Grief

Grief is an extremely personal and lonely journey. It’s an adventure you didn’t want to go on and wish you could have the control to end. It’s a parent on their knees begging for a trade, a sibling crumpled in a heap of tears, a friend thinking it could of been them. 

Each individual needs to find a way to grieve in a way that’s healthy for them. It’s confusing, and messy and you feel like no one understands what you’re going through. You compare your grief to others around you. Maybe you try and tell yourself that you can’t feel sad because someone else must feel worse. We can all be sad. We can all grieve the lives lost even if we never met these young men. And your grieving journey is just as important as any other.

Grief knows no judgement. People going through grief should do the same. Grief is not to be compared, or prioritized, it just is. 

Grief should be a community created with the intention to heal. To laugh after the tears have dried, or to cry when the laughter stops. A place made up of lonely, misunderstood, non judgemental people that find comfort in each other. 

Grief should be a unity of those who’s hands we can still hold. 

Much Love,

Megan

April 6th

For the past 4 years, this has been the worst day. It stands out on any calendar I look at, it randomly creeps into my thoughts throughout the year, and I anticipate it like no other. 

This year it felt as if I thought about April 6th every month. Every month it got a little closer and I got a little more nervous as to how I would feel. Would I be overcome with sadness like I was 4 years ago? Would the day feel like any other? Of course not. With every passing month I worried about my feeling on this day. I obsessed over the “what if’s”. What if I needed to stay in bed all day and cry but I have a son to take care of? What if he sees me crying and it upsets him? What if I’m so busy thinking about putting on a brave face I forget to mourn? 

Death changes your life right at the exact moment someone else’s was stopped. 

April 6th is the worst day. But it’s also a reset. A harsh reminder to be safe while driving, to submerge yourself into the people, places, and things you love. A reason to remember that life can be short, but it doesn’t have to be empty. April 6th is a pivoting point in so many lives. A day of loss, a day of change. A date that will never be forgotten or written incorrectly on a letter. April 6th, every year, is an adjustment. 

Grief is this invisible smoke that creeps up and has the power to suffocate you.  

Today I find tears in my eyes and my chest a little tight. Today is the worst day, but it’s also the best. It’s the best because I know I am not alone. I know so many people out there are remembering our friend, our sister, our granddaughter, our cousin, our niece, our daughter. We are all thinking of her and remembering her spirit. Her determination. Her eyes that were wise beyond their years. Her passion. Her fire. Together, today we remember Syd. This unity is a gift we all have. A community of April 6th survivors that we can all lean on.  

 

Mourning continues long after the colour has returned to our wardrobe. 

Much Love,

Megan

Love

The word love has such a strong punch at the beginning of a relationship. Hearing it from your partner simultaneously makes your heart stop and pound (it doesn’t make sense, don’t try to figure it out.) Why, as the relationship grows, does it not hit you as it leaves your partners lips? 

B and I have been together for three and a half years. We own our own home and have an eight month old son. Those are pretty big milestones and we have accomplished them fairly seamlessly. Oh how I LOVE our relationship. We can bicker, argue, flat out refuse to agree and not once have I ever felt unloved. I’ve never felt like I’m not respected. I’ve never felt like my voice should be quieter then his. I know he feels the same way. 

We are both incredibly stubborn but we are also both incredibly kind. If I’m out of line, he will tell me. If he’s out of line, I’ll tell him. We push each other to be better. I push his to take out the trash and do his dishes and he pushes me to take better care of myself mentally and physically. 

It doesn’t seem to matter how frustrated I get with the garbage overflowing, the man just won’t take it out. I’ve broken down and done it a couple times this past month and he hasn’t even noticed. I just don’t understand how he can spend 5 minuets balancing a protein wrapper on top of the heaping pile and not spend 5 minutes to take the damn thing out. 

I know he gets fiery when I don’t spend a few moments each day to reflect and “check in.” Because I get so snippy when I don’t. When I feel like I’m doing it all and I am at the mercy of a 17lbs human and I have the poor me’s. He can make his workouts a priority and his mental health thrives because of it. I can’t seem to create 20 minutes to myself each day for a little yoga. To him, this makes no sense. To me, ......... just take out the trash. 

We always, always, always say I love you. No matter how many times I asked for the garbage to be brought out, yet it’s still sitting there. No matter how many times he tells me to leave the house a mess and do yoga or have a bath. When he walks out that door to go to work or we lay our heads down at night, we say I love you. 

Because we do. We love each other.

It doesn’t have that punch it used to. My heart doesn’t start and stop at the same time when he says it. It’s more of a comfort now. A warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee. It rolls off our tounges effortlessly, but never insignificantly. We are so lucky our relationship has reached this point. It’s not a lazy, don’t care, wear sweats and only shave in the summer attitude. It’s an understanding. On a really fricken deep level. 

He understands me. Understands my attitude, which lets be real can seem like it’s own person some days. Understands what makes me stressed. Understands what makes me happy. I can jump from one topic to the next which would leave most people dazed and confused and if I asked him, B would tell me exactly the steps my mind took to get there. It’s wild. 

I understand him. I understand his need to weigh all his food before he eats it. I understand his level of commitment to the gym. I understand when he doesn’t hit the weight or the reps he was supposed to how it can ruin his entire day (week.) I understand that he loves me so deeply, loves our son so deeply, that he works himself into a stress ball thinking about money and our future and how he can provide everything he thinks we need. 

We only need each other though. And I know. That’s sooooo lame. Soooo cliche. But it’s true. We balance each other out. I’m either a 1 or a 10 (happy or angry) and he’s always a 5. Okay, so he pretty balanced. But without me he wouldn’t be laughing at 11pm when it’s way past his bed time because I won’t stop tickling him. And yes, it’s really passing him off. He’s sitting at a 5.5 right now. But I love it. I love him. 

Love doesn’t always have to have a punch. It doesn’t always have to skip a beat. If you’re lucky, love will be the rhythm that you move your life to. 

Much Love,

Megan

I had an urge to write today.

I’m feeling good. I did my yoga, applied my makeup and have supper prepped. My adorable little is playing with his pink ball and crawling around leaving a trail of drool. His teeth have doubled this week (3-6) and I have been feeling quite outnumbered. They keep popping through and causing him so much pain. Just when I think I’ve applied the perfect amount of natural numbing cream and the correct teething toy he wanted the balance that was originally require changes. 

So we adapt. 

We try new things, new combinations of old tricks and we hope for the best. That’s been my journey recently. 

It’s been tough but I’m trying to have more self awareness. I’m trying to understand exactly what makes me happy and exactly what makes me sad. Sounds a lot more simple then what the reality has been. 

