Losing a List Item

I think if you know me at all, you know I haven't exactly been fond of the way some areas of my life have been over the last while (okay, mostly all of them). But I do have some good news - I've lost 10 pounds!

I believe this was list item #38 at some point anyway. Which I kind of forgot about until last week when I knew I was approaching the 10 lbs mark. So yay for a list item being done!

Now before you start to worry about the weight loss being stress related - it isn't. I've been working hard at it. I didn't think I was overweight, although I thought losing a little couldn't hurt. More importantly, I was getting into a bit of fitness rut (along with all my other ruts - ha!) I wanted to change things up so I did two things - I got a FitBit to track steps and I joined a gym.

The FitBit (which I got through Airmiles for 'free') allows me to track my daily steps, set goals and even compete against my friends for most steps. It allows you to also set sleep goals, track food intake and exercise. Oh and water intake. Which I am terrible at. Still.

I've had it about a month. I've already had several people, including a very old friend as well as a brand new one suggest that it may not be the best thing for me as it seems to bring out an OCD streak in me. That's partially true (can you be partially OCD?) but right now I think it's still in the healthy range. It motivates me to walk at lunch at work, walk the dogs at night and make sure I get my workouts in. When you live alone (or with a Zoo), no one holds you accountable for anything (except kibble in their dishes). Having this helps me stay focused and aware of my fitness goals and plans.

As mentioned, I also joined a gym. There will likely soon be a post about the gym practices itself and some questionable customer service I've experienced there. However long story short, I am enjoying having a place to go to use different equipment and try different things, even if their staff have some questionable human interaction and sales skills.

How did I get here? About 5 years ago right around now I was in the final stages of being tested to be a kidney donor. While I knew I wasn't overly fit, I didn't think I was way out of shape. I met one doctor on the team of evaluators that suggested I might want to "do what I can" to be in the best health I can be going into surgery, should I be approved. In hindsight, she was referring to my weight. I wasn't over the top weight they'd take, but I was pretty close. I remember being weighed for one of the appointments. They weigh you in kilograms and that is fairly meaningless to me. I Googled what my weight was in pounds when the appointment was over. OMG. I was pretty darn close to 200 lbs. I was mortified. I wasn't sure how I had let me weight creep up like that. I was embarrassed and disgusted with myself. Shortly thereafter, I bought a Groupon for a bootcamp being held in a community centre across the city. Even though I was nervous (terrified) of starting a new program with new people, I tried it. And I kept going back. At first just once a week, up to eventually three times. After I donated a couple of months later, I started going again around 5 weeks (being careful about what I did as to not hurt the surgery site). I lost about 10-15 pounds but didn't do the best job of  keeping it all off (although I kept some of it off).

In February 2013 I developed a blood clot somewhere (they still are confused about the where) and some of it went to my lung, which can be fatal.  It was 2am on Valentine's Day morning when they got the scan results. I remember being afraid initially that my poor mom was going to have to possibly lose someone else on Valentines Day (my dad died on Valentine's Day in 1996) or at the very least be worried about that. I was lucky though and walked out of the hospital on a boatload of blood thinners. What I took from that moment is that there is so much we can't control about our bodies; I needed to control what I could and make some changes, starting with my weight (that had nothing to do with the clot for the record - but it was an obvious change I could make).

Over the next few months I started exercising 3-5 days a week. I joined Weight Watchers. I gradually lost 30 lbs. And I have kept 20-25 of that off for the past three years. However this last 6 months I know I haven't been doing my best to stay healthy. Or at least its felt that way. While I had still been exercising at home, I needed something new to push me harder, stop me from backsliding and drop my weight a little more. So here we are.

I've set a goal of 20 lbs total, for now. I've actually lost 11 so I have 9 to go. I will be rewarding myself with a new sweatshirt/jacket I've wanted awhile that is overpriced but will last me a long time and replace on I have that is on its last legs. I will likely need to save awhile to get it or sell one of the dogs (lol) but it's a good thing for me to shoot for. When I hit the goal I'll weigh 15 lbs more than I did when I was 19/20. I don't want to get that low because I wasn't particularly healthy then - my nutrition was not good and I worked out too much doing the wrong things. I think my new goal is realistic and attainable and most importantly, healthy.

There is a lot in my life right now I can't control and it is driving me crazy. But my fitness, nutrition and weight I can. Working out also lowers my stress and provides hours of people watching entertainment (like the girl FaceTiming on the elliptical this afternoon, or the man with arms so overdeveloped he couldn't really operate the water fountain). It feels good to be able to focus and see results - the more I try, the better I do. And right now I really need that.

Happy

So far, 2016 has been pretty good. Decent. Alright. There have been quite a few positives, and I'm cautiously optimistic about most thing. I'm doing okay. I repeat: I am doing okay.

I've had several people ask me if I'm happy. The more its asked, the harder it seems to answer. The short answer is no. But I can't say 'No' out loud because that leads to a whole other set of conversations where I spend a lot of time and energy explaining thing and reassuring people that they don't need to worry or look at me with what I've nicknamed "The Pity Face".

I'm content. I'm not unhappy. I'm keeping my head up. I have a job I like with really super people that is bringing in most of what I need and a side company I'm building up to hopefully make up the rest. I'm marketable and resilient and I have options. A lot of people in Calgary and beyond are not as lucky and I remind myself of that everyday. I have a place to live. I joined a gym and am enjoying that a lot. My pets are healthy and so am I (blood pressure is remarkably low at around 110/60, despite the stress I've had over the last, say two years).

The last few months (especially) have made me question just about every area of my life and then some. Relationships, friendships, dating, career, belief systems, values, my strengths and weaknesses, family - you name it, I've reflected on it. I've noticed what's important to me in almost all these areas has shifted pretty dramatically as has what I will and will not tolerate anymore. I'm different. The past couple of years have really changes a lot about me. It's not good or bad change - it is just different. And I don't think the changing and reflecting is quite over yet. I, along with a lot of people around me, are still in the middle of a big storm. And I'm not sure what things will look like when its all over. Except I'm fairly confident I'll still be in one piece with the Zoo in tow.

Why not "happy'? To me there is a carefree, effortless bliss about happiness. Like feeling the sun on your face on a warm spring day. It's an excitable feeling along with elements of joy and calm. Being happy is also about feeling safe, secure and comfortable.

Right now, there is a lot of uncertainty for me, as well as the people and city around me. It's like a fog. To manage, I am constantly trying to figure out how much I can pack in a day, fight being tired and take care of everything (including the hounds and a major change in schedule and routine for them). I am running numbers in my head all the time and being anally careful about everything I eat, use, spend money and time on etc. I'm trying to pack in as much as I can into every minute of everyday. I'm like Dustin Hoffman in "Rain Man", always calculating something - time, space, numbers, money (although I don't watch Wheel of Fortune). While I am not "on the edge" of the cliff anymore, I know it hasn't moved that far away from where I am standing. I need to keep at things and stay ahead of the game so that I can avoid going back to the edge, if at all possible.

