What is keeping us from ourselves?

I guess it doesn’t matter how many times I tell women how beautiful they are. It doesn’t even matter showing them how amazing their bodies are, regardless of their weight. Recently, I was lucky enough to speak at a radio show with the Wise Women Canada, and I honestly thought more women would come to me — but no, they didn’t. I’m not frustrated; I’m sad. Do you know why? Because I go for a walk with my son every day at the park, and I see so clearly the difference between the women who feel confident, and the ones who don’t. I always have my flyers and my business cards with me, but I just feel like they would through it out in less than 5 minutes.

So please, talk to me. Of course my work is not for free, but that’s really not why I’m trying to reach out to you (I have a son to support, so unfortunately I can’t do it for free. But I’m pretty sure my price is the lowest you will find in Montreal.)

You know who’s the person who helps me the most? My husband, Jeremy. Even when I was pregnant and huge, he would look at me and tell me how beautiful I was. Not a day goes by without him looking at me and telling me, “damn, you’re so hot!” Yes, I’m lucky to have him. But if your husband doesn’t say that to you every day, I DO.

You’re hot, you’re beautiful, you’re amazing.

This is one of my favourite scenes, EVER. It’s from the movie “Eat, Pray, Love.” Please, watch it (it’s less than 2 minutes! Come on!).

 

That’s my message to you (and myself, obviously).

Love,

Roberta

 

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Painful heart

This is for you who thinks you’re not worth it — but you are. Here’s to all of your blank nights, blank days and blank souls. Cheers! Let’s drink to all your sadness. All your lonely days, and your lonely nights. Let’s drink to all your misery; let’s drink to all our misery — all at once, all at the same time. Every time you think you’re alone, you’re not. I’m here with you, we’re here with you. Embrace the sadness, embrace the dark. There’s no light, there’s no happy ending. It’s just you and me; it’s just you and the rest of the world. Everybody is sad, there’s always something missing. Happiness is just around the corner, but you keep reminding me of what sadness feels like.

Skydiving

I feel my heart bursting; it’s beautiful, intense and painful at the same time. Past, present and future — together, apart, all mixed up. Where have I seen these promises and dreams before? I know where my fears hide; I know every disguise, every dark corner of my broken mind. I’m scared, I’m thrilled and I’m everything in between; it’s all or nothing — a deep, silent ocean and the wind caressing the trees, or a beautiful and loud thunderstorm ripping the skies apart. Amidst all the chaos, I found a way back to myself: a path I’ve never thought I’d be able to choose, but I did. And it’s so beautiful, so perfectly right and good for me that it makes me shiver, it makes me wanna lose control. It makes me wanna jump and take a leap of faith — but what if I fall straight to the ground again? See, it’s too late, because I’m already falling. I’m in the air, my arms are wide open and so is my heart. I’m skydiving. I’m skydiving with you.

That’s for you, you and you

One, two, three different versions of me. They were all beautiful and they are all gone, done. The dead among the living, the dreams turned into shadows.

You.

I miss being myself around you. I miss the jokes, the laughs. I miss the free version of me. I miss not having to control myself, and I miss listening to your words like music. One. You broke my heart.

You.

I miss the butterflies in my stomach, I miss how you made me feel alive. In the Valley of Broken Minds you were my favourite creature, the only one who could show me light. “I wish you were here.” Two. There’s only darkness again.

You.

I miss the hope, the possibilities. A new beginning that was dead from the start. Truth is, I never even wanted to want; I just wanted to be wanted. Three. I am alone and that’s just fine.

One, two, three versions of me walking around.

One, two, three versions of me dying a little as the days go by.

Blurred painting

Blank. My defences were low and my emotions were running free, willing to create the most beautiful thing one would ever see. I started with the colours, not the shapes. Black and white to keep the basics, a very pale pink to give it some life, and the most beautiful bright blue in the world to make it deeply soulful. Once I had chosen the colours, I needed to choose the right brushes; and that’s what I did — I carefully chose each and every one of them. I opened the window and looked at the clouds; they were ready to witness what I was about to start. It took me a while to finally have the courage to start filling the white canvas with the colours, I won’t lie. It was the blue — yes, that blue — that gave me the push I needed. The brush in one hand, a hot cup of coffee in the other; I was unstoppable. “Why not?”, I asked myself, while visualizing in my head what I desperately wanted to become true.

Black. The movement was soft, tender. I could feel my heart beating as I stroked the white canvas with my modified brush — I felt powerful. “It can’t be that hard”, I thought. With the black I created the shapes; I created the most remarkable assets for mundane eyes. It was irregular, unique; it was special. Black, black, black. I took a sip of coffee; it was getting warm — not too hot, not yet too cold –, it was the perfect temperature. Black and white were finally blended; my creation had started to make some progress.

Pink. Just a little, not too much. A pale pink to illustrate the blood; flushed. Emotions, words, confessions, and silence; they all had the same colour. Pink, pink, pink. I left the coffee aside. The stains on my dress won’t let me lie; It was already a piece of art.

Blue. At this point I was a beast; running freely in the woods. I was myself, I wasn’t hiding; I was completely carefree. Happiness lies through details of life; that’s why I finished my painting with the blue. It’s deep, it’s hard, — it’s you. Blue, blue, blue. I couldn’t find my coffee. I closed my eyes and let it flow; the deeper I went, the further you go. Time was something completely obsolete, a stranger in my life. My painting was perfect, flawless. For one brief moment I was an artist, nothing could have stopped me; I had created a work of art.