Obviously I’ve done my fair share of adapting since Dax has been born. Stepping into my new role of “Mama” has been eye opening. I’m somehow teaching this human how to explore the world and figure out how his body and mind work as one. The scary thing about this is I’m not even sure I know what that even means. 

Yes, I understand that I have toes and he’s just recently found his. But the principle is the same. He’s learning how to adapt and move around his new environment and I’m doing the same.

I’m adjusting my routines. I’m learning how to love myself in hopes he will follow. I’m working hard on all my relationships so Dax can see how much his parents love eachother, their friends, their family, their work, their passions, and most importantly, themselves. 

I’m changing my negative thoughts into positive affirmations. I’m horribly failing. It’s so much easier for me to put myself down and to let others put me down because that habit is so deeply rooted. It’s gotten to the point that the roots are twisting around all the positivity in my life. Choking it out. So I’m changing.

This little human who laughs at the word poop and literally shits his pants once a day has forced me into this beautiful adapt to survive mentality. I was so blindly unprepared for his arrival. So blindly oblivious to the things I would learn. Oblivious to the things I would have to overcome. Oblivious to the the personal growth that was about to take place. 

I’m teaching him to walk, he’s teaching me to love. He’s the scariest surprise gift I’ve ever been given. 

Much Love,

Megan

A Clean House

I love a clean house. White tile that sparkles, grit free stove and counters, smudge-less stainless steal appliances, that ‘I just spent hours cleaning and scrubbing’ smell.  A clean house makes me feel organized and in charge. My brain could be a scattered mess but you would never know because I hide it with an organized home and a sent of Autumn Harvest essential oil. 

That’s the thing about appearances, you can really be judged for how you look even if it’s not how you feel. If someone has a full face of perfectly blended make up and a clean, well fitted outfit many would assume this person has too much time to focus on their appearance. Maybe even assume this person is self centred. Or has low confidence or a cold hearted personality and uses cover up to, well, cover it all up. 

I’m guilty. I mean really who isn’t? The way we dress, how we carry our bodies, the movements we make, they all create this impression or suppression of who we are. I feel that maybe this outer layer of expression doesn’t always directly reflect our inner personality.

Sometimes it’s hard to admit to ourselves that we are hiding thoughts... feelings. I find opening up to others very easy because I can choose what to show and what to keep to myself. I can laugh and share my insecurities that aren’t my greatest fears and I still come accross as an open book.

I find opening up to myself very challenging because I can’t hide the parts of me that I hate. The stubbornness. The lack of patience. My ability to get snappy when the day hasn’t gone how I had initially hoped. So I trick myself with my perfectly applied makeup and well dusted house. I make sure that my exterior looks in order even though it feels as if my interior is an unorganized mess. 

It’s hard to cope with such self doubt. Doubt so strong it’s crippling. I get aches in my chest when I start to face my insecurities because I feel as if I will never change. I’m worried my entire life will fly by like a Sunday and I’ll be left on my death bed with so many regrets. I’m worried I won’t achieve relationship success, parenting success, or financial success. My greatest worry is that my unmanageable fear of failure will stop me from taking the required risks to be successful. 

So I clean my house and cover up my face in hopes that I can trick myself just as I trick those around me.

Much Love,

Megan 

Dream Chaser

I’m struggling to find a dream. 

Lucky people are those who have a dream or a goal, to chase. To put everything they have into reaching it. But what about the people like myself who can’t seem to come up with something to work towards? I’ve focused my energy into decorating our home and learning how to raise our beautiful baby boy. These things fill my day and truly make me happy. However, all the walls are filled in our house and I’ve learned that raising a baby is actually done best when you are not researching how to do it. 

So now what? Daxton keeps me busy and keeps teaching me new things about myself every day but I have this driving force inside of me to fill my life with more passion. I want to set a goal for myself. I want to achieve this goal. I want to have a fuller plate. I’m just so damn picky.  I won’t waste any of my energy on something that I don’t believe is great. I won’t pursue something that I don’t fully believe I will be the best at. I also won’t waste my time if I see a flaw in this goal. Even if it’s incredibly small. I’m just so damn picky. 

I frustrate myself with my ability to find a reason wrong with all these ideas I get in my head. It’s making it nearly impossible for me to achieve what I want most right now... a dream. 

My hope is that this attention detail will someday lead to my success. That my stubbornness will somehow help me find this perfect goal. That my drive will help me get there. This frustration I’m feeling is going to teach me something, maybe even unknowingly push me towards where I am supposed to be. In this moment though I’m defeated and angry. 

Because I’m just so damn picky. 

Much Love,  

Megan 

Baby G

How do you say bye to someone who has been apart of your entire life? Someone who has seen or known about all the good stuff, the bad stuff and the embarrassing stuff. 

My baby brother is the person who inspires me the most. Watching his dedication to his sport, his intellect in class, his sense of humour at home. No one can match that triple threat. He has a way of understanding me when I don't understand myself. He knows what to say and exactly when to say it to put me in a better mood.... or more likely what song to play and when to play it.

Life can be so difficult. It can be so heartbreakingly terrifying. It forces us to learn these lessons that we aren't ready to face but then, life, gives us the tools to deal with it. He doesn't know, he is too modiste to even have a clue, that a big part of me learning to smile again is because of him. Seeing the way he lives his life, with a sort of free spirited ease reminds me every day to put on my gangster beats at handle it. Baby G has taught me to get out of my head a little, to laugh even when you don't know why you are laughing and to push through the most difficult of times. Not once has he told me any of these things, he has only lead by example.

I truly believe that one day he will be an amazing leader because of this born with trait he has... to show people by doing. Whether that be a leader on the ice or in an office, people are going to want to follow him, mirror him, not because he tells them to but because he has an energy surrounding him that is captivating. People like my baby brother do not exist simply to pay bills and die, they exist to inspire others how amazing this life is, to show us how beautiful the difficult times are, and how it is possible to build yourself up when you think you have nothing.

I am writing this today because yesterday this would of been a sappy post about how much I am going to miss him as I blubbered all over the keyboard. The truth is, I am so sad I can't see him at the same rate I am used to but the pride I have for how hard he has worked, how hard he has grinded, outweighs any sort of self pity I am feeling. I am a little frightened by the thought of him not being across from my room but I find ease knowing he is living out part of his dream with grace. He is diving into this new experience without a drop of fear because that is who he is, what he does. He bulldozes though any uncertainty and just gets shit done. 

Four years of my life have been spent without him, the rest he has been my very best friend. We have always been close as siblings, I am so thankful for that. I am so thankful that out of everyone on this planet I get to call Garrett my Baby G. 