I think people sometimes are baffled when you can't tell them you are "happy" and that things are simply okay or average. It can make some people feel like they need to fix something for you, and others perhaps aren't comfortable because it's a bit messy, less easy. In my youth I probably would have catered to their discomfort a bit more and would choose language that would make them feel more okay ("Things are great, I am great"). Now I'm more of a realist. And I can tell that makes some people unsettled. But whatever - I don't have the time or energy to deal with that.

I do have moments of excitement. I have days where I gleefully turn up a good song in the car and sing my heart out. I am sleeping well - a noted difference from this time last year. I am learning I can get by with a lot less than I thought, and I have definitely learned that my mental health and well being is not worth trading for a high salary, free lunch or anything else. Lately I have found I am more able to "live in the moment", something I've struggled with most of my life. So while I can't rubber stamp "happy" on my life right now, things are better in someways than they've been in awhile. Knock on wood.

Where's Lauren?

*waves*

I'm over here.

I've been absent awhile. I know. I have about 3-4 blog posts on a range of topics half written, waiting for me to be inspired to finish them. That inspiration has been buried under an avalanche of curveballs that seem to continue to be sent my way. I have high hopes for 2016 because I am SO done with this year.

I recently have gone through my second job loss this year, and this time around Calgary's economy is further in the toilet than it was in June, by a long shot. In fact I think in many regards, someone has flushed the toilet and closed the lid. It's both terrifying and motivating depending on the day or even time of day you ask me.

I'm looking for work: something that is the right fit and gets me excited. At the same time, I'm also working to build up my business, Write.Brand.Image. I'm fortunate that I already have a few small projects to work on, although I know I will need to increase that a lot more to be able to stay afloat. I've thought about relocation but I am just not sure I am ready for that yet. For now I'm going to concentrate on growing my business and considering all the options out there.

There are a lot of people here out of work. Thousands and thousands of workers (120,000 ish?) at all levels, across the province. Suicide is up 30% this year. Engineers, project managers, administrative assistants, oilfield workers, trades. I made the mistake of reading "the comments" on a few articles on the subject of layoffs and our economy. There is a sentiment out there that Calgarians somehow deserved this; that so many of us "oil workers" have not planned for a rainy day and have been living beyond our means (so not true on many levels). Many of the unemployed aren't even oil and gas workers (me!) but the trickle down effect is already well underway.

There is also this comment section notion that many of the unemployed should go and work in retail or fast food jut to have some money coming in. From what I've heard though, the service industry isn't wanting to hirer many of those out of work 'office types" because they know many won't stay in those roles. It's true. Frustrating for all, but true. In the office world, there are a fair number of really junior roles being posted for probably half or a third of what people were making a year ago. Even those with extensive experience willing to work at reduced rates are not getting hired, probably for the same reason they can't get the service industry jobs. It's no wonder people are feeling less than positive.

In my case, I've been a bit overwhelmed by the generosity and kind, motivating and constructively helpful words several people have sent my way over the last few weeks. I had a couple of pretty low points but because of these caring folks, I've rallied back and feel I'm in the best position to move forward and kick some butt in 2016.

As a public service announcement, if you know people who are struggling with job loss or looming job loss, reach out and say hello to them. Listen. Don't try to fix their problems because you probably can't. Avoid the cliches like "everything happens for a reason..." and "this will make you so much stronger" or "at least xxxx hasn't happened to you" or "lots of other people are unemployed too". Encourage but don't over cheerlead. Buy them a coffee. Offer them a brief distraction. Invite them for dinner. Do things that give them hope and help them see real options. Offer specific help like watching their kids or pets or giving them a ride somewhere because they probably won't want to ask for help. Let them know you are thinking about them. And, again, listen.

What would the ten year old you think of your life?

When I was ten, sitting in my mom's car while she ran into my aunt's house to get something during a snowstorm, a song was playing on the radio. I decided at that moment that it would be the song I'd dance to for the first dance of my wedding. The song? Chicago's "You're the inspiration". It gave me chills and was the most romantic thing I had ever heard.

I was driving home the other night, listening to the radio and that song came on. I smiled as I felt the nostalgia creep in. It still kind of gives me goosebumps and stirs the romantic in me. I thought about ten year old me, in love with being in love, believing in romance and dreaming about someday getting married. I felt a little sad; I wondered for a moment if I had let her down by not getting married. And it got me thinking - what would the ten year old me, think of the almost forty year old me?

Being ten is a cool age. You aren't a little kid anymore, but for most ten year olds, you have no idea about the angst-filled, possibly awkward years just around the corner. Ten year olds start to want a healthy distance from parents and family and gravitate towards their friends - and greater independence, but it is still pretty balanced. You have some pretty solid ideas and dreams about the future based on what you see in the world around you.

When I was ten, I knew for sure I as a grown-up I was going to be a journalist with a weekly column where I'd write about my life and anything I found interesting. It was going to be a funny column, similar to what syndicated columnist Dave Barry did (which I read religiously). I was also going to be married although the groom was undetermined and changed frequently, alternating between Toronto Blue Jays, actors and the occasional boy in my school (I had a phase where I loved any boy name Troy, followed by a similar phase where I loved any boy named Kevin).

Shannon a.k.a Shanny

As a ten year old, I loved animals. We lost our family dog that year, at the ripe old age of 15. I vowed to one day have many pets that I would love with all my heart and soul. I was definitely a kid who loved a lot of things deeply and felt a strong need to protect the things that I cared about, to make sure they were always okay. I had strong opinions about fairness, justice and people doing the right thing, being good to each other. I often shared my passionate opinions on current events with my mother and grandparents which frequently lead to my mother remarking that I had such a strong sense of right and wrong and views on justice and she wasn't entirely sure where those came from.

Nothing made me happier at ten than to be reading. If my mom told me to go play outside, I'd often bring a book and read outside instead (probably not what she had in mind). I devoured books, magazines and newsletters. I read books about serial killers (my mom was a little concerned), studied the criminal code of Canada (my mom was a little relieved) and read every Saturday Star from cover to cover. I loved politics, law, medical and lifestyle stories. I also enjoyed fiction and became quite emotionally involved with the characters.

A close second pastime to reading was riding my bike. I had an awesome sparkly blue ten-speed that I'd cruise around the neighbourhood on. I especially liked doing it after swimming as my hair, in the wind created by my super fast bike riding skills, would poof to epic, lion's mane proportions. Which I thought was super cool.

So what would this ten year old kid think of me and my life now?

Well she'd be bummed about the marriage thing. Although she wouldn't have wanted to be divorced either so she'd probably think a good thing I didn't marry any of my previous long term partners. That said, I think she'd be confused as to why I'm not "better" at love and relationships, given how much I care about the people in my life and how deep my feelings often are. She wouldn't want me to settle though, and she'd want me to keep looking for a person who loved me exactly as I am. Because ten year olds are both cheesy and wise.

