Moving On?

A month ago I came into the knowledge that the guy I have had a crush on for almost a year has a girlfriend. I can't say I didn't expect it. I wasn't surprised in the slightest.

So many things happen when this kind of thing hits you. For me it felt like I had ice running though my veins. My mind raced with questions. I made myself a promise that I wouldn't cry and broke it immediately. I literally couldn't stop thinking about it. Things just didn't add up. I didn't, and honestly still don't, know what to do with myself. Do you wait it until something gives or until someone else comes along? Or do you listen to your friends who say, "at least now you can move on"?

Moving on sounds awesome, in theory, but it is far easier said than done.

Does a guy having a girlfriend automatically cancel out all of the amazing things you saw in him? Everything that attracted you to him? Does it make him less funny? Less attractive? Less caring? Does it null out all of the things you have in common? Does it really change anything at all?

The answer, of course, is no. He is the exact same man. The only thing that changes is the knowledge of where you stand with him. All of the things you were initially attracted to are still there. He is still funny, weird, handsome, and sweet. You'll still root for the same football team and like the same TV shows. He just isn't yours to have.

I somehow thought the girlfriend would change everything; like it would instantly erase everything I felt and everything I had hoped for. But the reality of the situation is, those feelings are still there and, unfortunately, they are just as strong as they previously were. That little crush is still present and continues to mend and break my heart over and over.

Moving on would be great. It would be a blessing at this point. I was hoping for immediate severance and what I got instead was an abundance of tears and confusion and that hopeful stupidity that so many of us are doomed to face. Constant over-analyzing and running back in forth inside my head. Wanting him to be happy, but also wanting to be happy myself. It's exhausting to want someone in your life so badly and yet not want to deal with the heartbreak you experience every time he looks at you.

Moving on isn't easy. It isn't pleasant. It just IS.  

Scars

I was thinking about scars today after I noticed some on my arms. This isn't a new thing to me, many of them have been a part of me since I was a child. Bike accidents, fights with my brother, cat scratches, a few burns and some intentionally self-inflicted. I've had most of them so long I usually forget I even have them. In fact, most of my scars have faded so much you can barely see them unless you know they’re there. None of them are exactly what I would call disfiguring; in fact, no one even mentions them (excluding a rather large and recent burn which will fade in time).

But sometimes this makes me wonder. Do they really not see them? Is it just because I am surrounded by adults who know how to hold their tongues?  

When I was a child, back when I still engaged in fights with my brother, I had fresh scars and cuts all over my arms. People asked me about them constantly and as a shy girl, I was embarrassed by all the attention I was getting over something so ugly and repulsive. I got teased at school and I got even more self-conscious than I already was. I started to think something was seriously wrong with me. I ended up wearing long sleeves to avoid the barrage of questions and the merciless teasing.

Today, I randomly decided once and for all to count my scars. I got a pen and put a small black dot on every single one I could find. I counted 93. 91 percent of these are on my arms alone. For some reason, this number made me cry. Something I hadn't even thought about in so long, something I had come to accept, was making me self-conscious all over again. I’m not exactly sure why quantifying made it seem worse. Nearly 100 scars on my body. It’s kind of hard to wrap my head around.

I've always noticed girls with smooth arms, with even coloring and no ugly white lines. I've imagined running my hands up my own arms and feeling smoothness instead of bumps. Subconsciously I have been doing this for years. Bashing this aspect of my own body without even realizing it, somehow thinking I had in fact accepted the reality of it. I will never have smooth skin like the stars in magazines.

Then I thought, “So what?”

I had at one point learned to be proud of my scars, but in the few minutes I took to count them I had forgotten that. My scars show that I overcame something. They are a story to tell; a story of my strength. When I was 10, I fell off my bike in our gravel driveway showing off for my aunt and grandmother. The result was a sizeable chunk of skin missing from my knee and a four inch gash on my calf. When I was 12, I had surgery to remove an ovary that had developed a cyst the size of a grapefruit. It was one of the scariest moments of my life and I survived it with a 6 inch scar on my lower abdomen. When I was 14, I had a mole removed from my face that had started showing sign of potential malignancy. My mole was found to be benign and I have a one inch scar on my cheek to remind me that it could have been so much worse.