Much Love,

Megan

Attraction

I typed into Google “What qualities attract…” intending to put the words ‘career success’ at the end but I swallowed my own tongue before I could finish typing. The very first suggested search was “What qualities attract a women to a man.” I misread that message the first time, my brain automatically understood it as ‘what qualities attract a man to a woman.’

In 40% of the cases of domestic abuse females are the ones doing the abusing. We never hear about that in the news. In a recent video by True Activist on YouTube it clearly showed that the public would jump to the aid of a women being abused and walk on by or even laugh when the tables turned and the male was being abused. The first suggested search on Google this morning proves that males are gravitating towards the internet in hopes to make themselves more attractive. This drive for relationship success is being fired by self-confidence, or lack of, and the desire to find someone who will be just as attracted to them physically, mentally and emotionally as they are to the female.

However, we generally assume that women are the ones who live their lives in hope for a companion who will love them, spoil them and, if you are one of the lucky ones, never cheat on them. I couldn’t find any reliable sources to throw a stat in your face about the percentage of women who cheat vs. the percentage of men who are unfaithful but I could take an educated guess that they are remarkably close. Still, we typically assume that the male population is doing the majority of the cheating.

Women hold other women to very high standards. We expect perfection from each other, as long as that perfection does not threaten us in anyway.  If their perfection does appear as a threat we hate on that women as if the need to fight to defend our loved ones is just as comparable to a lion defending her helpless prey. We assume that men have no control and are just animals walking around staring at every ass that walks by. They are portrayed as victims in a world where their innocence, or rather obliviousness, is the last remaining purity and due to this us women hate on one another for “teasing” our poor helpless men who can’t help but look if someone walks by with their butt wrapped tightly in spandex. In what parallel world would our guys ever man up and take some responsibility for their wondering eyes… hands… and allow us women to be proud of our bodies and not fear what other ladies might think about how we dress. Because sorry dudes, not every low shirt or tight pair of pants are for you. Majority of the time they are to instill fear into the hunters eyes that may be targeting our successfully caught prey. I do not do squats to keep you interested, I do squats so others assume that you would never leave me based purely on physical attraction to my tight behind.

Yet here I am, fully aware of the toxic way I think and still burdening my boyfriend with mind numbing self-pity almost every time he gets home from the gym in fear that one of those girls walked by with a larger, tighter butt then mine and not giving Brodie any credit. He is fully capable of making his own decisions and weighing the consequences that follow but I feel the need to micro manage. God that was hard to type out. It is so hard to admit to myself that I think all men are incapable of admitting their wrong doings and/or have no self-control. I can talk myself into believing that Brodie is an amazing person who’s most important desire is for me to fully trust him without that little voice in the back of my head saying “girls suck and he is just a boy that might fall into one of their traps.” The reality is that he is the type of guy who will show me respect, make me feel valued and give me no reason to ever doubt the words that come out of his mouth. Ever.

Maybe I am alone in this battle. Maybe I am the only one who can show my vulnerabilities to the entire world. Whatever it is, I am so tired of feeling like I am the only one who has a crazy brain that can run wildly out of control. I am so tired of being told that jealousy is bad. That doing this will make your man leave. That by not doing this your man will leave. Honestly, if your man wants to leave he freaken will. End of story.

That’s a hard fact to swallow. Loving someone so strongly is dangerous. Having to put so much trust in another person’s hands… giving them your heart and hoping they take care of it. I am getting pretty far from the topic I started with but this is where my mind is taking me. I am jealous and I have always been told it is a negative trait but I have decided that it is one of my positives. I am jealous and protective but because of that I am loyal and trustworthy. I will be there 100% for any of my loved ones, I will do whatever it takes to put a smile on their faces. If my jealousy also drives my loyalty then I don’t think I am doing too badly. I think that guys and girls both get jealous of what they believe is theirs, especially when that person is holding your heart. I also think that jealously is an attractive trait in a partner. Not to the point it is controlling but feel free to be protective of me, to be driven mad at the idea of someone else trying to flirt with me. Just also know that I share that jealously and I will be forever loyal to you. Jealousy is a good thing, it means that I have a part of your heart, or you have part of mine and we want to make sure the other is taking care of it.

Much Love,

Megan

Mental Chatter

If a friend spoke to you, like you speak to yourself, how long would that friend be in your life? Do you think that self-talk can impact your day? Week? Life?

 

Most of us are in a constant state of mental chatter. This buzzing in our heads can either be positive or negative. Just like when training for a sport you are either doing it proper or improper. There is no possible to way to build your butt muscles if you are doing sit ups. No possible way avoid back paid with poor squat form. Similar, there is no possible way to build your confidence if you are focusing on the negatives.

Mental health is so important yet so underworked. We do not take care of our brains like we take care of our bodies. I have been doing physiotherapy for seven months rehabbing my knee and I have gotten no support for any of the stressors in my life this winter. I go to a chiropractor twice a week to help my hips and I don’t even check in with myself that many times in a month. The mental aspect to any sport is about 80% to 20% physical ability. So what do we do about this? Block the hard stuff out in order to cause no distractions or deal with the problem so there is none there in the first place? This same statistic should be fairly close with life success as well. Yet what do we do? We ignore our own self-talk for what? To appear normal at our Monday to Friday jobs? There are 168 hours in a week and we spend 36-40 of them at work. That leaves around 130 hours that we can do anything we want and typically we are unable to find one hour a week out of the 130 available to check in and see how we are doing.

 

It is hard though. It is hard talking about your emotions and admitting you have them. No one likes to feel sad but ever more then that I think that most of us hate the shame that comes along with negative feelings. So the natural response is to say we don’t have them. I was the Queen of this. I had myself convinced that I didn’t get sad to the point it was borderline psychotic. No movie could make me cry and no one could hurt me because I was in total control of my emotions. Then, life happened and it forces you to feel sad. Now I had no idea how to deal with this foreign emotion and I was a mess. If only I had allowed myself to feel like a normal human being then I would have been so much more equipped to handle it. I see this happening all the time. Maybe on not as large of a scale, but we are not helping ourselves and we are definitely not helping each other.

That mental chatter that we constantly have has a larger impact on who we become then any parent, sibling or friend ever could ever influence. Yet, we allow ourselves to be swallowed by self-hate and we somehow expect it to all work out. We are a population hyped up on anti-depressants because it is an easier choice then accepting who we are. I have depression, I was on meds, and I chose to go off of them and learn to cope with my disorder. Do I have days that are down and days that are up? Always. For me, I decided that my mental disorders were not going to define me. I was not going to be just another person who got stronger meds every year, I was going to teach myself how to love myself. It is hard. It is the hardest thing I have ever done. I struggle every single day with not feeling good enough for my family, for my friends and for my boyfriend. They tell me I am enough and I know they are not lying but the thing about depression and schizoaffective disorders is that even though I want to believe them, I can’t some days.