She'd be over the moon about The Zoo. She's think two cats and two dogs are awesome and that I am very lucky to have them to love. Ten year olds have a knack for overlooking litter boxes, chewed things and would probably like the idea of getting a dog paw in the head at 7 am like I did this morning.

Ten year old Lauren would love the fact that I've lived downtown in a couple of cities. I know when I was a kid I always pictured being that independent career woman living in the city, working in an office building. She wouldn't understand my job, although with some explanation she'd approve given the writing element and the chance to "be in charge" and lead people. As a-super-ultra-mega shy kid, I always admired those who had the confidence to lead and be outspoken and I hoped someday I'd get over my shyness to do the same, as I knew I had it in me.



Other things she'd like? She'd think social media is awesome. And the Internet. I remember being in a music store mid 80s, the era of the mixed tape and thinking, why can there be a machine in the store that lets you buy all the songs you like off of albums and put them onto one or two cassettes. You know, instead of trying to make badly recorded compilations at home. I know; I could have been rich if I got that idea to market first. But I digress.

I think generally, ten year old Lauren would be okay with forty year old me. She'd think I'm really old, but that aside, she'd judge me a lot less harshly than I judge forty year old Lauren. When we were ten, we were more okay with mistakes and failure. Actually, while I knew what the word meant, I am not sure I really knew what failure felt like at ten. Making a mistake was more acceptable, because we were supposed to be learning and we weren't supposed to know everything about everything. We focused on that learning rather than dwelling on the errors.

When we were ten, we did things because they were fun, because we were interested in them and sometimes because our parents said you have to. We loved unconditionally. We had lofty dreams. We were excited about the future. We trusted. We thought going for ice cream was a fun night out. We were also a hell of a lot better at living in the moment and appreciating what we did have, rather than what we didn't. I'm not sure at what age we change the rules on ourselves or why, but it's kind of too bad that we do.

I think I'm going to make more of an effort to try to view some of life's ups and downs from the perspective of 10 year old Lauren. She might teach forty year old Lauren a thing or two.

Calgary

Nine years ago today was one of the biggest days of my life. I got on a plane with two suitcases and a heavy carry-on in tow and left Toronto for the final time as a "resident". (Note: do not try to accidentally take a wrench through security at an airport. They don't like that and the moving excuse doesn't help). My furniture had left three days earlier, and would eventually (and I mean eventually) make it's way west as well.

I often get asked the question "Was it a job or a man?" that made me move out here. It wasn't either. Sure, my employer at the time was looking to fill a position out here and they had asked several times if I would consider moving, but it wasn't ever something they were going to make me do. In fact, I had said no a good solid six weeks in a row to the suggestion. Why would anyone want to move to Calgary? I had never been west of Windsor and will admit I was the typical Ontarian, believing the world revolved around Toronto and its placement in the Centre of the Universe. (Most Ontarians don't realize they look at the world this way until they go and live somewhere else). I had no interest in moving, let alone to Calgary. All I knew about Calgary was that they had cows there (or nearby) and had hosted the Olympics in 1988.

Then I started to give it more thought. All of my friends were coupled and/or getting married, moving to the suburbs and talking about having kids. I wasn't there yet at all. I was a couple of years into being single after two serious relationships. My few remaining single friends seemed to be busy all the time with other things and I felt like my social circle was really shrinking. I was starting to feel like I was in a bit of a rut, and wondered if maybe a change of scenery might help. I recognized that it would push me well outside my comfort zone, but it also could be an adventure. Still, Calgary was far and I didn't know anyone.

It was summer and I had the routine of occasionally packing my laundry up in my car and driving out to my Mom's house to do it. This was mostly because I could sit by the pool on a nice day and swim while the laundering was in process. It was also because I could "shop" for things in her house like paper towels, toilet paper and bottles of wine (sorry, Mom). She was rarely there in the summer, and it was a pretty quiet, relaxing way to spend an afternoon. One particular weekend in early August I had such a 'Laundry Day". As I sat by the pool, my thoughts drifted to the whole idea of Calgary again. That particular weekend I was pretty fed up with a few people in my life for canceling plans. I sat and contemplated what life in a new city would be like. I still wasn't sure if the move made sense or if I was up to the challenge. At some point in the afternoon I got a little bored and decided to go through this box of memorabilia and documents my Mom has. I had been through it a million times before - it had things like my adoption certificate, her marriage license, my Dad's death certificate. It also had things like our old family dog Shannon's hairbrush and small keepsakes my brother and I had received as infants. As I rummaged, I noticed a small white box I had never seen before with my name on it. Weird. I was nosy enough I thought I had seen everything. Inside the white cardboard box there was a velvet box. I opened that up. And in that box I found a coin - a commemorative coin from 1975 that someone had given my parents to mark my arrival. Here's the kicker. The coin was commemorating Calgary's centennial.The following Monday I went into work and sent my boss an email: "Let's talk about this Calgary thing.".

Days later, they had me on a plane to visit Calgary for the first time, to help get a new food service account set up (SAIT, which is where years later, I am now working in a different capacity for the actual institution). My first trip out, my plane touched down on a runway with cows along one side of it. Yep, they indeed had a lot of cows in this city (I don't think they have them by the airport anymore though). I made several trips back and forth between Calgary and Toronto for a couple of months while planning the move, which officially happened the Tuesday after Thanksgiving.

And here we are, nine years later. So much has happened. I can honestly say I would not be half the person I am today had I not made the move here. To say (as I did earlier) that the move would push me outside of my comfort zone was a huge understatement. I had to find my way in a new city, make new friends and establish a new life. I gained a confidence and knowledge that far exceeded my expectations. I knew I'd be better for making the move. I didn't realize how much better. Career wise, there is no way I'd be doing as well in Toronto for a variety of reasons. The move also lead me down the path to becoming a kidney donor, which was another life changing, confidence boosting, learning experience of an event. So much has happened in the last nine years, from people to changes to accomplishments. I'm very proud of myself for taking a chance, for believing that this was something I could do, and do well. For believing in myself.

I'm not sure I believe that everything happens for a reason, in some arbitrary, fate driven way, but I do think that sometimes the least expected path has the greatest rewards.

Perspective

I've been learning a lot this week about perspective and how different mine can be from that of others. In some cases, having a good discussion about the other person's outlook on thing can bring clarity, understanding and acceptance. I may not completely see things their way but I can accept how events made them think and feel, and what they saw as the important issue, and how that may have differed from my initial take on things.

In another case, delving deeper into the other person's view on things has actually caused more confusion, and has made me realize we are further apart on things in life than I thought. Some people are so sure their perspective is the only way of looking at things, that they shut out all the alternatives and feelings of others involved. It's funny, but  dealing with this latter situation, has made me realize I needed to be more aware and open minded about the other person's perspective in the first situation, and that I was in the wrong.

Cryptic right?

It is. In the first situation, I realized that I was making things more about me than they should have been and that in one area, I wasn't being completely truthful in how I viewed events - not with myself or with the other person. A molehill became a mountain because of it and I regret that a lot. I reacted in a way that wasn't in keeping with who I am, or how I treat people and I made it worse by not owning my mistake.

