I finally watched the movie My Neighbor, Totoro. So, from now on my blog is only a blog about Totoro and Totoro related things.
And another thing…to anyone and everyone that has bought me anything off my wishlist so far and has not owned up to it, THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I honestly cannot say these words enough, I want to spontaneously combust from all the kindness and generousity. I even had a follower from Germany send me some funds over Paypal that is going to pay for BCAA’s later today.
Thanks so much again, it’s been a huge help and a huge weight off my shoulders.
I just got home from being up North for the past few days. I feel sad for leaving and miss my parents’ house. It’s nice and warm there and my Mom feeds me until for I want to explode or slip into a coma.
My workshops went awesome. I did one Adult Ed class, Grades 9-12 in one school, grades 4-7 in another and grades 4-12 in my last one. I was given a dreamcatcher and a tobacco offering, which is a very big deal within my culture. I received great feedback from everyone, so much that I have been invited back in the new year to start new community initiatives such as more self defense courses and fitness clubs for the younger girls. I am now in the beginnings to have a grant approved to do this all next summer for Youth at Risk camps, focusing on self-love, violence prevention and fitness. This is in the beginning motions of becoming some what of a job for me! I cannot believe it.
With all this though, I have something more to share. At the final school I was at, when I began talking about spousal abuse, a young girl within the 4th grade began to quietly cry in front of me. I was at a loss of what to do because I was the only one to see it. She was so quick and quiet about it. A few tears and swift wipes at her eyes and she was done. She cried silently and no one noticed and she continued on. Strong as fuck, head held high. Grade 4.
As soon as I said my goodbyes and got into the truck to leave I began to cry. Not for her, but maybe along with her. The fact of the matter is, is that I have seen some battered women throughout this trip and I know where the facts stand, that half of these young girls have seen the same shit I have and have to live with it all right now as I am typing this. But this young girl that let a few tears slip and allowed me to see really hit me and I will never forget her. She reminded me of myself and how I used to cry silently, unnoticed and how I still do sometimes.
I talked to my mother about it and instead of my crying endlessly, feeling sorry for the state of these girls living amongst violence, she asked me to remember how I was at that age, living within the same realms. Then it occurred to me that these young girls are warriors, just like me. Strong-willed and strong-minded, just like me. Fighters, just like me. Resilient. Helpful to another in need. They’re making it, even when life seems hopeless.
A lot of times, school is the only safe and happy place these kids have to go to and I know exactly how that feels. But now I am making it even more of a positive environment now with future activities and visits to these schools. One of the most important things these girls need is a strong female role model that they can trust and relate to and I am so happy and so honored that they have chosen me for that. I am going to do the best I possibly can. This is my purpose.
Oh gosh, I’m crying again.
Dear @crissysaysrelax, Mom said I could borrow your jacket today because it was -48, don’t be mad.
@inhershadow bought Lumberjack pack beer and malt whiskey cheddar. Happy winter. @pelhamstuart would approve, no?
I am in the middle of working on my workshop for violence against First Nations women and digging a lot deeper into the cold facts of the country in which I live in.
I knew it was bad, but I never though it was this bad. It’s incredibly heartbreaking and I feel that I have allowed myself to be ignorant for much to long on a situation I should have known more about or should have educated myself more on more frequently. Why haven’t I done anything more than I am doing now? Why have a waited so long? I feel so selfish.
The statistics are staggering and it’s a very cold feeling to know that I am very much a part of these numbers. This next week I will be doing 4 sessions with grades 9-12 girls and 1 Adult Ed. class. It will be the first time that I open up publicly about my history of domestic, psychological and sexual abuse from both family and relationships.
I don’t know if I am going to be able to do this without tearing up or crying completely. I never cry for myself, but for the others that cannot carry themselves the way I have for so long. And knowing that I will be looking many of them in the face in those classes, hearing their silence because they are still so afraid of telling someone, anyone.
I need to do this, but how could I be a strong role model if I just break down?
I brought a proposal to my First Nations band for me to come and speak with and do a self-defense workshop with young women and girls on our reserve schools within my home area due to my cousin’s awful death and my outrage with violence against Native women. They approved it and I am doing my first one on Monday…I have 3 days to prepare, basically.
I expressed my concern with the lack of time with my mother and all she said was that I do indeed, have time. 72 hours, to be exact.
She is right though, I shouldn’t be too worried. In the times when action is most needed, it is important to actually act before the need is gone or forgotten. I just feel like this time, this issue is so much bigger than I am.
I went through my personal posts for the first time ever and I realized two things:
1. I am pretty fucking funny, because all I ever do is give myself shit and sarcasm.
2. I was supposed to get married this Saturday.
So a couple of you brought to my attention that my wishlist wasn’t working for you, saying that it couldn’t ship to the given address, so I went along and fixed that up. It was just a matter of switching my account from the regular amazon.com to the Canadian one.
Anyway, it’s a good to go now, thank you all so much once again for being so kind and generous to me during this particularly shitty stint in my life. I honestly cannot thank you enough and do not really know how I would ever begin to pay you guys back.
The past two years or so of my life have had some of the most drastic ups and downs in my life within such a short period of time. Granted, my life has been more of a struggle than most, I feel like this period of my life has been the point in which it has really carved my character and sense of being in this world. I couldn’t tell you just how many times I have wanted to give up on myself without being ashamed or even embarrassed.
I’ve had my tumblr for nearly three years now and I will fully admit that if it wasn’t for this community, that I would have given up on myself much more easily and it would be a fuck of a lot harder for me to pick myself up from the sorry ground. I’ve made some long-standing friendships on here that I am forever grateful for and even for the individuals that I do not know very well other than the odd message from time to time…it’s you individuals that bring a smile to my face when I need to laugh or reset my mind out of whatever negativity it is I was in at the time.