Most of us don’t want to work towards sound mental health though. We want to go to the gym to get a tiny waist and big ass so we can put it on Insta but we refuse to put the work into something that makes up 80% of our personal success (I could totally make an argument for a larger percent but I’ll stick to what I for sure know.) The external body that we hold our personalities in should not be the deciding factor if we love ourselves or not. I struggle with this but I know, most of the time, that my mind is my best characteristic. I am not loved because of my weight, my hair, or the symmetry of my face. I am loved because I am empathetic, ambitious, brave, determined, emotional, friendly, generous, independent, loyal, versatile and sassy. It has taken my years to be able to list good things about myself without immediately saying something I am poor at. I will feel nothing less than proud that I have went from being suicidal to being able to write a blog about my weaknesses AND my strengths.

However, I will also feel troubled that there are still people walking around that hate themselves. I can’t stand the thought of a human being feeling so poorly about who they are or what they can accomplish that they do not want to be here anymore. I have no idea how to help everyone, I am still trying to help myself, but I want it to change. I want to help it change. I just have no idea how to start.

Much Love,

 

Megan

Second Day Curls

Aren't second day curls the best curls? I mean really... It's like your hair is personally repaying you for all the hard work you put into this life.

"No Megan, no messy ponytail today. Today we look even more fabulous then yesterday because I refuse to lose my bounce, my twirls or my perfectly placed part, just like you refuse to lose your spirit, your passion or your sassiness."

Maybe it's ridiculous but I seriously felt my whole attitude towards this Monday change when I came to the realization that I wouldn't be looking like I rolled out of bed and directly into my car today. Okay, not maybe, it for sure is ridiculous. How could such a simple thing like this make my entire day feel less like an uphill climb? How powerful is it that my mental attitude towards today has made the entire morning fly by. My smile is brighter, my head is held higher and my dread for this upcoming, hectic, week is actually turning into a little bit of excitement to get everything on my list done.

I try to wake up and think of something I am looking forward to about my day every morning but it is so hard. It is near impossible some days for me to get out of bed with a smile knowing I won't be done my day until nine at night. My days are long. I work full time and I keep two horses fit. I feel like I have been working two full time jobs all winter which has put a damper on my passion. I have let my passion feel like a job which is something I am embarrassed by. I should wake up every morning thankful that after I get to work with an amazing group of people I get to go ride two gorgeous, powerful horses. Do I smile every time I get to see them? Of course. I also can't wait to get home and just sit down. I feel exhausted. I feel like I have been pushing myself to the absolute limit this winter and I am ready for some nice weather and a break.

That would be escaping though. I don't need to do that. I need to just remind myself every morning that life isn't all that hard. It isn't all that painful. It most definitely isn't lacking beauty. It is never a complete absence of these feelings but it also doesn't swallow us into them unless we let it. Hard things have happened to me in my life so far. Hard things have happened to the mom who almost drove me off of the road this morning. Hard things have happened to all of us. I have felt pain, physical and emotional. Who hasn't? Maybe the stranger who is taking his time to cross the road isn't doing so to annoy you personally, maybe he has that limp which acts as a constant reminder of pain he once felt. Maybe the entire universe is set out to do things for you, or against you. Maybe, we create our own luck, our own moods, our own futures. Maybe this winter wasn't so hard on me because of my long days. Maybe it was hard because I chose to look forward to the day being done, not the activities that the day consisted of.

We have to start helping ourselves. We have to stop letting other people control or take away our happiness. I have come to learn this past year that hard things happen to everyone but the people who wake up every morning and look forward to the good experiences the day will bring are the ones that appear as if they have never experienced pain. Those are the people we all need to learn from, not hate on because of their "good luck." This world is full of selfish, corrupt, hateful people. It is also full of people who genuinely want to help others, inspire others. It is full of people who will make you laugh and feel whole. These people are not lucky, they are people who work harder then anyone else to paint every single day exactly how they want it to look. They are people that experience pain but they don't try to avoid it, they sit in it, learn from it, then make a serious effort to move on and come up with a plan on what to do next.

Lucky people exist. But not in the way most of us would think. These lucky people don't wake up with perfect second day curls every morning... they plan ahead and pin them up before bed so the bounce is even stronger then the day before.

Much Love,

Megan

Change

It's crazy to think about change. About the little day to day changes we make... About the larger, working on ourselves changes... About the traumatic, would do anything to go back and do everything you could to undo that moment in time. But still, we change. We change into these people who have laugh lines from the good memories and scars from the traumatizing. 

When I woke up this morning I was expecting pain. Not just in my chest but my whole body. This week I have been a mess. I have been getting chest pains that I would compare to the start of a heart attack and I have started getting incredibly itchy to the point I have bruises on my legs. Apparently these are both stress related side affects. So, going to bed last night I was scared. I was sure I would wake up and have a real problem with my heart and have to go to the hospital, even with that thought I still slept in my regular hoodie and no pants attire. Obviously prepared for strangers to rush me away. 

I find myself okay though. It's as if this year full of "firsts" is finally over. And I made it, we all did. We all somehow pulled together and made the best of Syd's birthday... Now, love everyone and everything day. I managed to not to cry my eyes out on Fonzy's first birthday.... July 6th, three months after her passing and the day Brodie came into my life. I am going to manage this last first, in a year filled with random sensitive moments, surrounded by people who knew her and love her the exact same amount that I do. We will change together today and Syd will somehow manage to make our scars beautiful. We will let her. We will remember the pain we all felt a year ago. We will remember the tears that were cried for months past this date. We will remember the passion that drove her. The animals that fulfilled her. The giggles that only stopped bubbling out of her when she need to use her resting bitch face to her advantage. We will be thankful for the positive changes this moment of time brought us... We will still forever wish to take that moment back. 

Change is scary when it's sudden. But we must all relax into the wild waves and allow our souls to grow. You cannot fight a change like death. You cannot refuse to let the emotion swallow your whole body. You cannot fight the sadness you feel with anger. You can only cling onto loved ones for support and hope you have enough good memories to allow you to come up for air every now and then. You must change. 

I have seen all of Syd's people change. I have seen the strength we all somehow grew take over and put our differences aside, help us push our egos down and just be people. We have all changed into better versions of ourselves, softer versions, and we managed to do this because of our shared tragedy. Maybe not gracefully but we all got there. We all were taught the lessons that death brings and we were given the gifts that surly come alone when you lose someone. Such negativity is not possible without some sort of positivity to balance it out. Tami had told me over and over again "death brings gifts." I rolled my eyes behind my computer and stubbornly refused to make an effort. But I have learned that death truly does bring gifts, it humbles you, it makes your edges jaded only to slowly sand them down to the softest they have ever been. It ruins everything you think about life but it shows you the importance of loving everyone one and being the most humble version of yourself. It rips your heart a apart so you can clean out all the junk and bring in the new... Forever missing a piece with wild, curly hair, but being able to see the beauty in the most simple of things. 