In the second situation, the other party basically did the same thing to me. When confronted with a concern I had with their behaviour and how they were treating me, they insisted all the problems were because of me and couldn't see how they were contributing to the issue, or how they could be doing things differently. They blamed me for how I was feeling. I recognized this and more importantly how it made me feel. While these two situations were not related at all, it opened my eyes to how I could be doing things differently. I've always thought I was pretty good at seeing both sides of a dispute or issue, but I can see now where I'm maybe a little more egocentric in some situations than I should be. A little too black and white. And not empathetic enough.

Lessons, lessons everywhere.

Trust

Trust is a funny thing. It's kind of like a gas tank on a car. We all have one. Some of us cruise around life with it pretty full all the time. Others seem to be running on empty for multiple periods of their lives. A lot of our ability to refill or top up our tanks comes from being able to on one hand, hone our instincts as to who to trust while on the other hand being able to see someone else's perspective, forgive and let go. It also requires us to see everyone as an individual, and not paint people with the same brush as those you may have known before. Not the easiest thing to do at times, but imperative if you ever want to have any kind of meaningful human interaction, and also for you to be able to function at full capacity in the world.

The Internet says trust is believing that the person who is trusted will do what is expected. It starts at the family and grows to others. The development of basic trust is the first state psycho-social development occurring, or failing, during the first two years of life. Success results in feelings of security, trust, and optimism, while failure leads towards an orientation of insecurity and mistrust possibly resulting in attachment disorders.

Assuming you make it past this phase successfully, things can still certainly happen later in life that can make us find it difficult to trust others. Friendships gone wrong, bad co-worker or employer relationships. Bad things sometimes happen to us, and it can take a lot out of our trust supply tank.

This year I got to know a few people who had a hard time trusting. I can empathize; I myself have had periods where I was running low on trust. Some had very good reasons to not trust. One in particular really did. I think he wanted to but just couldn't get beyond the past. It sadly ended up costing us our friendship which I really wish had not happened. But my take-away (there is always a takeaway) is that because of him, I actually learned to trust more and the importance of trusting again. Events of the last couple of years had me doubting a lot of things - my instincts about people, relationships and how to navigate all that stuff. His vulnerability and honesty about trust issues allowed me to feel safe opening up to him and allowed me to start trusting other people and myself more. I also saw the flip-side where a complete inability to trust, even people who were quite loyal and trustworthy (like me),could paralyze a person, limiting opportunity and effectively, happiness. I also learned that only you can top up your own tank -  surrounding yourself with honest, good people helps, but that on its own isn't enough. You are always going to encounter people who aren't truthful, However, by shutting everyone out to protect yourself, you can really miss out on a lot of great people, experiences and opportunities. And nobody wins.

I think this was a big lesson for me this year (there have certainly been a lot of lessons), and one I really needed to go through. I feel like this last year has been an unexpected learning curve, and I'm only somewhere in the middle of it now. There is something to be said for the mid-life crisis myth actually being a thing (and does not necessarily manifest itself only through buying a sports car). Interesting.

Office Bullies

As part of my new professional gig, I recently had to complete a half-day course on workplace safety. Most “preferred” employers do these kinds of mandatory sessions to “protect and educate” their workforce from things like sexual harassment, workplace bullying and general safety issues. There is also obviously an element of reducing their liabilities as an employer should any of these bad things happen.

As I sat through the workplace bullying portion of the session and heard all about the legislation that is in place in most provinces to prevent it, and the steps people can take if they face bullying, I was really frustrated. Here’s why: anti-bullying training does not work. It does not prevent bullying nor does it protect people from being bullied in the workplace. The worst part of it is that it makes those unaffected by bullying feel like there is nothing to worry about, like it isn’t an ever-growing problem in our office and work spaces that we should all be looking more closely at. And for those who have experienced bullying, it makes it seem like it is something that is super easy to prevent/fix. It's not.

I have been working since I was 14 years old. In that time I’ve had probably eight or nine full or part-time jobs. And I have been a front row witness to bullying – or worse – a victim of it, in six of those jobs. Canadian stats say that one person in six has been bullied and one in five has witnessed a co-worker being bullied – I kind of think it’s higher but people either don't recognize it or aren't willing to admit it.

Workplace bullying comes in many forms – from quiet manipulation and exclusion to mind games to full-out yelling, emotional abuse and in some cases, physical altercations. The best bullies draw from all of these tactics over time. I’ve been yelled at so loudly, walls shook. I had a boss “jokingly” put me in a headlock and whisper “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”. I’ve seen a senior executive berate my manager in front of an audience for over 10 minutes, and then laugh and joke like nothing had happened. I’ve watched coworkers run to the restroom in tears – or simply call in sick repeatedly to avoid the toxic environment on the days where they just couldn’t handle it. I personally have sat in my office and cried for an hour. And I don’t cry at work.

At one particular job, I initially just heard rumours of certain senior leaders being bullies. They always seemed really nice when I interacted with them, so I was surprised to hear these other perspectives. If you don’t see it, it must not be true, right? Then over time, more “proof” of the bulling began to emerge. But because it wasn’t directly affecting me, I’d just stand back and think things like “they must just have a personality conflict” or “If they performed better, they wouldn’t be treated so poorly”. The problem with that approach is that eventually you may become the target (as I did). And then you are left feeling guilty for not believing it was happening to others or worse, justifying their abuse, on top of the stress of suddenly being in the line of fire.

I’ve been to probably a half dozen anti-bullying sessions put on by employers over the years. The session facilitators will tell you that bullying erodes workplace culture. It sure does. They will also tell you that people will leave; they will “vote against bullying with their feet”, and walk out the door, affecting employee retention. In my experience that is not the case at all. Sure, a few people leave. But most of us have rent or mortgages to pay. A family to feed. Car payments. Picking up and leaving isn’t that simple. So we stay. And whether we are bystanders or the target of the bullies ourselves, we get stuck. Our confidence shrinks. For people like me who have seen significant bullying at many workplaces, we start to think its “normal” and that we will encounter it wherever we go. People actually reinforce this idea too, saying things like “you can’t escape it, it’s everywhere.” So we stay and hope that things get better. We try to fly under the radar and not be a target. In some cases, we may adopt some bullying tendencies ourselves as a defense mechanism (the sink or swim mentality). And we desperately hang on to the good days or moments to try to justify the bad ones.

What should a person do when faced with bullying? The anti-bullying guides will say “Go to HR”. The problem with that (in many cases) is that bullying itself is cultural within that organization. Very often, some of the biggest bullies (or condoners of bullying) sit on the executive team. (Oh and P.S.: they don’t think they are bullies – usually, although some special do take pride in how they manipulate their people). Now, I’m not saying everyone at the executive level is a bully. However in the organizations where I’ve seen issues, there has been at least a couple of senior level bullies for sure and a handful of others who clearly turned a blind eye to the behaviours of their peers. This effectively renders HR to be pretty useless. They usually want to help, but they can’t (other than documenting it) without facing repercussions themselves. Employees in organizations where bullying occurs quickly learn this, and many don’t even try to seek out a resolution. We simply adapt our behaviours to survive.