Again, for all of you that tell me that I inspire and I changed your life in whatever way, you do the same for me. It keeps me going to know that I keep you going. Because that’s all I ever really want to do in life.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your help and kindness. I appreciate and love the fuck out of all of you.
Another day, another tear. Hard Work.
Hello friends and followers, freaks and geeks
I’m sending this out into the world of Tumblr in hopes of getting some much needed help and hoping for a chance in hell that someone might answer. It’s taken a lot out of me to actually do this but now I’m at a point where I feel I am at last resorts.
As many of you know, I’ve had to face many challenges in the past few months. I am in between jobs because my contracted was done last month at work and am having finding trouble finding anything at this time of year. My car was rear ended by a fucking maniac that assaulted me and refused to give me his information and now having to deal with the death my younger cousin and having to head home for awhile.
I have been barely making my monthly training fees for crossfit and triathlon with three competitions coming up in February and March. These next two months are extremely crucial for me and I cannot afford to quit now, I don’t know what I will do if this happens to be the case.
I’ve had interviews for another fitness consultant position but nothing will come of this opportunity until January it looks like.
What I’m asking is some help from any of you to help cover some costs in feeding my muscles and overall health in training if I can just scrape up enough for my training fees.You can find all the supplements I need with the “High Priority” tag on my wishlist on my page. If you let me know that you have purchased anything I will do anything I can to try and reimburse you in some way. Whether it’s personal training advice via skype or whatever it is you can think of that doesn’t require me to travel anywhere haha.
I know that I do not deserve anything such as this from anyone and that everyone is out there fighting their own battles and are doing the best that they can, but at this point in my life, I need some help and the kindess of strangers to fight my own. I’m finally not afraid to admit this. I should never ask anything of anyone but here I am.
Thank you all for being here and thank you all for listening. You all have given me such purpose.
My athletic activities are not just a hobby for me. It’s not just exercise. This is my life and what I am building up to be. It is my passion to go farther and be better and constantly strive to have individuals around me feel the same way. I want to help others in their battles, in their journeys. This is my ultimate goal. But in order to do that, I need to be stronger myself, and to train as hard as possible.
Jodi Roberts was my younger cousin and was always a royal pain in my ass. One of my most memorable times with her, was when we were all in grade 4 and she was in grade 3. My friends and I decided to be a Hanson Brothers air band and do the Hockey Game song. After the performance, she had the balls to come up and tease me about it so I took my martial arts skills out of the dojo and into the town hall and flipped her onto the ground.
Jodi Roberts never had the life that I was blessed with growing up. Although our family was related, we were raised completely differently and had very different means. She lived on the reserve her whole life, whereas, I got out of it. She never finished school and fell into a life of abuse. Drug abuse, alcohol abuse, domestic and sexual abuse with little to no guidance or even a dim flicker of light to show her a way out. The world had not given her the same set of claws that it had given me to fight her way out of the same dark pits we had both been in. I got out. She stayed there.
Jodi Roberts had two children by the time she was 24 years old. She was only a year younger than I. One was only my nephew’s age, 9 months and the other was 2.
Jodi Roberts went missing for nearly two months. I had always known her to be a runaway, she did this more often than one should even as a young girl. When I heard that she was missing, I thought that she was going to come back like she always did. That she was just somewhere, even within the same city as I, on a bender until she decided enough was enough again.
They found her body. Raped, mutilated and murdered, outside our hometown.
My sister told me only an hour ago and I have been caged in this house, in this body, in this mind, forcing myself to try and make sense of everything it is that I am feeling. I screamed so loudly that there is now a ringing in my ear and the taste of blood in my throat. Something ended in me and there is something else beginning and I am not for certain if it is good or bad. Cold or warm. Whether or not there is a new shadow being cast over me or there is a new light to be seen from this.
I am crying and I am screaming not only for her but for all the other Native women this has happened to. If a lot of you reading this have been following me for very long, you will know that I have also been a victim of violence for being an Aboriginal woman. I have been beaten and threatened and sexually assaulted and only god fucking knows that if I have not been as strong as I am that I could have been dead in a ditch somewhere as well.
We are becoming statistics here in Canada and it is happening a lot faster and a lot closer to home than what we think. I am terrified and I have a rage and a pain inside me that has broken to the surface of my being that can no longer be ignored yet everyone seems to have no fucking qualms about it. When I had to give my police statement over my past severe incident, I was told “Yes well, this happens all the time” and nothing more. As if there was no sense in even trying anymore to find the two motherfuckers that tried to rape me in a fucking parking lot with surveillance.
I train hard and I strain myself day in and day out so that I become a stronger woman not only because I want to do better within my athletic career, but so that I may never become a victim of violence ever again. I never say this, but it’s true. I am afraid, I have been for awhile.
But who the fuck am I and how strong am I truly if I am only doing it for myself and not doing what I can for the women who feel they cannot? Who the fuck am I when I am not out there preventing this? There needs to be change. We can’t have this happen anymore. No more.
Jodi Roberts was my cousin. She was a mother. She was a daughter. She was a sister. She was an auntie. She was a woman. She was a soul that now only exists within the confines of our family and friend’s minds and a ghost within our reserve.
How many more of us are going to become ghosts? How many more of us are going to be put to an unrest in the the sad secret corners of this country until everyone has given up on us? How many more of us are going to be found?
How many of us will be saved and brought to justice? Before our flesh has quietly decayed and returned to the earth and our bones have bleached in the sun and remnants of what we once were are put away into forensic bags and locked in cold storage and forgotten, because we were “just another Indian girl”.
Starting to see more shoulders and traps. Mini beast.