So, I may never have smooth arms. I may always use extra concealer on my face. I may always be self-conscious of the scar on my stomach. I may never wear a bikini and I may dread future lovers seeing it. I may at times get wrapped up in vanity. But these scars are a part of me. These scars ARE me. I have heard people say “We are not our scars,” but I disagree. I AM my scars. The experiences that caused these scars made me who I am today. I have overcome a lot and I will forever advertise that on my skin. Many have worse scars than I do and they have overcome even greater hardships than I.

Don’t be ashamed of your scars. Embrace them, love them, own them, and share the stories of them. They represent your resilience and your strength. We are not only our scars, but they have helped shape who we are.

Tis The Season to Bitch and Complain

The worst thing to happen to Christmas is Christians.

It's the same thing every year: "I have the right to say Merry Christmas, stop suppressing me!" Do any of you TRULY know what it means to be suppressed? To be unable to celebrate your religion? NO. Because we live in a society where people can have any religious belief they want. Who the hell do you think you are to get butt-hurt over a few words that you can say whenever the fuck you want and tell people to go back to their own country. Does someone have a gun to your head making you say "Happy Holidays"? Is someone going to shoot your head off if you say "Merry Christmas"? Are you in fear for your life to practice your religion? Didn't think so. I suggest you take a trip to North Korea or Saudi Arabia before you continue your bitching and moaning about having your Christian rights suppressed. Seriously, we have it made in Canada.

So they don't have Christmas concerts at schools anymore. Boo hoo. Instead of getting all "Oh woe is me" about it, maybe you be teaching your children that it is acceptable for religions to accept each other. Teaching them to feel privileged because they're Christian will only bring about a new generation of prejudice. Maybe it's changed, but when I was in school we had a Holiday concert each year and I'm pretty sure Hanukkah and Kwanzaa got ONE song each, and the rest of the concert wasn't filled with awkward silence, it was all Christmas songs. And to my recollection NONE of the songs had a religious deity attached. The Jewish song was about a dreidel. Seriously.

Some of you "Christians" seriously need a refresher on what Christmas is about because I think somewhere in the war of words you've forgotten. (Religious, non-commercialized) Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ; whose very nature is one of love. Jesus loves everyone. Christians are taught to act as Jesus did. So do you think Jesus Christ would say half the things we've said to or about other religions in his name? Do you think he would want you to do such things for his sake? Did Jesus fight? Did he think he was better than everyone else? Did he go around forcing others to believe in him? No. He was the calmest, humblest, most accepting man to ever walk this earth! If I were him I would be appalled at the way Christians behave at this time of year. Appalled and downright disappointed.

I'm not one to shove my religion down other people's throats. In fact, nine time out of ten, I hesitate to even call myself a Christian. It's not about denouncing Jesus or God or being ashamed to admit I believe; its because the more I hear Christians talk, the more I realize I have an entirely different set of ideals than they do, and the more disgusted I get with the state Christianity currently is in. I don't know where the sense of entitlement has come from, but as far as I know it's not something Jesus taught...

So in short: Season's Greetings, Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, and Merry Christmakwanzakah. Stop complaining and say whatever the hell you want, you douchebags! ;)

Scared

I had a friend once who told me he admired how brave and strong I am. Sometimes I wish he was around to see how wrong he was.

I am not brave; far from it really. Every "brave" thing I've ever done has happened as a result of a great deal of over-thinking and detailed planning or a spur of the moment decision. A Facebook confession of love? A letter telling someone you love them but can't handle being in their life anymore? An email telling someone off? That is not my idea of bravery, but passive-aggressive behavior.

I am scared all the time. I'm scared of what people think of me. I'm scared of failure. I'm afraid of success. I'm scared of having my heart broken again. I'm scared of the dark. I'm scared of my past. I'm scared of the future. I'm scared that my past will negatively affect my future. I'm scared that I'll never find love. I'm scared I will never truly be happy. I'm just plain scared.