One morning I was walking back to the office after a 7 a.m. dentist appointment. Yes, 7 a.m. I had booked it super early so that I would minimize time away from the office, and keep certain people calm. Taking the day off wasn’t an option either for the same reasons. So here I was, a little before 8:30 a.m. heading back to work. I checked my email as I walked and saw that there were several from one of the most senior executives, who was getting increasingly angry that I was not responding to his non-urgent inquiries (he knew where I was but didn’t care). His email tone and language suggested I was not taking my job seriously, that I didn’t have a strong enough work ethic and that I wasn’t capable of holding the role that I held. It was rude, belittling, abusive and offensive. It occurred to me at that moment that if this were a domestic relationship or even one with a platonic friend, would this treatment be acceptable? Of course not. So why is it “okay” if we are getting paid while it happens?

Workplace bullying is a big problem. It is happening despite all the learning sessions and legislation we put in place. Why? Part of the issue is that people just don’t talk about it. They are afraid to. The people that “get out” of the toxic work environments are just happy to have escaped and want to leave it behind them. Other people stay in the negative workplace environments and many get worn down so much that they simply can’t talk about it – they are just trying to get by. And other people are either unaware, or unwilling to admit that these behaviours occur. Bullying instances become justified as a method of dealing with “performance issues” or personality conflicts and aren’t addressed for what they actually are. The bullying is also difficult to prove or recognize, even when there are witnesses to the shaming, yelling and emotional abuse, often coming down to a one person’s word against another’s. Bullies are often high performers, which also adds to the likelihood that their actions may not face significant consequences from senior management (if the bullies themselves are not senior management).

What’s the solution? I don’t entirely know. I believe talking more openly about it is a start. Over the last few decades there has been a real shift around how workplaces deal with sexual harassment and a lot of that came from people speaking out about their experiences and changing how people think. There is a lot of victim blaming that happens too and that is certainly something that needs to be addressed. I think it’s also important that even when it doesn’t directly affect us, we need to stand up and say something when we see it. Give people support where they need it. Stop telling people being bullied that “it happens everywhere”. Bullying existing elsewhere does not make it right or okay to treat someone badly. Ever. Telling that to someone who is going through that just minimizes their feelings and further isolates them. We need to focus on actually empowering people as to how to handle being bullied (and I’m not talking about how to report it to HR) and not make them feel ashamed.

The good news, for me, is that I’m starting to learn that workplace bullying doesn’t actually happen everywhere. I have yet to figure out what makes some workplaces different in this regard (it isn’t the anti-bullying courses – I can tell you that much). I do think a lot of it has to do with the leadership at the top and how they treat people, and that in turn sets an example for everyone else to follow or they won’t fit in. Maybe its transparency too – the same leaders tend to admit publicly when there is an issue and deal with it effectively rather than deny that bullying has occurred. Whatever the reason, it’s definitely worth figuring out the commonalities in positive workplaces to determine how it can be replicated elsewhere, hopefully reducing the prevalence of workplace bullying.

Favourite Birthdays

We all have birthdays - that's certainly not unique. However for most people, their "favourite" birthday(s) are a little more individual. For those of you thinking "I don't have a favourite" - you probably do have a few if you give it some thought.

What makes a particular birthday a favourite? A lot of personal factors probably go into that. What happened that year, was there a fun celebration or activity, was it a particular milestone? Did turning a certain age have a specific meaning in the outside world? Did people remember?

For me, my top three birthdays were my 10th, 18th and 30th birthdays. No particular order.

My 10th was exciting because I was double digits (finally) and got every single thing I wanted, right down to the "grandpa hat", a sleepover party with about 7 friends (my poor parents) and a chocolate chip Snackin' Cake.

My 30th was awesome because I was so full of hope and excitement about a new "first number" meaning a better, more interesting life. I was desperately trying to flee the ups and downs of my 20s. In the year leading up to my 30th, I had really made some changes in my life and had a much better understanding of who I was, and was anxious to apply these new learnings to a whole new decade of living. At the time, I was also unemployed and really wanted to move forward in my career and life in a more meaningful way. At about 4:30 on the afternoon of my 30th, I received a call offering me a new regional marketing manager role with a food service contractor. That position would give me the opportunity to move to Calgary less than a year later - which was one of the smartest, rewarding decisions I've made which setting off a chain of events I never could have envisioned.

That leaves my 18th birthday. What made that exciting? Not only was I eligible to finally vote but the federal government had taken it one step further and called its 35th general election (just for my benefit I'm sure) for a mere five days after my birthday. I had followed politics in the newspaper since the Canadian Constitution Act in 1982 (yes, I was 7 when I started getting interested). I was intrigued not only by the issues and debates, but how riled up seemingly normal people got about the people running our country. I was fascinated by our political system and some of the more well known figures and characters who had made careers and names for themselves in this field. I was also turning 18, full of ideas as to what needed to be changed and upheld in our world and how I might make a difference with my one, single vote. I had a deep appreciation (thanks, high school history classes!) of how having the ability to vote was not something everyone else had in the world. It was something that people fought for their whole lives, and of course in some cases died over - because it was that important to have that right. So I was thrilled that I could celebrate my 18th birthday by exercising my right to vote. When I gleefully showed up five days later at the polling station, one of the ladies there pointed out to my (bewildered) mother that she had never seen someone so excited to vote as I was. Incidentally, my election pick won (although my selection criteria was not very conventional).

When I was in high school, part of my master plan and life timeline was to become Prime Minister at 40. While it's fairly likely that is not going to happen (I think there is some kind of rule where you have to be on the ballot), it somewhat amuses me that another federal election is looming, with an Election Day set for the day before my birthday. It's definitely handy because I wont have to calculate how many months - weeks - days away my birthday is. The media will essentially be (constantly) doing that for me. Fantastic. While I'm far less gleeful and idealistic this time around about voting, I absolutely will be sure to cast my ballot. That said, will the election contribute to whether or not my 40th becomes a favourite?

Probably not. Ha.

The Magical Mystical Dude

There is a myth in our world about this magical mystical dude. Actually, there are supposed to be several magical, mystical dudes out there, and of that several, one has been specifically designed to be "the one" for you. Some call these mysterious creatures soul mates. Others refer to these elusive unicorns in catchier lingo like "Mr. Right". When you meet him you are just supposed to "know it" (he'll "complete you" after all). And then, the rest, as they say, is history.

Here's the reality. This magic mystical dude does not exist out there for everyone. Not everyone is going to meet one person, preferably whilst in their 20's, marry and spend happily-every-after with them. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Once upon a time I believed wholeheartedly in the magical mystical dude. I was going to find mine, capture him, woo him with my many charms and we'd live happily ever after. I bought the dream the rom-coms sell us. Then I grew up and realized, while for some people the magical mystical dude is a real thing, for me and a lot of other people, he's not.