My soul went through an unwanted spring cleaning last year but I am thankful that even though I... We... Lost so much good we also got rid of the bad. Every April 6th I vow to spring clean my soul. Get rid of whatever doesn't belong in order to make room for what does. I vow to always remember my best friend for the beauty, stubbornness and passion she brought into this world. I vow to be there for anyone who suffers on this day, on any day, because death taught me that we are all the same, we just suffer differently. 

So today, on the day that marks my greatest loss, I ask all of my friends to clean their souls. Today, April 6th will forever be a great reminder of what is important, raw, meaningful and what is superficial and needs to be swept away. 

Much love,

Megan

Love Not Strength

I find myself sitting in my car, music turned down low, overlooking the beautiful river. How did I find the beautiful spot? I have no idea. To be honest, I think I drove through a construction zone... The, now half frozen, muddy ruts are far to wide to be from any regular size car. But this is a peaceful place with no one around. My face is still slightly wet from the tears I failed to fully wipe off of my face, my breath still a little uneven, and my heart is ripping. 

It's been a while since I have sat down to write. I kept telling myself it's because I have been too busy but the truth is, I haven't been able to face my feelings. This is the first time I have admitted to myself that brutal fact. The fact that just when I thought I was so close to mastering the acceptance of my emotions, I slipped up and drew myself back into my dark, stoic, hole. It's comfortable there. I convince myself that I am happy but it never gets me very far. Life does that. Love does that. 

Love has a way of tricking you into thinking you're strong. You feel like you have someone who will always be there to pick you up, dust you off, smack your butt and tell you to keep going. Love can be ripped from you... Just like tires ripping off of of a road... Bursting into flames... Leaving nothing but a yoga mat, ashes, and the memories of what could of been. 

Love has a way of tricking you into thinking your strong. You feel like everything is perfect, like you will never have a worry, a problem or a slight bump in the road. Then you hit a pothole that whiplashes your forehead into the steering wheel and you are reminded that love isn't a synonym for perfect.  It's not a synonym for quintessential, or exemplary. It's especially not what Beyoncé would call "Flawless." Love just is. It's just this feeling that is completely relative to who we are, what we need, what we want, when we want it and what form we want it in.

Love has a way of tricking you into thinking you are strong. It makes you think that showing emotion is an easy thing. Love is a fun feeling. You feel whole, accepted, respected. Yet, love isn't just happiness, it's the sadness you feel everytime you say goodbye, it's the dread you feel when you know you need to hurt someone with honesty, it's the guilt you feel when you can't change your past. That sounds similar to life... No? 

Doesn't life trick you into thinking you are strong? Doesn't life made you feel like you have everything under control... Then out of no where everything goes a little pear shaped? Doesn't life make you feel on top of the world one second then kindly remind you that every life is equal the next? Life, love, it's all the same. These two "L" words trick us all into strength. Strength isn't given. It's not something that just comes to us every six months like a raise at work. It has to be earned. You have to battle and battle and earn your scars, your strength... But even then, are you strong? Is anyone? Not in my opinion... How could we be? How can a certain amount of fight make is strong? Isn't a women losing her mother, then her daughter enough to make her "strong." No. Because being strong isn't the goal, continuing to love, to live, is.

Love tricks us into thinking we are strong but the truth is, no one is. No one is prepared for so much love lost to be able to recover without another battle. That's life. We battle and battle and we aim for strength as if that is the goal... But love is the goal. 

Loving life, who we live it with, what we fill it with, that's my goal. I want to fill my life with love. I just need to figure out how to rewire my brain so I can stop aiming for strength and start aiming for love. 

Much Love,

Megan

Honesty

"Sometimes you need to fib in relationships to keep your significant other happy." 

Is that statement true? I don't know... Here is what I do know. I have a major issue with lying, there are a few reasons why I think I have this obsessive need to know the truth, no matter how tough it is to hear, but it doesn't really matter why I am like this. It matters that I am like this and it's not really fair. 

I ask a question and I want to know the honest answer, I don't always like the honest answer, but it's always better then catching someone in a lie. Here is how this isn't fair... Although when someone lies to me I completely lose my mind and get covered with a red, firey rage, I might not be my typically happy go lucky self when hearing the truth either. But how should I be expected to be? I mean, the truth can hurt. Everyone knows that but at the end of the day, being lied to hurts more. 

I am not always a fair person. I try to be but I have a major problem with comparing myself to other girls and that affects my judgment. I realize that this is completely ridiculous and I should have the confidence in myself to truly believe I am capable of love. However, there seems to be this little voice in my head that drives me to want to be the best... At everything. I want to be the best at stuff I have never even tried. I want to be the best at stuff that is physically not even possible. I want to have the best body parts, the best mind, the best work ethic, the best (most) control of my emotions... Which is totally ironic because by me wanting to be better then ever single person that has ever lived makes me crazy, and pulls my emotions out of check. There is no way for me to win it seems. No way for me to be the best in everything that has ever been. Typing that out makes it sound ridiculous but even after wording it like that, I still want it. 

This disease will ruin all of my relationships. I have it in my head that if I am the best, at everything, I will never get hurt. I will never get cheated on. I will never be lied to because... Well... I would be the best. Makes sense right? I really hope I am not the only one who thinks this a completely logical thing to strive for. Yes, never achievable, but something to work towards. Something that, if I get close, will prevent me from any sort of pain or suffering. 

When I think it out and let my mind wonder I realize the logical way to behave in a manner that is natural to me. This manner will attract others with similar behaviours, thus, finding long lasting friendships and relationships built on similar interest, goals and general ways of being. Yet, I also find my mind taking me on a long journey filled with the frustration of never being perfect. 

I don't know what I want. Do I want the truth? Yes. Do I always like the honest answer? No. Does the honest answer hurt my feelings, my ego, and my confidence sometimes? You bet it does. There is no way for my loved ones to win with me, I get that. I get that both outcomes don't have me laughing the second the honesty comes out but when someone is honest you get mad at the situation, the comment, the reaction, never mad at the person directly. Being lied to... Well then you can bet 10/10 times I will be mad at that person. See the difference? That is why we should be honest. I will guarentee to all of my friends that being honest with me will not make me mad at you... Lying to me will. Every single time. This doesn't mean that we can treat others like crap, tell them about it, and expect them not to get mad. Because I will do that too. But I can promise you that I will be mad at the circumstance, not the person. 