Sometimes I am even scared of my own thoughts. What would it be like to collide head on with that 18-wheeler? How would it feel to just drive through the guard rails and fly off the highway? Or jump off a cliff? What would it feel like to be shot or stabbed? Or to kill someone? To watch someone die? To slit my wrists? Thoughts of hopelessness, confusion, worthlessness. I am scared to live inside my own head. Sometimes I feel like I am just waiting for an alternate personality to surface. I feel schizophrenic. Normal people can't possibly think these things.

My biggest fear right now is love. Loving and not being loved in return. Drifting away. Losing someone and being left with a broken heart. But that's a story for a later post.

I'm scared of life. I'm graduating in 7 months. I will have a degree. I will officially be an adult; a graduate. And at some point shortly after that I will be out on my own, no longer a student, for the first time ever in my life. And I am terrified.

I don't know how to get out of this. I don't know what else to say. I'm scared of everything.

Career Girl

It's funny how things can change so much in such a short period of time.

When I was in high school I never would have imagined I would be where I am right now. My priorities have completely changed. I always imagined at 22 I would be married with at least one kid. Not unmarried and focusing on my career. I never thought I'd drop out of University after 3 long, hard, stressful years. And I NEVER would have believed someone if they said I would be in college studying Esthetics!

Of all the careers I considered (and there were tonnes), Esthetician was never one of them! Architect, Mechanic, Obstetrician, Entrepreneur, Police Officer, Forensic Anthropologist, Writer, Journalist, Pastor, Sociologist, Musician, Therapist, Social Worker, Addictions Counsellor, Marketing Executive, etc. Not once did I consider the beauty side of things until my second year of University. I started watching makeup tutorials on YouTube and playing around with make and then I decided I wanted to take makeup artistry after University. After a year I developed a talent for nail art.

I saw the advertisement for my school on the side of a transit bus when I was home visiting from University. I looked into the program but couldn't decide between the makeup and nail courses, so I ended up taking a year off of school completely to assess my life. After a year, I decided to take the 44 week Esthetics program which includes nails, makeup, waxing, facials, body treatments, and relaxation massage.

I could not be happier! I was always miserable in University. The education is not tailored to individual students and nothing is interactive and hands on. Nothing ever really stuck and I just felt...stupid. I just wasn't good at it. But the Esthetics program had been so good for me. I'm not AS shy, I'm more confident, I'm happy and most importantly: I enjoy it! And I'm pretty good at it!

Nothing in life is guaranteed. Plans change, minds change. The best advice I can give anyone is find a career doing something you LOVE! It really is true that if you love what you do, you will never work a day in your life! :)

Masochistic Love

Why are some people such masochists? I'm sure some are worse than others, but I guarantee everyone is guilty of constantly going back to something that hurts them. Maybe it's returning to relationships, friendships, or people who are absolutely toxic. Or maybe loving someone who never loved you back, but you can't seem to let them go. That's where my experience has led me.

I liked this guy, Jordan*, for about a year. During that time, countless tears where shed over him; especially when he started dating another girl. They started dating in July of last year. I ended up blocking him from my Facebook news feed shortly after, since the bombardment of lovey-dovey pictures wasn't helping my heart any. I tried striking up conversations on FB Chat a few times; as I always had. He never responded.

Eventually I lost track of him. I visited his Facebook profile less and less and at one point I actually became happy for him and his girlfriend. We still didn't talk, but I finally moved past it and decided if he couldn't be a big enough person to contribute to our friendship, I would put it on hold until he decided it was worth making an effort. I left it to him to make the next move; whatever that may be.

Imagine my surprise when this September, over a year since we had last talked, he sent me a message on Facebook chat. It seemed like no time had passed at all! I was pretty excited and thinking this might finally mean we can be friends. We ended the convo with a "talk to you later" and a "see you around". I felt pretty damn good about the whole thing.

A few days later I saw him at the mall. Sticking with my original plan of not making any more first moves, I just went about my business pretending like I didn't see him. Bad idea. When he walked right past me, seemingly snubbing me, those old wounds opened up again and confusion set in. Familiar confusion. Why would he say "see you around" and then snub me? Did he even see me? Did he mean it? I was hurt, but I clung to the idea that maybe he didn't see me.

