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father, you had me, i barely had you.*

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father, you had me, i barely had you.*

so. i turned 39 last week. on a tuesday. i was born on a tuesday. early morning. 1:20 a.m. in the middle of a good Canadian blizzard. my dad wasnt there. he was in Libya. my mum and dad were living there but my mum was damn sure i was going to be born on Canadian soil..so i was. my aunt will happily tell you all about how she was my dad that day..she stood in for him. she comforted and supported my mother through it all. including my massive conehead.

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right from the start my dad and i had an unsteady relationship. i have great memories of him during my early childhood….wandering the grounds of Dundurn Castle…shooting hoops at Earl Kitchener after dinner…watching Magnum PI and early morning soccer on the weekends. ive been emotionally scarred by his monkey impressions at my birthday parties and one Halloween party my parents threw when he dressed up as woman and tried to hug me…i had no idea it was him and screamed bloody murder as he inched closer to me.

then my mum and i left and i lost him. i lost him to my teenage years…teenage anger…teenage moodiness…teenage distance. i lost him because of his decisions, too.

and this week, on another tuesday, i lost him forever. i hadnt actually spoken with him in months..i can barely even remember what he sounds like. he never wished me a happy birthday this year but i blame shitty internet for that as he was in Tunisia. the last message i received from him, in early november, was a scanned copy of my birth announcement. i never got to say goodbye..wish him happy or safe travels…not even one more i love you. it hurts. i know he knew i loved him and i know he loved me but it still hurts.

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im sorry for all the time we lost. i just want to hug you again. i cant even remember if i did give him a big hug the last time i saw him. i hope i did. i hope i hugged him tight and kissed his cheek and told him how much i loved him. i hope he thought of me the day he died. i hope he knew even through my anger i loved him. i was just a hurt little girl who missed her daddy.

inna ahebak baba

p.s. i miss you. i miss your corny jokes. i miss your great laugh, i miss your cheeky smile. im desperate for one last bowl of aseeda with you and one more cup of tea.

*title line inspired by John Lennon’s song “Mother

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my definition…is this

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my definition…is this

Do you struggle with failure?

I fucking do. Actually, it’s the fear of failure. Sometimes it terrifies me. It’s also stopped me from doing things…probably even held me back from being me.

I don’t do things because the fear of not being perfect at it straight away consumes me. How ridiculous! I only attempt things I’m fairly certain I’ll succeed at in one try. Think about that. All the things I’ve not done because I MIGHT fail.

I’m faced with that failure today and I’ve had my cry but it’s not going to hold me back this time. It’s my weigh day today and I gained 3lbs this week.

Does that suck? Yes.

Does it make me feel a bit shitty? Yep!

Does it mean I’ve failed? Just this week but not overall.

Does it mean I’M a failure? No, of course not.

Is it an excuse to give up like I’d normally do and go back to what I know and is “safe” in some weird way? Fuck, no!

I’ll dry my cheeks, cuddle my kittycats and jump back on the wagon because failing is only ok IF you keep trying to succeed.

I’m learning.

I’m redefining failure to me.

Failure=success.

bty xx

dont worry, just be.

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dont worry, just be.

worrying is such a silly useless emotion isnt it? i mean, anger, happiness, sadness are necessary and serve a purpose but worrying? really? it just stresses you out and causes more worry. its like an emotional tumour. i hate it. FUCK YOU WORRY!

im really good at not being worried. i can often talk myself out of it in a very logical way. worry is a great way to waste energy. energy that could be used for good. like loving someone, laughing, rubbing a kitty cat’s belly..you know the awesome stuff in life. ย also, worry does nothing to solve the problem youre worrying about and often, worry precedes the problem itself…sometimes there isnt even a problem but lots of worry.

see what i mean? worry sucks!

of course, i have experienced worry but i only worry when i truly have to, that is until recently and now i have complete empathy for those who worry constantly. its practically debilitating and encompasses almost every thought during the waking day. its horrible!

i hope this was the last of it for me. i really didnt enjoy it at all. it made me feel hungry and rage-y…much like steroids. i dont like steroids either.

 

bty xx

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