some more. Dance around your kitchen like a fool. Get outside, even for 5 minutes. .. and before you throw out a laptop, ask for help.

health and wellness, lifestyle, That girl in the red coat

Golden Rule

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Golden Rule (noun) – an important principle that should be followed when doing something in order to be successful; a guiding principle. – Merriam-Webster dictionary.

“do unto others as you would have them do unto you” – Matthew 7:12

I haven’t written in a while. I know, last month I wrote how I was going to get back to it. I wanted to be sure I could be as articulate as I could. You see, lately when I open up my laptop to write, all that comes through these finger tips is rage and profanity. Frustrated doesn’t even come close to how I feel most days. Between all things Covid, working in retail during a pandemic, worrying about my loved ones and their emotional health, let alone my own and the Cheeto that refuses to concede and the people that support his lunacy, lets just say fabulous isn’t my go to “f- word” lately. My biggest peeve as of late, is this whole debate over masks. Seriously. Masks. This is the biggest issue for people right now. Really? A piece of cloth covering your mouth ….and nose, is a problem. I don’t get it. I really don’t.

Now, before you troll me with insults, calm down and hear me out. Yes, I know people have medical reasons not to wear one. That being said, I have personally helped a young woman with Cystic Fibrosis, who wore a mask. I have also helped two elderly women with portable oxygen tanks, who wore a mask. These are people who literally cannot breathe, yet they wore a mask, because “it’s the right thing to do.” – their words, to me, when I offered they could remove their mask if it was too difficult for them to breathe.

For those who won’t wear a mask because of the belief that Covid is a hoax, well, it’s not. The numbers are climbing, plain and simple. I have heard people say “Well, I don’t know anyone who has it!”, to you I say, I don’t know anyone with Polio but I know it’s real. Those who say wearing a mask and Covid is a government plan to control us, just stop. Here in Canada the government offered $2000.00 a month to it’s citizens, for 8 months and counting. …. trust me when I say the government is not known for giving us money. Stating Covid is a hoax is an insult to those who have lost their life. It’s a slap in the face to all health care workers and their families, and it makes you sound like an ass. It just does.

Here’s the deal. This is not about you. This is about us. It is about doing the right thing. In life, doing the right thing is seldom easy or painless, except this time. Doing the right thing during a pandemic is to wear a mask. That’s it. For the majority of people, it means wearing a mask for 20 – 30 minutes if you venture out, no biggie. For many, myself included, it means wearing a mask for at least 9 hours a day, 5 days a week. No biggie.

At the end of all this, if we find out masks weren’t necessary, I’m fine with that. I have no problem knowing I did what I could with the information I had. If I end up looking the fool for wearing a mask, I’ve looked the fool for a hell of a lot more.

Merriam-Webster’s definition states the Golden Rule as a noun. It’s time to make it a verb.