A few days later Jordan deleted Facebook. I wasn't surprised as a mutual friend had told me he was intending on deleting what he had referred to as "Ex-Book". A few days later my friend told me she had seen on Facebook that Jordan and his girlfriend had broken up about a month prior. Since his posts weren't published on my news feed, I never saw it. So not only did he start a conversation, but he is also single again.

Then I did the worst thing I could do: I got my hopes up.

I went out to the bar with my girlfriends one weekend after that. He worked there as a bouncer and I assumed that since he had mentioned not seeing me there in awhile he probably still worked there. Not the case. My friend KP asked the manager if certain people still worked there and when she asked if Jordan did, his reply was "No, he moved away". I ended up in the bathroom crying for 15 minutes. AGAIN. The crying in the bathroom was not a new thing. And crying over him in general was a pretty common thing.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? I was fine for a year and then he comes back into my life just long enough to sink his claws back into my heart and then he disappears. The worst part is I didn't just say "fuck it" and go on with my life. I LET him get to me again. And I STILL don't want to be done with him. He's like a drug to me. I know he's no good for me, but the feeling I get from him is like a high I could never duplicate. I want him to be gone, but I can't handle the idea of not having that feeling only he has ever given me.

It's emotional masochism at its finest. And it's a bitch.

Being Fat in Hollywood

I just read an article on the “unconventional” coupling of Melissa McCarthy and John Hamm in an upcoming film. While the “hot guy/fat chick” couple is an amazing development, it made me think: why is this a development? Why hasn’t this happened sooner and why is it such a big deal? Why are overweight girls only cast in certain roles in Hollywood? I mean why can’t a fat chick play a lawyer, teacher, musician, homemaker or really anything? Okay, I’ll give you the “hot girl the main guy lusts over” and supermodel and athletic/physical roles, but for any other role I don’t see weight as something that should affect casting decisions.

When the movie “Precious” came out, critics were quick to say that Gabourey Sidibe would never make it big in Hollywood due to her weight. Howard Stern stated “Everyone’s pretending she’s a part of show business and she’s never going to be in another movie” and “she should have gotten the Best Actress award because she’s never going to have another shot. What movie is she gonna be in?”

Who decided that an overweight woman (or man) is less of an actor because of something as unimportant as weight? Why can’t they be cast in any role a thinner person would be considered for? Sure people love to see gorgeous thin people on movie screens, but I bet a lot of people would still go see a movie with an overweight lead character. Also, it wouldn’t glamorizing being fat! People aren’t going to see a fat actress and think “That’s great, I can go get fat now.” Thin, average, overweight, obese; it shouldn’t matter. It is NOT more of a qualifier than acting talent is! Not casting overweight actresses is weightist, superficial, and just plain not cool.

To top it all off, when an overweight actress DOES get cast as a main character in a movie or TV show, the show usually focuses on weight! Shows like “Huge” and “Mike and Molly” are the main examples that come to mind. Why can’t there be a show with an overweight main, that doesn't focus on their weight? A show based at fat camp or a show where the main characters meet at “Overeaters Anonymous” just seem to poke fun. Why not meet at a bar or have the show take place at normal camp? I’m not saying completely ignore the weight issue, but maybe isolate to a few episodes and some light-hearted self-deprecating joking.

Maybe I am too close to this topic as I was once told by a friend that I could never be a famous singer because I was overweight and he hadn’t even heard me sing! I could be the most amazing singer in the world (not claiming I am though) and I’d never have a chance because I’m fat. People have been turned down from American Idol for just that reason as well. I still don’t get it! Why is weight standing between extremely talented individuals and their success? This needs to change! Everyone has talents that should be realized and every single person is beautiful and worthy of achieving their dreams!  

Here's the article I was inspired by: The Frisky

Growing Up

I just found out the guy I have had a crush on for about a year and a half broke up with his girlfriend. Before this particular crush, I would've thought "sweet, maybe I get another chance" but this time is drastically different. Knowing the circumstances of the breakup, I don't feel good about it and I honestly feel horrible for him even though he was the Heartbreaker rather than the Heartbroken. People keep commenting on his profile to go get her back and I agree, but I haven't got the guts to tell him that. And even though I still have some feelings for him, I can't simply relish in the fact that he is so obviously torn apart about this.

