No Young Person Should Feel Unloved or Unwanted Because the World Needs You

Words for Teenagers

 

I found this on Facebook and I love it! This is what I wish I could say to every young person from the age of about 10 up to the age where they understand and believe these words are about themselves. People may be 90 and still need to hear and understand these words. Teenagers may be those this was directed to because they are at a time of life where they don’t have a set purpose yet like children to look after, a house to pay for, or a job to show up for everyday. These are the burdens, challenges which scare us and yet give us a purpose and direction – something we have to do each day.

Young people can be in a middle ground which can be an oasis or no man’s land. (Look up no man’s land if you haven’t heard that phrase before). Just because you don’t have a purpose yet does not mean you are not needed and can not find yourself a unique purpose and direction each day. Choose something and do it. Choose something wisely, something which will make your world a better place, something which will make you happy and feel accomplished. Little things mean a lot so you don’t have to reach far to find something valuable to do.

The world loves you, especially you, our teenagers who have so much to give, so much life and so much greatness yet to come.

This post dedicated to Zack (my favourite teenager of them all).

I'm a Woman with a Moustache and I Don't Mind

disguiseAt the great old age of 48 now, I still have the same whiskers on my upper lip which I have lived with since I was about 13 or 14. I have never tried to hurt, maim or kill my moustache. I have left it alone, in a live and let live kind of way.

It helps that my whiskers are sparse. I do have dark hair and the hair on my lip matches the colour of the hair on my head (or most of it now that I’ve got grey mixed in with my dark brown mane).

I live with my facial hair and I don’t mind it. I even have a bit of fondness for the facial hair – It makes me feel connected to other women in my family who have far more facial hair than I ever hope (or want) to have.

I remember the very first day I actually noticed the whiskers myself.

I was in our downstairs bathroom and I had leaned in for a closer look at my face because I had a zit (also known as a pimple). I still like to get rid of those. I squish them then put stuff on them to finish the killing process and decontaminate so they can’t so easily return.

Seeing darker hairs on my upper lip was a surprise. I’m sure they weren’t there before then. I hated them on sight. They were traitors to the young, perfection of my face. That face being one of the few things I actually did like about myself – and still do. Having whiskers was a shock. Only old women were supposed to get those kind of things, women going through menopause or women from hairy families. I had neither. I was about 14 and my ancestry was pretty slanted to the Celtic side.

I called in for reinforcements, my Mother. She looked and then looked closer. She said they were hardly noticeable unless someone was really looking for them.

So I took a step back from the mirror, which wasn’t much considering my face was almost pressed against the glass to start with. It was true! Once I stepped back and wasn’t focused on that area of my face, I really couldn’t notice the whiskers. If I looked, I did see them. But, I had to be looking pretty carefully.

So I wasn’t turning into some weird sort of man-beast after all.

My Uncle has had a full beard and moustache for as long as I can remember. As children we would buy him shaving cream, packages of razors and so on. Children sometimes have such great ideas but not the common sense to see these ideas through. He laughed about our gifts and after being embarrassed once or twice we realized a man with a full beard and moustache isn’t going to need shaving cream. Later I would try after shave, thinking he could use it like cologne. I never did hear either way about that one. Maybe he thought it was a good idea.

Anyway, at that young age myself and having whiskers I did picture myself growing a beard, thick and hairy as I went through puberty and all those changes. I would check my upper lip for changes, new growth, more growth – dreading to see a whisker begin to do so much as curl.

I was lucky in the genetic lottery. I never did get more whiskers, or thicker whiskers. I did have friends who were less lucky.

One young woman I worked with had to shave her face every day. If she skipped a day she had 5 o’clock shadow. From talking to her I know she tried all kinds of methods to get rid of her whiskers. Waxing was painful but seemed to give her an extra day from having to deal with them. She tried several of those gimmicks from TV ads. Some of them burned her skin and made everything worse. Not only did she still have whiskers but her skin was burned and red or even blistered too. I was so glad for my sparse little whiskers then.

We Women Do Get Whiskers

Women in my family have a small tendency towards whiskers, when we get older. My own Mother began plucking her face (not just her eyebrows) once she was in her 40’s. My younger sisters both had whiskers on their upper lip and chin by the time they were in high school. Mine may have started sooner but they were less visible.

When my Great Aunt Alice died one of the saddest things was the full beard she had which no one was there often enough to prevent for her. She was my Grandmother’s sister (on my Mother’s side of the family).

My Grandmother also had stray whiskers on her face, but I never saw her with a lot of them until she was quite a bit older, when I was far past being a kid myself. She was a plucker too. Interesting to note that I have her same pattern of grey hair mostly in the front too. Maybe we share our whiskery ways too and I won’t have to really worry about them until I’m 60 or so too. I miss her – in that way it’s an honour to share her whiskers and grey hair. I do think about her nearly every time I look at my face in the mirror.

But… I do Like Being Contrary

Having written all that, a funny thing happened when I turned 40-something and began to get whiskers on my chin – I began plucking them, pretty mercilessly, with tweezers. I’m far from being a bearded lady. I only notice one a week and I do pluck them as soon as I feel them.