Blurred. My excitement lead me astray. Pink and black, white and blue; all the colours got mixed up — a storm had started. At first I could only feel the droplets; they were silently invading my house and touching my painting with hostility. Blurred, blurred, blurred. I should have closed the window. Looking around, I saw my cup of coffee; something was telling me I might have left it aside for too long.

Blank. The storm had destroyed my painting; I could feel my heart pounding — I have lost it all. I knew I wouldn’t be able to recreate such beauty, not even if I tried a thousand times. Blank, blank, blank. I had a dream and it had vanished; I knew how beautiful it could have been, and that’s what hurts the most. I close my eyes and I can still see the blue — your blue –, what a daunting feeling.

My hands are cold, and so is my coffee; the excitement has gone away.

A letter to the dead

What would you say if you could write one last letter to the dead — a dead person you loved very much? Would you waste your last chance with sorrow or would you use this opportunity to say how much you love them and how much you appreciate everything they’ve done? Would you ask for forgiveness? Or would you let them know you’ve truly forgiven them? Now let me ask you a few more questions. What if the dead person was you? Would you be so kind and thankful towards yourself? Most importantly, would you forgive yourself for all the bad things you’ve done? Life and death walk side by side, we never really know when our last chance to redemption will be — so why not start today? People make mistakes all the time, we are only human. What makes the difference is changing what we will do in the future. If you’ve done something wrong, ask for forgiveness. If you’ve had an argument with someone you love (significant other, family, friends, etc), tell them you’re sorry. It might sound a little morbid, but pretend you are all going to die tomorrow. Don’t go to bed with regret — this is the worst thing in the world. Don’t wait to fix things up later — fix it now! Change everything you can in order to be happy. If you know you’re doing something that will hurt someone else, stop it. Find the will to surpass your ego — there’s nothing wrong in asking for forgiveness and admitting you were wrong. Don’t be the one responsible for someone else’s sadness. Never hurt the people you love. You never know when their last day alive will be — or yours.

An honest cry out for help

This letter was written by my best friend — a person who has not had an easy life emotionally, not until now. His honest cry out for help could change many people’s lives. Unfortunately, I know he’s not alone.


“I’m not the kind of person who likes to share my personal life and thoughts on Facebook — I know most of the time it doesn’t make any difference. Today, I realized there’s something I really feel like sharing — something I’ve been keeping to myself ever since I was younger. I would really appreciate if people read it — that’s the whole point of posting something, I guess. 

Even though I have a family and friends who never let me down, I’ve been afraid for too long. I can only imagine how hard it must be when all your fears come true — when your friends leave you aside, when your parents don’t want you to live with them anymore, when someone dies or suffers some kind of violence for being gay. I also imagine how hard it must be to keep this secret in fear throughout your life. A fear that keeps you from doing almost everything — from taking chances and opportunities to be happy. People usually say, “You’re young, beautiful, wealthy and healthy. What else do you expect from life?”

In fact, “fear” might not be the right word to describe it. Maybe there’s no definition to what I feel every time someone says something absurd about my sexuality. (And about others, too.) I would never want to put a label on anyone, specially on myself. How wonderful would it be if we lived in a world without any type of prejudice? Unfortunately, we don’t. A lot of people suffer because of other people’s prejudice against homossexuality. Being gay doesn’t keep me from doing anything nowadays — but it had before. Not because I felt incapable of doing anything — nobody ever denied me a job position for being gay, for example. What kept me from doing things was the fear of people treating me differently because I’m gay. I don’t want to disrespect anyone’s opinion, but I truly believe every kind of love should be respected — both heterossexual and homossexual. 

What I really meant to say was that it’s time to make a change. Some people like to pretend they are self-aware of the Universe, that they are loving and caring towards other people (the poor, the sick and the hopeless) and animals. These are the same people who are completely blind when it comes to helping a person who is suffering prejudice right in front of their eyes. Many people suffer every day for not being accepted and respected for being who they truly are — specially by their families and close friends. It pains me to see how many people are completely abandoned by their families for being gay. Parents are no longer parents and they’re orphans all of a sudden. Some of them commit suicide, some suffer from depression or even make abusive use of drugs because of this ignorant behaviour. Why it’s so hard to love one another? People who decide to have children should love them, not judge them so harshly. 

People should think twice before making fun of homossexuality. Put yourself in their shoes. Can you imagine how hard it must be to see people making fun of who you are and who you love? Saying that Drag Queens should only go out at night or that two men (or women) cannot kiss in public is completely outrageous. How can some people say that an act of love can incite so much hate and violence? The next time you hear something like that, try to imagine how dreadful it would be if you couldn’t feel safe to go out with your wife or husband — not without fearing you could both be beaten just for being together, walking hand-in-hand. Or if you owned something you love and couldn’t wear it because of the fear of being robbed. Now try to imagine how infuriating it is not to be able to be yourself — all the time. Not being accepted at home, by your own parents. This outraging feeling is what thousands of people feel every day because they are too afraid of living their lives the way they want to. Countless people suffer in silence all the time, locked in their rooms and away from the world. Some people are incapable of developing healthy social relationships because of the fear of not being accepted. This is the main cause of both depression and suicidal thoughts. 

So before saying anything superficial and inaccurate about homossexuality, try to put yourself in their shoes. Understand how hard you can make someone else’s life by being so biased. For all the gay people around the world — you are not alone. This is a fight we will fight together. If you mistreat gays and lesbians, try to imagine how you would feel if someone treated you the same way.”


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