He has the means to get to this blog if he so desires, so I will now leave a simple message for him: You dumbass. You are such a sweet, caring and funny guy. She was just as lucky to have you as you were to have her. Maybe you think you don't deserve her, but why on earth wouldn't you deserve to be happy? Run back to her while she still loves you and apologize profusely. You do deserve her and you deserve happiness! Don't EVER forget how much of an amazing person you are!

In my new revelation, I realize I have grown up a bit. I no longer need to be that person who selfishly considers someone's breakup a personal gain. I genuinely feel like he deserves this other person. He is hurting and I can't, even for a second, enjoy that. I hope he finds happiness in the end. And that is love in my eyes; even if it remains only a love for a friend.

2010 - The Year of "We Haven't Talked Since"

Well I have put this off long enough. It’s time for the account of my 2010. If you read my blog about 2009 you might have notice I mentioned 2010 was going to be the best year of my life. It actually turned out to be one of the worst. From fathers and roommates, ex-friends and car accidents, to death and dropouts, 2010 was interesting to say the least. And I would never, ever want to re-live it.

The Roommate from Hell
I was so excited when I moved into Halifax with one of my best friends in 2009. But that was 2009. On January 2, 2010, my roommate called me at my Mum’s place (I was still on Christmas Break) to tell me she was really sick. As a result of the sickness, she couldn’t work and had to move out of the apartment because she wouldn’t be able to pay rent without a job. Naturally, I was sympathetic and told her I understood and asked her to keep me updated. We talked twice after that, both times in January. The last time we talked, she had expressed her concerns about her privacy online and said she would be leaving Facebook. I never heard from her again.

One day my friend, Lisa, was creeping my pictures on Facebook and noticed my ex-roommate was tagged. How could she be tagged if she left Facebook? Turns out she had de-activated Facebook and returned. One thing I didn’t expect was that she had deleted me, my mother, and everyone who was closely associated with me from her friends list. That screams guilty conscience to me. That combined with not hearing from her AT ALL, started the thought process that something wasn’t right.
1. She had mentioned moving out prior to me going home for Christmas Break and I got pissed at her for it.
2. She NEVER talked to me again. It’s been over a year and she was supposedly one of my “best friends.”
3. Her father always went into the store my Mum works at and buys food at her department. He hasn’t since.
4. She called long after she knew she was too sick to work. She went to the doctor 3 weeks before she called me.
5. She claims her mother and step-father moved all her stuff without her knowledge. How, pray tell, would her mother know every single thing that was my roommate’s? Especially considering the amount of belongings in shared spaces (Kitchen, Bathroom, Living Room). Very little was forgotten and none of my things were accidentally taken.

At this point in time, I don’t think anyone who knows the situation believes she left because she was sick. Her sickness shouldn’t have put such a distance in our friendship. I do believe she was sick, I had experienced it first hand, but it was never so bad that she couldn’t work. All I know for sure is she lost a fair amount of friends due to this incident.

Not Gonna Pay This Year’s RENT
Due to my roommate moving out, I had to cover all $1150 of rent on my own until I found a new roommate. Unfortunately, I never did find a new roommate. As a result, I very quickly ran out of money from my student loan. I had to ask my mum and dad to help me pay rent so I wouldn’t get evicted. I ended up taking the bus home every weekend because it was cheaper to pay for bus tickets than food for a week. I ended up dropping my Thursday class and would take the bus home on Wednesday nights and go back to school Monday morning. For over a month I spent more time at my Mum’s house than I did in the city where I went to school.

When April came, I was informed that due to my parents’ divorce settlement, my father only needed to give me child support while I was attending school. Since the school year ends in May and I couldn’t afford to pay for food, much less tuition to summer classes, I had to have the uncomfortable talk with my landlord about breaking the Lease. I had never intended on staying the summer. My roommate’s friend was supposed to sublet my room from May to September, but we already know that wasn't happening. In reality I should have informed my landlord sooner, but we all make mistakes, right?

Upon telling my landlord the situation, he told me to move out ASAP so that he could get someone in by May 1st (less than a week). If he couldn’t find anyone, he informed me I would still be on the hook for rent; obviously. I moved out 2 days later. I have not heard from him or received any sort of court summons, so I’m guessing that is solved.