Someone recently called me a cynic - and I want to be clear that I'm not. I believe in the good in people and am highly optimistic about pretty much everything. I believe in love and passion.  I believe in the importance of healthy adult relationships. I think soulmates are real, although the definition isn't what a lot of people think. I've even been in love a few times (gasp! you can be in love more than once?!?) and I know I will be in love again before my time here is done. I'm a Libra after all, and I think we are supposed to be in love with being in love. Or something.

The idea that there is one person out there for everyone, that I haven't found my magic mystical dude and therefore need to keep searching, as though my life depends on it, is silly. Like he is out there - I just need to look harder for him or I'll miss out. Really?

I've had some great relationships that didn't last forever - but I wouldn't change those experiences for anything. I'd like to assure everyone who has concern for older single folks that we are not incomplete because we don't have our very own magical mystery dudes. I haven't missed anything. I have a fantastic career, good people in my life, my very own zoo, my own house and a plethora of great life moments (with more on the way). My life is pretty rich.

I've been thinking about this post and the idea of the magical mystical dude for quite awhile. Dating when you are 40-ish is different than dating when you are 25. People aren't looking to "build a life" together the same way they perhaps were in their younger years. I think ultimately, people are looking for support, companionship and chemistry. Commitment and what that looks like varies from person to person, couple to couple. There isn't a magic formula or a neat little box things fit into. Many people my age who are "dating" have been divorced and/or have had significant relationships end. Kids are often involved. People are leery of jumping into new living arrangements or marriage. Not because we are cynics - because priorities and needs have shifted. If you are lucky you find a great person who is looking for, needing and wanting similar things, who you can spend time with - whatever that looks like. Live more in the moment. There is less of an end game than when you are younger. Or a another kind of one. Things are different - and again, it's totally okay that is the case.

Now granted she isn't my most favourite person, but while I was pondering this topic, someone shared this post by Arlene Dickinson on Facebook. And I think it makes a good point and articulates a lot of what I've been feeling and witnessing as a single person who doesn't have the magical mystical dude in her life.

I think as we get older, there are some areas of our lives (and it's different for everyone) where we don't have the luxury of wearing the rose-coloured glasses all the time. Being realistic and managing expectations (both your own and others) is not the same thing as cynicism or pessimism. It is normal to adapt expectations too. We do in our careers, our friendships and family relationships - and no one would ever think to call that pessimistic or "settling".

I'm happy. I have what I need right now. And while I love that well-meaning, super-awesome friends wanted me to find my magical mystical dude and some kind of happily-ever-after traditional relationship, and are sad that I haven't, please know I'm doing just fine.

The Ghost of Girlfriends Past

For the past year and a half I've been dating, after the demise of a six year relationship. Dating in your almost-40's is a way different beast than dating in your late 20's, early 30's. We are of an age where we all have significant relationships in our past and a lot of the things (kids, divorce, bad break ups, good breakups) that go with it.

It is what it is and I've always believed our pasts make us who we are today - they make us stronger, wiser and hopefully more self aware. We have all made mistakes that we've move on from, we have learned about ourselves - what is important, what isn't, and for many of us in the dating world, we have found our priorities are maybe a bit different than they one were. For example, I feel like dating at this age is less about finding the person you are going to marry (and procreate with if thats your thing) than it is about finding someone you can spend your off time with. Some one you can watch a movie or try new restaurants with. Go on trips together. It's not that people aren't looking for a commitment, its just the end game seems different somehow.

The other big thing I've noticed this time around is that you aren't just meeting/dating the person in front of you, you are often also dating their past. So many of the men I've gone out with in the last year - whether it be for a couple of dates or a few months, judge you and your behaviours based on exes they have dated before (even if you are very different people). For example, one gentleman, who frequently positioned himself as being very open minded, was very negative about anyone who wanted to have more than two boozy drinks in an evening. This was because his a previous partner had consumed too much alcohol overtime she went out. I appreciate that would have been difficult to deal with, however three drinks in one evening does not an alcoholic make. For the record it was okay for him to have more than three.

Months later I met another guy. Our first date was coffee. He was lovely - normal, funny, kind. All the right things. A week or so later we went out for dinner. Again, he was considerate, warm and sweet. The next day in fact we met again for coffee. I was feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time that there might be something growing between us. We set tentative plans for the following weekend. Over the next few days he grew very distant and wouldn't respond to texts (I only sent a couple with no response -I am not crazy). At the end of the wrk week, he finally responds that he didn't want to see me again because I hadn't deleted my profile from a dating site and that I was always active on the site (I wasn't - I have a job and am actually quite busy). He said a previous girl he had dated for a month or so had lied to him and said she wasn't dating anyone else but actually had been. Again, crappy for him but it seemed like he was pre-emptively getting rid of me because he was sure I'd do the same. And for the record, he never asked me if I was seeing others nor was there any talk of exclusivity after our there dates. His assumptions about me were completely based on actions of some other woman.

These are just two examples of many. I understand - getting hurt is not fun. Having people lie to you or make irresponsible decisions repeatedly that affects you is terrible. And it can be hard to get over. But no two people are alike. Having a drink doesn't make me a boozer. Having a male friend wouldn't make me a cheater. Having a credit card doesn't make me financial irresponsible. That's not how it works.

I am an individual. I am not your ex-girlfriend. I might not be perfect (far from it actually) - but I'd much prefer to be judged on my own flaws and merits rather than those of other people you used to know. It kind of makes sense, no?

Back to blogging

I haven't written in awhile. I'd like to say its because I've been galavanting all over the world with Prince Charming, but alas its more like things are crazy at work and outside of work there has been just enough chaos that things have seemed a little overwhelming. I don't write when I'm really overwhelmed - it's like the ultimate writer's block.

I thought its time to rearrange some priorities in my world and at the very least get back into updating this list. My life balance has been getting a little out of whack and I need to fix that. Not that that is a list item though :)

I haven't looked at the list in awhile and was curious to see how I'm doing with it. Turns out I have made some headway. Who knew? See below in pink!