In my mind, this is a respecable and reasonable way to act. If any of my readers can find me a person who can take the honest truth, that cuts into everything you are self concious about, and smile at the fact you were told the truth, I will buy you a pizza and call you a liar. We all get hurt. We all have things we worry about and, whether we admit it or not, the truth can hurt. I choose to be honest and open with my emotions, so if something hurts me I don't hide it... Unless it's regarding my parents. For some reason I can't seem to tell them when I'm bothered until I get to the point of explosion. 

I am a human being though. I am not perfect no matter how hard I try to be. I will never have a brilliant mind, a perfect body, or emotions in check 100% of time time. But I can promise all of you that I will be honest and open about what I am feeling. It will never be a secret when I feel self concious or hurt. That is something I know I have perfected... That is something I am proud of perfecting because it has brought amazing people into my life...

Relationships with all of our loved ones can be so hard though. We only ever want to see our best friends smiling yet we must hurt them with the truth sometimes. So, when we must break someone down that we care about, I advise all of you to make sure you are there to pick them back up, apply glue where needed, and forgive them for needing an extra crutch for a little bit. It doesn't matter if you have had no control of the situation that caused the pain, be there to help them get over it. Be there to tell them life will be more then okay (for the millionth time) and don't get annoyed when they get hurt about the same stuff. The best way to make me feel imperfect is to hurt me (intentional or not) then leave me on the ground to pick myself back up. 

So be honest. Be brutally honest and bring tears to your loved ones eyes. It doesn't matter. They will always forgive you as long and you are there to give their confidence a boost back up. 

Much Love,

Megan

A letter to my mother.

You are greatly underappreciated. Horribly undervalued. Overwhelmingly overlooked. I forget that you are not just my mother but I must also share you with Baby G and Kole. I forget that dad can be the neediest out of all of us (sorry Dad.) I forget that you have your own life to live as well.

I get moody when it seems you are always going out of your way to watch G play and the times you now venture into the cold, stinky, barn with me have become fewer and fewer over the course of the past year. I guess part of me feels like I am slowly losing everyone in our family. Garrett will be living away from home soon, Kole will only be with us for a few more short months, you and dad will be starting a new chapter out in BC around the same time Brodie and I can afford our own home and all of this scares me. ​

​

Just recently I have starting truly getting to know you and dad. Even more recent then that, I have come to realize that with you, dad and G heading west, I will be here all alone. There will come a day when your visits to the barn are maybe once a year… even worse, I dread the days when I will only get to see you once a year. I am excited for the future but still feeling extremely overwhelmed at the idea of having to charge into this new adventure without you by my side. Without you as my safety blanket who will give me those random hugs that result in me stiffening up, who will annoy the crap out of me when I am in a pissy mood from work or a bad ride, who well yell at G “GET YOUR SISTER A DRINK” and who will be there when my life gets all messy again?

There comes a time in every mother/daughter relationship where one loses the other. Whether that be by distance or death, I dread the day that happens to us.

Losing my family is something I never thought would bother me much. Up until Sydney passed away I was an emotionless body set on cruise control. Now the thought of Garrett not being across the hall from me makes me sick. I joke about going with him to BC but in all honesty, I would move away with him in a heartbeat. I don’t know how you and dad managed to not only make the most perfect daughter in the world but also giving her the best little brother anyone could ask for is the best gift you have ever given me… and I have two perfect horses G is competing with so that says a lot.

I guess I am writing this publically because you deserve to have everyone see just how wonderful of a mother and person you are. Thank you for teaching me to not be so independent, how to stand up for myself in a dignified manner, and most importantly thank you from the bottom of my heart for keeping this family together. You truly are the glue through the difficult times we have all faced. I could never thank you enough for that.

Much Love,

Megan

 

 

 

New Year, Same Old Me

Where do I even begin...

2014 was a tough year. And unbelievably tough year. My entire life got flipped upside down, shaken out, and stomped on. 

I was forced to deal with a lot if issues that had been simmering for some time and deal with new, unexpected circumstances that I never thought I would have to face. I can hardly believe I am here to write this. Thinking back to almost nine months ago I shiver... Thinking back to eight months ago I get scared. I think about how I was so close to taking my own life because another beautiful soul was ripped off of this earth the same time her tires left the pavement. I think back on the days spent in a numb haze, the nights in puddles of tears and I can't even believe I was ever in such a place. It seems like a different person then I am now... It is a different person then I am now. 

Despite those tantalizing thoughts I had racing through my brain I managed to (somehow) decide to live. Really live. I started running, writing and going on long walks with good looking guy. Life was somehow finding a way to get back on track. Thinking back, I don't know exactly how I managed to do it, I can't believe I was so strong honesty. The place I was spending all of my time was dark, gloomy and had a glue-like substance that managed to keep me stuck in that horrible place

I literally ran out of it. Running saved my mind. I hate the fact I can't run right now, it kills me every single day. It makes me feel like the good part of my brain is slipping away at the same speed the bad part is sneaking in. It makes me feel like I'm losing a part of myself I fought so hard to find this summer. 

I wrote my way out of it. I started this blog and it has changed my life. It has started new friendships, strengthened old ones and opened up doors for people to share stories that I feel so honoured to have heard. Bleeding all over this page has allowed me to not only start to heal over the loss of my best friend but also teach me lessons that I didn't even know I needed to learn. I write all of these posts without any direction, without any editing (in fact, I write them, post them, then read them a few hours later... That's why there are so many grammar errors.) and when I finally get around to reading them I can hardly believe the stuff I have shared. I am typically a very closed off person but writing behind my computer or phone allows me to open up while still feeling safe. So, not only do I surprise myself with all of the personal obstacles I put on here, but also the judiciousness that somehow comes out of my finger tips.  

2014 is a year that I will never forget. It's a year that broke me into a million different pieces that I had the fight to stick back together again. You can still see the cracks and glue marks that are keeping my in place but I am alive and right where I want to be. I don't need 2015 to be bigger and better then any year, I just need to remember everything I have worked so hard to learn and accomplish in 2014 and I know I will figure it out. If I can make it though this past year, I will make it through any. We all will. 

So, from the bottom of my heart......

Much (much, much, much) Love,

Megan

 

LOVE LIFE AND EVERYONE DAY

On days like today we remember. We remember her laugh, the way her hair smelt, the sound her voice made when she said "Fonzy!!" 

We just remember things more vividly. 

This scares me. It makes me wonder why I ever forgot about the time we cut through the crowds in Chinook Mall with our 'bitch face' on, arms linked, so people would move. Or when I read through our texts last night I realized I forgot about all of her drunk texts. I forgot just how much she said we were twins.