The only difference with the moustache and the chin whiskers was my age. I did not like the hair on my chin making me feel old when I actually was past the age of high school and beyond. Nature’s little digs about our age are much easier to take when we aren’t old yet.

Moustache Growing Month: Movember

To the Canadian Media: Canadian TV First

Canadian TV FirstAlthough the site which generated this link is about SunMedia in particular, I would like to see more Canadian TV in general. All the TV channels, the entertainers and media should be Canadian on Canadian TV. It should be the odd time we see US entertainment, not the everyday. This is only aggravated at this time of year when we have the US Oscars shoved down our throat. In the Canadian newspapers, the Canadian magazines, the Canadian news – every facet of the Canadian media online and offline is focused on yapping about the US award show. I’m sick of it long before the thing ever shows up on the actual night it airs.

I am Canadian. So why is it I know names of US entertainers I have never even seen in a movie or TV show and yet I do not know the name of the actor I watched in a Canadian movie last night? Without waiting for the credits, I did not know the name of this man who I have watched in several movies and TV shows over the years. If this were a US entertainer I’d know his name and a lot more.

Why does the Canadian media play into promoting US entertainers and media over our very own entertainers and media? Why can’t Canadians have Canadian TV?

I took this photo (below) this morning. This is the local Barrie, Ontario newspaper. The Entertainment section is just two pages. Other than a couple of ads for local movie theatres (showing US movies, of course) the only content on those two pages is about the US Oscars and entertainers. As a Canadian reading this newspaper I was annoyed to see the US media given two pages and no Canadian content at all. Pick up a local US newspaper and see if you can find a mention of the Canadian media, at all. Likely not.

No Canadian Content

I Want to See a Fat Girl

I want to see a fat girl in a leading role of a film.

I want to see a fat girl in a leading role of a film that isn’t about her weight.

I want to see a fat girl wearing mini skirts or just whatever the fuck she’s comfortable in.

I want to see a fat girl kick some bad guy’s ass.

I want to see a fat girl be the one that the guy/girl falls in love with at first sight instead of just the fat girl the guys all make fun of first before getting to the stereotypical blond, thin white girl.

I want to see a fat girl who isn’t the thin girl’s funny friend.

I want to see a fat girl love scene.

I want to see a fat girl be a fucking survivor of a god damned fucking zombie apocalypse!  Fuck you and your rule #1, Zombieland!

I want to see a fat Disney princess.

I want to see a badass fat girl who is sardonic and smokes, and when someone comments on her weight and how smoking makes it worse, she just blows smoke right in their faces.

I want to see a fat girl who loves to screw and isn’t ashamed of the fact.

I want to see a fat girl’s leading man/woman punch some guy in the fact for making fun of her.

I want to see a fat girl be something that is not her weight.  I don’t want her to be the butt of every joke.  I don’t want her to be the one who’s constantly rejected, or the one who has to fight to accept herself and have others around her accept who she is.  I’m tired of seeing roles for fat girls that are only about her weight.  I want to see a fat girl living her normal existence.  I want to see her know she’s beautiful and not have to go through some huge challenge of loving herself.  I’m tired of seeing horror films with only a thin cast.  Fatties can run, too, a lot of times faster than you can and I can guarantee fatties can probably beat a bad guy up better, too.

I WANT TO SEE A FAT GIRL, HOLLYWOOD!

via Internal Acceptance Movement, I Want to See a Fat Girl.

Welcome to the Day

I’m going to try writing Morning Pages (again). I haven’t looked up the official rules in awhile. I think it was intended to be written long-hand but I’m ignoring that rule. I’m such a rebel that way. This morning I’m too tired for long-hand.

My brother is coming over. So I got up early, even before the alarm clock went off. I scurried around to tidy up. Does anyone else have a brother who is actually tidier than they are? Not that I don’t like things tidy, I just keep putting off the actual doing of the tidying. Anyway, I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher, got boots straighted at the door, made coffee, moved a pile of books, and assorted other stuff that keeps sounding pretty lame as I’m writing this list. Why do I now feel tired?

I felt pretty perky when I woke up. I began planning my day. Planning what I would write here. Then I began working, got dressed, stuck my hair out of my face. Now, I’m just waiting for Graham to get here, the men who are coming to photograph the renovations to the basement and the other men (I’m only presuming they are men) who will be picking up the bag of clothing for donations which I also scurried around with this morning.

Do you know how creative you need to be to have an X on a plastic garbage bag? You can’t draw it on with marker. I’ve been there before. I picked cardboard from a piece of junkmail out of the recycling and cut an X out of it. Then I taped it to the bag. Now, I’m not sure if they said to leave the bag at the end of the driveway or not. I don’t want it picked up as garbage. No, it’s not garbage day but there are a lot of people who come along and look through anything put out here. I think they mainly want glass and such which they can get paid for. Still, that bag is out there for a purpose and – I don’t want them phoning me to complain that I had nothing to pick up when I said it would be there.

I have this thing where I feel at fault for everything already. I don’t need more.

Anyway, the man is here to do the photos. My brother is here showing him the basement so I can have my coffee like a good working zombie. Maybe I can have a nap later, if I’m sneaky about it.