1. Write everyday week (blog!) Okay, I need to work on this. Not because I said I would but because its something I love to do (writing) and I always feel better after I do.
2. Buy a new bicycle. Maybe in the Spring
3. Go back to school. No news here although I've given it a lot more thought and a smidgen of research.
4. Run a 5KM 10km run event
5. Do at least one random act of kindness every month. In January, I did random anonymous cards for people at work - even some people I didn't know well that just told them they were awesome. One lady went around the office telling people she thought she had a stalker and it was creepy. There is also a homeless guy that sits a block away from the office everyday. He always gives everyone a big smile and seems pretty nice. I gave him 5 dollars - I rarely have cash (like three times a year?) so it was nice to have something to give him.
6. Mail a letter a week just because. #fail. I haven't done this at all. I haven't even bought stamps
7. Read a book a month. This I'm sort of on track for. I seem to read a lot one week then nothing for a few more. Much like writing, its something I feel so good about when I do it, so I should make more time for it.
8. Take golf lessons. Hopefully this summer.
9. Plant a veggie garden.
10. Do a public speaking gig.  Done!
11. Visit Napa Valley. 
12. Go to Vegas. Booked! Might be going twice actually.
13. Travel to Ireland. 
14. Take a trip to Vancouver. Booked! Going in early March
15. See Montreal. 
16. Go to Italy. 
17. Visit Boston.
18. Explore Chicago.
19. See San Francisco.
20. Take a culinary class.
21. Start a wine collection. I've ordered a few batches through my wine club. In about four months I'll start receiving the selections. I guess I should start thinking about that wine fridge.
22. Buy a wine fridge.
23. Learn more about wine.
24. Learn to hang a picture. Properly.
25. Find a new volunteer gig. I have one tentatively - although i missed the first meeting because of a headache
26. Learn how to put air in my tires
27. Learn how to change a tire.
28. Hit 25 blood donations (I was at 20 in October). This is on hold. I might be able to squeeze one more in though
29. Sing one song by myself in Karaoke.
30. Become a mentor in a mentoring program.
31. Go for at least one hike in the mountains a month (June-September - I am not crazy).
32. Learn Spanish. At least in a basic conversational way.
33. Finish my company website (the company I own, not the one I work for). 
34. Take a public speaking course.
35. Make fresh pasta.
36. Learn to ride a motorcycle (even a little bit).
37. Walk the dogs more often, even Cricket. I'm working on this. Winter makes it tricky.
38. Lose 10lbs. I should find my scale.
39. Pay off all debt (not including my house and maybe not my car).
40. I'm not saying what this one is. Working on this ;)

It's nice to see I've made some progress even when I feel like I'm just getting by everyday.

More to come...

Childless Women

Recently I've been watching House of Cards on Netflix. There was an episode in the second season that really made me stop and think. And get a little annoyed.

In the story line, the United States Vice President's wife (played by Robin Wright) was being interviewed by a news agency. Now I will preface this by saying that her character and that of her husband Frank Underwood (played by Kevin Spacey), on this show are lacking in moral character by some people's standards. But that isn't really relevant to what in this particular story line had my knickers in a knot.

In the interview, the questions quickly turned to the fact that Mrs. Vice President (and her husband) did not have children (they are in their 40s). The reporter asked her a lot of really hard questions about not having kids. She used words like "sacrifice", "unusual" and "uncommon". Her tone was dripping with the idea that by not having children, the Underwoods were somehow "unnatural" as human beings. She even went as far as to ask her if she "lacked maternal instinct".

I'd like to pretend that this was a far fetched dramatic scene, something conjured up by an overly imaginative Hollywood writer. But the thing is, despite how advanced we think we've become with equality and being politically correct, a lot of the questions asked and things implied on the show, are asked and implied to everyday, real, childless women.

I don't have kids (that I know of). And I probably won't. Does that make me less of a woman? Hell no. Does that make me a less compassionate, less giving, less responsible person? No. When did it become okay to ask childless women countless questions about why they don't have kids? And then go on to judge them?

I have never once asked a person why they decided to have kids. I haven't asked them what the rationale was behind their choice to have them at 30 instead of 40. Its never occurred to me to ask someone what value was there (to them) in having three kids vs. two. I have never judged someone's ability to do a task, hold a job or be effective in a government position (or position of power) based on whether or not they've procreated or how many times. Because it doesn't matter. Just like their race, gender, sexual orientation or breakfast selection or eye colour doesn't matter.

There are a lot of reasons people don't have kids. And a lot of reasons people do. One isn't better than the other. For me, I never really knew either way if I wanted kids. I was totally on the fence. Then I had a couple of relationships in a row where my partner did not want more kids (for the record, being a stepmom was great though). So I didn't have kids. And now I'm single and almost 40 - so I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed. And I am okay with that. But it certainly doesn't make me less of a person or a weirdo or not able to understand the ups and downs of being a parent.

Choosing to be a parent (or not) is very personal. It's not black and white or as simple as "you want kids so you have kids". It can be a can of worms to open for a lot of people, yet well meaning (and/or judgey) people think its okay to open that can of worms whenever the mood strikes them, even if they don't know a person well.

It makes me sad that women can be hugely successful in so many areas of life, but their choice whether or not to be a mother can be something they are evaluated on and that so much importance is still placed on that. Don't get me wrong - being a mother is a wonderful thing and it can be both a tough and rewarding thing to do. But there are a lot of women out there who have chosen not to be mothers (or can't be!) who do many tough and rewarding things too. Maybe it needs to stop being something we use to measure a woman's value.

See You Later, 2014

Here we are. The end of another year. I'm not going to say it was my worst year ever (there have been worse for sure) but this one certainly is not going down as one of the best. It was kind of a year of extremes; I accomplished some things I am pretty proud of, and had some amazing moments. And then on the flip side, there were a lot of craptastic events too. I'd rather focus on the positives (no one wants to come to a pity party anyway) - and there were quite a few.

I became a homeowner. Those of you who knew 30 year old Lauren may know that this was something I wanted to do before I was 40. And look at that - I managed to pull it off. And by myself no less. While it was a stressful experience in a busy market like Calgary, and moving is never awesome, I am really proud of myself for doing it. I love my little house (yes, it suits me) and I like knowing that I have a place for "The Zoo" to live out the rest of their lives.

I had some great travel experiences this year too. I went to Louisiana in the Spring and got to meet, in person, one of my most favourite internet friends of all time and her family. Thankfully, she was not an "attack lesbian", much to the relief of an older person in my life who had been concerned about the internet angle of my trip. Instead, she was just as warm, funny and interesting in real life as she had been in our 6+ years of online friendship. I saw so many sides of Louisiana, from plantations, to New Orleans, to old cemeteries to the bottom of a moonshine jar (never again!). I ate crawfish, gumbo, lots of deep fried goodness and shared a lot of laughs. Good folks for sure - and I know regardless of distance, I have a couple of people in Louisiana who will be lifelong friends.

I took my second trip to NYC. While it didn't start as planned because of a passport blunder on the part of my travelling companion, it was still a wonderful trip. I spent a few days alone in Brooklyn, just exploring (and eating). I did nerdy Lauren things like gleefully visiting the NYC Transit Museum or buying New Yorker stationary/note cards in little bookstores. When my travel friend eventually showed up, we spent days walking around, eating at amazing places, shopping and checking out lots of different neighbourhoods and parks. In an unexpected twist, I barely talk to my travel mate anymore, but the trip still stands as being one of the most fantastic I've had in my life (so far!).

One of the best things that has happened to me is something I've heard happens around this age. No, I didn't become a cougar. Not that thing. I learned to get rid of the negative people in my life or at least minimize their impact on me (because unless you are an assassin, you can't always completely get rid of people). I have a thicker skin, a much better ability to say "yeah...NO" and a greatly reduced capacity for bullshit and drama. I focus my energy on the people who deserve it, not people who demand it. Angry, bitter people who complain all the time? Ain't nobody got time for that.