I doubt our friendship some days. I wonder if I meant as much to her as she means to me. I sit there and confuse my thoughts with memories... I find it hard to decipher the truth. I worry that my perception of our friendship was different then hers. I am grieving the loss of a sister. To me she was exactly that. I just hope her feelings reciprocated mine. 

I'll never know for sure though. I'm never going to know what she told other people about me or what she thought of me. I want to ask her. I want her to validate our friendship because some days I forget. Today, I forget. 

But, today is "Love Life and Everyone" day so I must not dwell on these made up idea's in my head. I must be thankful for the people I love that are still here, because, they are the ones that have helped me though my story. 

Do you know who I am thankful for? Her mother, Tami. 

Tami has shown me how to properly grieve, how to remain strong even through the worst of times, how to accept the beauty in every soul, and how to make peace with this tragity.

People say Syd had an old soul with eyes full of wisdom. People say the same to me. I say, she got that old soul and beautiful eyes from her mother. Being around Tami makes me feel like I am with Syd. Their mannerisms, their thin frames, their humor... It's all the same. I can say Tami is one of my sisters, I see her soul just like I see Syd's.

I see strength in Tami and I know that is were Syd got it. People like Sydney don't just happen. She was born with an amazing set of characteristics, but her mother truly shaped her into my best friend.

I could go on and on about all the amazing things Tami had accomplished, all that she has overcome but we all know this is her Everest. Tami is tackling this uphill battle of loss with grace, poise, strength, determination... And a little wine. Not only is Tami being a wonderful exaple for people all over the world she is being a wonderful example to Edian. Showing her son that life can be bitter and beautiful all at the same time. 

I admire Tami. I want to grow into a person with her same outlook on life, her same values, her same respect for every individual. 

So, on days like today... On "LOVE LIFE AND EVERYONE" day, I think of Tami. I think of the gifts, lessons and adventures she has given me and I feel thankful. I feel loved. I feel that there is light within this hardship and I know the light is there because of Tam. 

She is somehow managing to heal and teach amazing lessons to anyone willing to listen.

So Tami, I thank you for giving the world a girl as amazing as Sydney, and for also teaching us all how to live without her. 

Much Love,

Megan

Warriors.

We are all warriors. We all have battle scars, eyes that give away our every thought, mannerisms that are learned from those we spend our time with. We all live and experience life. Those experiences are all different and we take different learnings away from them but the idea is basically the same.

We all experience death. We all grieve the loss of loved ones, we all feel the sadness and darkness that follows the passing and one day we will all face death ourselves. 

We experience life. We experience death. 

Christmas this year is different. Typically, Christmas is a time spent with those you are closest with. You laugh, joke, bring gifts... The mood is light. This year however, I can't help but feel sad. I miss her. I miss her more and more each day. Last year at this time we were skyping with Doug's (now Tami's) puppy, Annie. This year I only see her in my dreams or driving past a field my eyes play tricks on me and I see her galloping on top of a giant blank horse.

Death isn't a fun thing to face, but we all have to. The only way I have been able to survive this tragity is through the support of my close friends, the wisdom Tami shares, and the big goofy horse named Fonzy nickering at me when I walk up. I'm not even sure I am surviving. It seems this month has been nocking me to my knees more then in the past. I have amazing people in my life to give me a hand up when I need it. 

People who come out with me to the barn on a cold Christmas Day to make sure the horses are alive and have bellies full of treats. I have people who send me Facebook messages quickly saying "Love ya Meg" at times when I seem to need it most. I have a person who hugs me goodbye before he leaves for a big hockey tournament, who even he didn't know how much I needed that today. 

We all have our people.

We all lose our people. 

Losing our people feels like we are losing parts of ourselves. I have never lost a limb but I feel as though it is comparable. All of a sudden you find yourself without something, or someone, who has become part of your life. You use it, them, on a daily basis. When it/they are gone we must learn to walk again. Find our equilibrium again. We must find a was to survive, to fight on.

People don't have "baggage." We have scars. And they are beautifully unique. They seperate us from everyone else experiencing life. They give us character, they remind us of our mistakes or our loved ones who are no longer here.  Our scars should be warn with pride, proof that we have fought in battle and healed. 

Life isn't always fun. Sometimes it pushes us to corners we never thought we would ever be in, and we must carry on. We don't choose our story, we just fill in the blanks. 

I still cry almost ever day over the loss of my best friend. I want to wake up from one of my bad nightmares and call her. Run up to her and hug her so big her wild brown hair gets in my face. I can't though. Instead, I wear this scar with pride. Knowing that even on the tough days ahead, I am still a warrior. We all are. 

Much Love,

Megan

Beautiful Strangers

I sit in a crowed Tim Hortons, sharing a table with two Arabic men who look to be in their mid seventies. They speak in a heavy Arab tongue and their english is poor at best. When I asked to share a table with them they both looked confused so I'm not even sure if they said yes. But still, they smiled back at me and offered me a napkin when my bagel made my hands dirty. These men have seen death I thought. Their leathery, wrinkled face tells a story that only they know.

They could be brothers. They share the same smiling eyes… smiling eyes that have a pain behind them. It's easy to see that these men are wise, that they have a story to tell me if only we shared the same language. It's a pity that these strangers and I will never have more then a quick hello and goodbye when I find myself so intrigued by them. Maybe the 6th of every month makes me a little more curious about how others live. I want to know their experience with death and how they cope, how they live on, and how they remember. It's beautiful that the three of us can sit together without saying a word and  still be so peaceful. 

The one with the wrinkles around his face that would form a smile even if he was mad pointed at my computer, smiling, while the one with more pain behind his eyes shook his head in embarrassment. I said I was writing. They both smiled and nodded their heads but I could tell they had no idea what the words I spoke meant. Amazing. I find myself gifted with this opportunity. No, this specific moment in time will not alter my life in a drastic way. But, I can't help being amazed by the fact that all the people in this world all have a story filled with love, hate and death. Yet throughout the adventure we can be so kind to complete strangers. It makes me wonder why families and friends ever fight. Why would I ever want to push someone away who knows part of my story. Why would I ever want to distance myself from a human who has their own story. Because I don't understand it? That's the only reason I can think of. 

How rude are we all for that. Getting so lost in our own lives and ignorantly ignoring the fact that we are all fighting in the same battle. We are trying to postpone our own death, heal from others passing, find love, appreciate the love we do have or planning for a future that isn't guaranteed.