My Father, My Foe
Those of you who know me well know that my father and I don’t exactly have a great relationship. That went to a whole new level in 2010. When I asked for help paying my rent above what I was already being given via “child support,” my father got pissed that I only contacted him when I needed money and I never send an email just to say how life is going. At this point I was beyond pissed. It’s not like he ever went out of his way to contact me either and let’s be honest, he’s the parent, why should it be my job only to start things? So I told him off; hard core. I was expecting a nasty reply, but instead got a nice(ish) one. Things started looking up and we made plans to talk over coffee.

The weekend came that we were going to meet for coffee and he informed me that he wouldn't be able to make it because my grandfather’s nursing home informed him that he wasn’t doing well and he could be called out at any time. I said sure, let’s reschedule then. Even though we could have just as easily have met and his fiancé could have called his cell phone if the nursing home called. Anyway, we never met up. I went back to school on Monday morning and that evening my father called to tell me that my grandfather had passed away 45 minutes earlier.

I always thought a death in the family would bring the family members closer together, as a support system and a means of memorial at least. But that didn’t happen for my family. After the funeral I only received unpleasant emails from my father, which I decided not to respond to. We haven’t talked since sometime April, when I asked if he could help me move my things out of my apartment.

Car Accidents Happen
On February 8, 2010, I was in a 2 vehicle car accident. I’m still embarrassed to say it happened at a set of traffic lights. I remember sitting at the red light and I said to my friend, Lisa, that it was a really long red light. And it was. I would have noticed if there was a vehicle waiting at the red opposite me and I swear there wasn’t. Thinking it was safe to go I started my turn left when Lisa screamed. The force that we were hit with knocked us into the lane next to the one I was aiming for; you can’t tell me a vehicle could get that much momentum if they were stopped at the lights. Everyone was okay, but I don’t think I will ever forgive myself for getting in an accident with another person in my car. I thank God she wasn’t hurt. I thank God nobody got hurt, minus my sprained finger and some pretty gnarly bruising. To this day, almost a year later, I don’t think I have mentally recovered from it. I didn’t fight the ticket, but I still believe it was not wholly my fault.

Love and Other Drugs
My car accident made me do something I had never successfully done before in my life. I told a guy I like him…via Facebook inbox. How sad is that? Anyway, my accident made me realize I could have died without this guy knowing how I felt about him. Which is exactly what I said when he asked me why I decided to tell him. It turned out to be a great thing.

We had a great friendship. We would chat on Facebook once in a while, we’d talk when I saw him at the bar he worked at, and we had great conversations. He told me things that made me think he really trusted me. We joked around and became friends, but I still liked him and I never got that maybe he didn’t like me back. He never said it, so I thought maybe he’d like me once he got to know me better. When he left for a military course for a month I just knew my chance was gone. He met someone there and we haven’t really talked since. Mainly because I decided to stop initiating every conversation hoping that he would start one.

I remember the last real interaction we had. It was one week after his course had started and he was home for the weekend. We were at the bar and he was not working. At the end of the night he had been dancing with me and my friends and when the slow song came on I asked him to dance, and we did. We talked, sang, danced and joked around and at the end of the song he hugged he goodbye and that was pretty much the end. A month later he was in a relationship. And we haven’t really talked since. Maybe our friendship ran its course, but I hope we'll be friends again some day.

School Daze
Financial stresses, being away from home, and having no friends really took its toll on me in early 2010. I basically stopped caring about school because it was just an added stressor and I wanted to forget about it. Due to failing a course in 2009 I was only taking 4 courses instead of the regular 5. Halfway through the term I dropped another class because I couldn’t be bothered with coming up with a business and trying to run it AND do my other course work. At the end of the term I decided I would be talking some time off of school which I had been tossing around since November 2009. So that’s what I did. I was hoping to find a job, but that didn’t (and hasn’t) work out. I almost took a course in Makeup Artistry, but couldn’t afford the 3000 dollars. Maybe I will this coming fall if I can get a job to pay for it!