2014 also saw some old friends I had been less in touch with come back more into the everyday picture for me. The best part about renewing my friendships with them is that they accept me for who I am and think I am great as is. It's liberating to spend time with people who like you "just as you are", that you can be your whole, regular self around. People who don't feel the need to tell you what you should do, how you should act or what you need to change about yourself. It sounds so simple, but this kind of acceptance hasn't been the norm for a lot of my relationship in my life. So it's nice to have a little more of it. And I really appreciate them more now too, as we get older.

If I think back to New Years Eve 2013, spent in Winnipeg in -40 degree weather (I know how to kick off a new year in style!), I never would have anticipated all the ups and downs this year has brought. The changes, the accomplishments, the heartaches, the adventures - most of them weren't even remotely on the radar. It really makes you appreciate how much can happen in a year. I have no idea what 2015 has in store for me but I'm ready to take it for a spin. And to conquer the list, which was really supposed to be the point of this blog, and still is (I will refocus on that, starting tomorrow).

Ready?

My 39th (or 40th?) Christmas Eve

Here we are on Christmas Eve. The dogs are bathed, the house is pretty clean (and not just by my standards either), I have a giant turkey defrosting in the fridge and I'm enjoying a glass of wine by candle light.

I have to admit that a week ago I was starting to doubt my decision to not go home for Christmas. Or my decision to be alone at Christmas. I am not sure which actually. I'd hear a Christmas song and get overly emotional. When people would talk about what they were doing for Christmas, I'd sneak away - partially because it made me sad and partially because I was beginning to get tired of the pity looks I'd get if I said I was hanging out with the dogs over Christmas.

I'm back on track though. It's my last Christmas of my thirties (someone so kindly wrote that in a Christmas card - thank you!). And this is the only one I've spent alone. There are a lot of people who have never had the big family Christmases I've been so fortunate to grow up enjoying. A lot of people haven't had Christmases with fun (and quirky) in-law types either. I've also been able to have several Christmases with a child in the house, in a parent role. I had the opportunity to help make his childhood holiday memories something special. Not everyone gets to do that either and I'm really thankful that I had that chance. Or to have a Christmas, like my special one last year, where I got to spend time with both my amazing adoptive family AND my wonderful birth family, reminding me that I was not only raised by good people, but I come from good people as well.

The last couple of years may have been a bit bumpy for me in spots. But I'm tough. And more importantly I am lucky. Because I have a life that is full of love, opportunity, health and good people. We can never plan how things are going to turn out, and sometimes we need to roll with the punches more than others, or more than we might want to. When we focus on the good in ourselves and the people around us though, we really have everything we need to keep on keeping on.

Merry Christmas and thank you to all my funny, compassionate, supportive and loving family and friends. Even if we are miles apart, I always feel like you are with me.

Giving Tuesday - Kidney Edition

It's "Giving Tuesday", so I cant think of a better thing to talk about than kidney donors.

A few months ago I got an email from a lady named Sarah in the US who had found my blog (the kidney one, not this one). She wanted to reach out as she was in the process of being tested to be a living kidney donor and she wanted to know if she could ask me some questions. We emailed back and forth and eventually became Facebook friends. Yesterday, she donated as part of a six person chain for a lady in Illinois who had been waiting for a kidney since 2008. I exchanged a few messages with her today - she's doing well and is very upbeat. Go Sarah!

Watching Sarah go through the process (from the sidelines, via email and Facebook) really took me back to when I donated. A lot of the initial testing I went through alone, but about a month or two before I donated, I found two people on-line who really helped me cross that finish line in the process. Jody was local and had tested in Calgary to be a non directed donor - her operation ended up being in Saskatoon. The other lady I connected with was Angela. She lived in upstate NY and had also donated anonymously that year. Both of the ladies offered great information that I certainly used before and after the surgery. They definitely made the process better for me because they shared they stuff that doctors don't think of, from personal hygiene tips to what to bring to the hospital. It gave me comfort to know I had two strangers who had been through the experience cheering me on from their corners of the world.

Living donors are a strong willed, determined bunch. We are pretty resilient and roll with things well. Every living donor I have met has a feisty independent streak in them - that's for sure. I truly believe all the donors I know could have donated without the email buddies, Facebook friends and on-line information groups. But the fact that we had access to these wonderful other donors to use as a resource, most of whom became friends as well - I think that made for a richer, more positive experience. It has made me happy that I can pay it forward when people like Sarah have connected with me. When I first signed up for this, I thought I was just giving a kidney. I didn't have a clue that it would become such a big part of my life and bring so many awesome people into my life, even years later.

This time last year, when I told my kidney story on CBC Radio's Definitely Not the Opera (DNTO), I had another lady reach out to talk about kidney donation. She had often thought about donating - when she heard my story it was a catalyst for her to contact her local transplant centre to start the process. We emailed back and forth as she had questions along the way. Yesterday, it occurred to me I hadn't heard from her in awhile so I sent her a note to check in. As it turns out, donating isn't right for her right now. She apologized for wasting my time with so many questions. But here's the thing - it wasn't a waste. She made more of an effort towards donating, or simply even just thinking of helping another person, than many people do in their lifetime. She took the time to educate herself about the process and in turn, shared that knowledge with others in her life. Donating is not for everyone for a variety of reasons and that is okay. The point is she tried and also talked about it - that makes a difference. As a nurse at her centre said, only about 1 and 5 people who go through testing donate - and that includes people who have family members in need.

She ended her email with an interesting and very honest question (which I appreciated):

"Now that you know I'm not doing it.... I am just wondering, do you honestly have no regrets? Or do you just try to stay upbeat to encourage other people? Do you ever worry about the long-term effects? I have really admired your attitude this whole time, and it shows in your blog... but I always wondered, how do you not worry at all?"

I honestly don't have regrets. I know I made the right choice for me. The bulk of the risks are behind me (surgery, complications post surgery) and now all I need to do is focus on staying healthy by eating in moderation, exercising and just taking care of myself they way we all should, regardless of kidney count. The fact is there is a lot about our health we can't control and none of us are guaranteed a long, perfectly healthy life. I do my best to control what I can, where and when I can. I do worry about a lot of things (money, my pets, friends, family, whether or not the cream in my fridge will still be good for my weekend coffee) but to be completely honest, my remaining kidney never makes the list.

I could also not ever regret a decision that has made me more confident, stronger and more aware of who I am and what is important to me. The "kidney thing" as I affectionately call it was a real turning point for me and I wouldn't change that for the world. I have also met so many wonderful people - from surgeons to nurses to donors to recipient and even the "almost donors" - who continue to inspire me everyday. I'm really lucky that I had this opportunity to go  through something like this. I appreciate not everyone does. And I hope I continue to meet new people along the way who are thinking about becoming donors - and that in some small way, I can help them along the way.