I think about the plans Sydney and I had for this year. She was planning on living in Saskatoon with her horse while her mom and brother went travelling. We were going to go to Australia, Fiji and New Zealand together in January and enjoy the ocean and sandy beaches. Now I find myself taking care of her beautiful horse and longing to hear her voice again. Nothing is certain. No plan is guaranteed. 

The men who shared their table with me have experienced the loss of a plan due to the loss of a person. So has the mother struggling to control her three daughters, all with different animal toques on. Or the man with sad eyes and grey hair eating his soup all alone. We all have in one way or another. Except those crazy girls who are now fighting because one of them wants the pink hat. Children are so innocent. They have yet to be scathed by the tragedy life can bring. Maybe that's why I have been finding myself longing for a family of my own. Being able to teach someone who is so impressionable all of my experiences with life and death. Giving them their own experiences to create their own understanding of it all. Laughing when the colour of a hat is the end of their world because if that is their biggest worry, their mother is doing a wonderful job of allowing them to be kids. 

We all have a story. I often find myself lost in mine. Wondering how I got here or where I am going. I find myself lucky to have amazing people surrounding me and devastated missing those who are no longer here. I must be venerable though, I must be real. It is impossible for me to be anything different now. It would be easier to light a rock on fire with my bare hands then to change the way I am now. Which I am okay with. My life is not where I planned it to be but I am here, I am working hard, I am being authentic and I wearing my scars with pride because I have worked to over come my fears, my self doubts and my saddens. We all have. 

I didn't have any intention or direction with this post, I never do, I just let my fingers run away on me. I want to leave everyone with one last thought…

Be kind. Be authentic. Be venerable. Allow yourself to get hurt and feel pain. Allow yourself to feel every emotion life brings you way because you never know what your last emotion will be or what the last thought inside your head will be. Experience it all. Share it all. Listen to others stories because you will never learn more by listening to the sound your own voice. Share a table with random people because even if you don't share a conversation, you might find yourself thinking about something you never have before… and that is how you grow.

Much Love,

Megan

Unconditional Love?

What the heck is that even? Unconditional love I mean. Is it possible to fully, unconditionally love someone? something? Let's break this down a little more.

Unconditional. Without a doubt, unrestricted, full, genuine, unlimited, flat out, through going, unquestionable, clear, certian. Hold your ponies people, those are some serious words I just threw out. I mean come on.

Love. No synonyms come to mind.

When we combine these two very strong minded words, we get a very intense reaction. We get perfection. Is perfection even possible though? Doesn't seem like it… not in my life anyways. I strive for perfection every day and I have yet to actually achieve it. So maybe this means that unconditional love isn't plausible. I hope it isn't.

I don't want unconditional love. I would abuse it. We all would so stop those snarky comments in your head right now. I want messy. I want the type of love that's universal. I want crazy love. Messy love. Passionate love. Angry love. Sad love. Whole love. I want the type of love where you freak out and worry about the stupidest things, when your partner does the same. I want the type of love that makes you turn into a crazy person. The type of love that makes you question everything you are, who you want to be. Fill me with love that has no rules, no guidelines. Break all the rules in the book for me. Say you love me after three weeks because you know you feel it and don't give a crap if the allotted time is four months. Tell me I'm pretty with no make up and in a baggy sweater. Come visit my friends cross with me and let me cry on your shoulder. Wake up with me at three in the morning then drive home, just so we can fake a sleep over. Let me freak out and worry about the made up situations in my head then remind me, politely, that i'm just going mental. Cover me with love so strong, so flawed, so unique, so honest, so rich that I don't need it from anyone else.

I don't need some fancy adjective to go in front of my kind of love. I just need love. That word can stand tall all on its own. So give me that. I need love that is unexampled. Completely and utterly our own. That's all I  need. I don't need unconditional, I need ours. I need our flawed and fabulous love. Perfect love, naw. Just show up in any mood, with all the baggage from the day, all the tiredness, or all the bad news. Honestly, I just need you in any form and I will feel and give out love.

That's how you love. That's how to overflow with joy every morning  and every night. There is no "How To Love For Dummies" book or a rule book you receive when you turn 16. You just make mistakes, you stumble and you break and someone comes along and puts your pieces back together. Or maybe you fix your own pieces and someone sends a "wife me" message out of the blue that is going to turn into a reality one day. Whatever it is, love is love. So embrace yourself, love yourself. Love everyone that comes into your life. Get hurt. Break. Learn. There is no other way, there is no right or wrong way so just love naturally, genuinely, and you'll find it. You'll find your *insert you perfect adjective here* love, and then it won't matter if it's unconditional, or perfect, it will just be your own. And let me tell you this, it will be exactly like those cheese love stories you pretend to hate.

Much Love,

Megan

Being Human

It's beautiful isn't it? It's the only thing that we can choose exactly what we share with people, what we think, dream, wish or ponder about. It's the only thing on this entire plant that doesn't have a limit... Except for those bendy lines on graphs that I was supposed to learn about in highschool math but didn't seem to stick.

It's the only thing where we have complete privacy, complete control and complete freedom all at once. Our minds give us an emance amount of power and most of us don't even realize it. Or maybe we forget. We forget that we're allowed to think about whatever we desire with no judgment from others. We can dream about our most far fetched aspirations. We can slip away from reality and get lost in our own little world. Magical.

Sometimes I find myself being so negative… thinking about negative situations or feelings and then letting my mind spiral out of control. Why would I allow myself to do this? I could choose to think about all the wonderful things life has to bring me or dream away all the negativity we all find ourselves surrounded by. Instead I can't seem to shake my thoughts some days. Which is so silly considering I am the only one who dictates what goes on under all my blond hair. It frustrates me when I feel I am trying so hard to be positive yet, when I am the only one responsible for my own thoughts, I am failing some days.

We all have an infinite amount of things to think about in our lifetime. We can seriously think about anything… anything that has ever been or ever will be. We have no reason to be bored when we have such an amazing gift. Our imaginations are more colourful then any computer, TV, or cell phone. All three of those things are just objects that someone spent one single thought on to create. Think of how many more cool creations the world would have if we all spent just an hour a day thinking about something new and exciting instead of numbingly scrolling through our news feeds like a bunch of mindless robots programmed to sift through piles of unimportant crap. Think about how happier people would be if they spent a little more time lost in their own world filled with whatever they desire rather then seeing Kim Kardashian's oiled up, photoshopped butt all over the place. I know I'm getting a little sick of comparing my flat, half white girl half native butt to hers.

I'm ready to get lost in my own little world filled with unicorns and peanut butter fountains… even more then that though… I'm ready to start talking to people who spend time alone, they are the happy people with new perspectives of life. They are the people who have something new to share. They are the people I want to be more alike… They are the people who truly rich because nothing has a higher price tag then a well mind.

Much Love

Megan