Le Fin
So that was my 2010. It was really rough and full of tears, but I survived. I’m glad I don’t have to relive any of that! I wasn't all bad though. We got a new kitten in November that we named Zoey. She's a little brat and I love her. Also, mt best friend and her husband had a baby that they named Jacob. He's so freakin precious! And finally, I had a kick-ass weekend long birthday. Probably one of the best birthdays ever!

I’ve decided that my 2010 has officially been dubbed The Year of “We Haven’t Talked Since.” Hopefully 2011 will be the year of mended relationships! Lets be honest, it has to be better than last year! *knocks on wood*

Christmas Ramblings

I learned from an early age that getting dozens of the most expensive Christmas gifts does not make a successful holiday. When I was younger, I pretty much got whatever I asked for. Okay, that IS an exaggeration, but I rarely went without a decent amount of gifts. Of course when you’re a kid that is what Christmas is about. But as I grew older my 16 page Christmas lists dwindled down to half a page of ideas, mostly books and a few ideas for “big gifts.”

After my parents split up, they still collabed on Xmas gifts. One year I got a guitar and the year after my brother and I got cell phones. However, when my parents stopped getting along, my brother and I gave up hope on getting much for Christmas. My mum doesn’t make a lot of money, so with my dad out of the picture I never expected much. The first year that money was really tight I obviously wasn’t expecting much. When I saw one gift for me under the tree, I tried my best to not be disappointed about not getting the new camera I wanted. Imagine my surprise when I open the gift to find out that is EXACTLY what it was. It was a budget camera, a little over a hundred dollars, but it meant the world to me. Even though it was the only gift my mum could afford it was easily my favourite gift ever. I think that accepting that you aren’t getting much and then getting what you want makes a gift very special.

I don’t mind not getting gifts if money is tight, but it feels horrible to be seemingly left out. I’ve taken to not going to Christmas celebrations put on by my Dad’s side of the family due to this feeling. One year I actually got nothing but a card because I had asked to borrow some money for a trip. I wouldn’t have minded so much if I had been told that money would be my gift, but it doesn’t matter who you are; the anticipation of a gift without getting something is always disappointing. It even worse when you spend 2 minutes opening three cards and get three 25 dollar Walmart gift certificates then watch others open up expensive crystal figurines and 3 piece luggage sets for the next hour.

Don’t get me wrong, gift cards ARE great…if you run out of time or ideas. I guess I do have a beef with gift cards. If you spend time looking for something or can’t decide what someone wants, by all means buy a gift card! But a gift card bought without spending SOME time and effort is lazy and it has no thought whatsoever. I’d rather get something someone took a bit of time picking out than a generic gift card. Hell, I’d rather a handmade gift over a gift card! I love gifts that I know someone put a lot of thought or love into and gift cards don’t usually fit into that category.

The gifts definitely don’t top my list of my favourite things about Christmas. The number one thing would be spending time with my family. I know it sounds so cliché but it’s true! My favourite part of the Holidays is going to my aunt’s place. At some point during the Holidays my aunt and uncle have everyone over and we set off fireworks, have a bonfire, and when everyone needs to warm up, we go inside for snacks and play board games; often until midnight. I love spending time with my family and all of us only manage to get together 3 or 4 times a year, so when we all manage to get together I really cherish that time

I will end with a short account of Christmas 2010. The only thing I really wanted for Christmas was a new cell phone. I broke my old phone and it needed to be replaced, but the warrantee was expired so a new phone would have to be bought out of pocket. I wanted a BlackBerry, not exactly in our price range to buy out of pocket. So I wasn’t expecting much, but I knew it would be something I loved. So on Christmas morning I let other people open their gifts first, giving me time to make sure I wouldn’t show disappointment when I didn’t get the one thing I really wanted. When the time came to open my gift, I took a deep breath. No amount of lifting and shaking gave me any clue as to what it was. I opened my gift and it was the BlackBerry I had asked for. It was entirely unexpected, as was my reaction; I cried. I didn’t cry because I got what I wanted, I cried because once again my mum did the unexpected.

It was a great Christmas, not because of the gift, but because I spent so much time with my family surrounded by love. I am still kind of bitter about the lack of snow though :P