March 26: Walking for Victims and Survivors of Violence and Abuse

Today marked the first day in the walk that I was walking for someone other than myself.  I didn't pick a name today, instead, I chose to walk for everyone who has been touched by violence or abuse in some way; whether you are a victim, a survivor or someone you love is a survivor.

One thing that I thought about as I set out on my walk is that we often think that we are alone.  If we disclose, everyone we know will abandon us or not believe us.  In some cases, some of the people that we rely on do, in fact, leave but it is never about you. It is simply that they cannot grasp the pain that is endured by many around the world.  It is more about them and their foibles than it is about you and if they cannot be there for you when you need them most, then they were never there in the first place.

But those are not the people that we look at.  The people that matter will be there for you and there are always other people; survivors, counselors, loved ones, and even strangers, that will be there for you.  They will help you overcome the pain of your past and lead you to a future that you deserve.

So today I walked for all of you and I wasn't alone in my walk.  Instead, I walked with you in my head and heart; the steady thump of my dog's feet at my side.  The world opened up around me.  It started off gray, we are still in the grip of winter, but as I walked through the trees, sunlight trickled down onto us.  The snow is still here, the trees still barren but as I walked, I noticed the spaces where I can see grass.  As I walked, I could feel the warmth of the sunlight and see the squirrels scurrying over the snow.  As I walked, I could hear the birds singing and all of it felt like hope.

And that is where my walk took me today...to the realization that no matter how dark the winter, spring will come and with it hope.

Mileage: 2.741

Total: 5.011/1,000

Daisy standing guard while I took the photo.

If you would like me to walk for someone, please email me at sirena.van@sympatico.ca

My 1000 miles challenge was inspired by Angela Giles Klocke and her own 1000 miles journey.  You can find Angela's journey at Scars and Tiaras.  Please visit her site and her facebook page to learn more about how you can get involved in the 1000 miles challenge.

1000 Miles: The First Miles are For Me 2.270

The first miles are for me.  That is how I started this project and it was inspired by Angela Giles Klocke who started her journey in January.  You can read about her journey and her challenge at http://scarsandtiaras.com/1000-miles. 

My journey started yesterday with me walking 2.270 miles.  I had planned on only starting with a mile but I continued on after that first mile and kept walking.  I wanted to start right but I wasn’t sure if I could continue walking after that first mile.  Still, I made it and over and felt proud of myself. It was a challenge and like many aspects of my past, I overcame it.

But why am I walking?  If you haven’t read the scars and tiaras blog, I am walking for the same reason as Angela Giles Klocke...to honor those who have been lost, those who have been victimized, those who have survived and those who are on the path to thriving from the effects of abuse, violence, neglect and mistreatment. 

Every step that I take in this journey will be for others but these first miles are for me.  If you haven’t realized from much of my blog, I suffered from childhood abuse.  It was hard coming to terms with all that I had suffered but after seeking counselling for it in my 20’s, I was able to overcome many of the feelings of self doubt that I had.  However, the journey from survivor to someone who thrives is not an easy one and there are times that my self confidence is hit hard, the scars that have healed will, at times, hurt from past memories but every year, as I build up my confidence, they don’t hurt as often or as much.

I am blessed to have a loving husband that has helped me through much of my healing process and I am blessed to be a mother.  The things I want for my children are so much more than what I had for myself and every part of me goes into creating a better life for my family.

And they are thrilled that I am doing this.  My own children have asked to come along on some of the walks, especially on the weekends, and I will be taking the journey with my own companion.  For shorter days, I will be walking with my English Mastiff and for longer days, I will be walking with my Labrador Retriever. 

So What Are You Doing Exactly?

Like Angela GilesKlocke, every day, I will be walking for someone whose life has been touched by abuse or violence.  I will place their name or initials on a note card and I will carry their name as I walk.

During the walk, I will take a picture of the card and post it here on the blog, on the facebook page and also on my twitter account.  I will share stories if I am asked to. 

Each walk will be dedicated to one person or one family and I will not carry more than one so that each walk is special to those people. 

How Long will You Walk?

Every day will be different and will depend on the weather, how I am feeling, my commitments during that day and also the day of the week.  I hope to walk at least 2 miles every day but there will be days when the walk will be shorter and days when the walk will be longer.

In total, my goal is to walk 1000 miles in honor of victims and survivors of abuse and violence in one year.  So by March 25^th, 2015, I will have 1000 miles down.  

Will You Walk for Me or My Loved One?

Yes, I would be honored to walk for you or your loved one.  Simply send me a message to sirena.van@sympatico.ca with the following:

Subject: Please Walk for _____________

In the body of the email, let me know any information that you would like me to share on the blog post.  In addition, please let me know if you would like me to write something important on the card such as “Survivor” or “RIP”.   You can use initials or first name, or a full name.  You can also share a bit of the history or nothing at all. This is completely up to you.   

What will Happen If You Don’t Have Anyone to Walk For?

Sadly, there is always someone to walk for and if it comes down to me not having a name on my list for someone to walk for, then I will find a name in the news. On those days, I will write down the name and will walk in honor of that person. 

Does It Cost Money for you to Walk in My Honor?

No, I am not asking for any monetary compensation so please do not send me any. If you would like to donate, please donate to a local charity for survivors of violence and abuse.

Since this campaign was inspired by Angela’s Scars and Tiaras walk, if you are not sure of a charity to give to but would like to donate to one, please use the charity that Angela is directing funds to.  This is the Tellar Safe Habor, which is trying to fund the creation of a safe house in their area.  You can donate to them here http://tellercountysafehouse.org/help.html.

How do you Track your Mileage?

I am using both a pedometer and I am charting my course on a map site before I head out.  Every day, I will start from my front door and take a different route before returning home. 

If you have any questions for me, please let me know.  I have already started my 1000 miles with 2.270 miles being finished.  Yesterday, I walked for me, today, I will be walking for all the victims of violence and abuse but I have already started adding names for my walk.  If you would like me to walk in honor of you or someone you know, please send me an email.

Thank you for your support as I walk these 1000 miles.

Who I am walking for this week

March 25: Sirena Van Schaik

March 26: Survivors and Victims of Violence and Abuse

March 27: Family

March 28: SMD - Survivor of Childhood Neglect, Rape and Spousal Abuse

March 29: 

March 30: Lisa Seeber - RIP March 22, 2014, Victim of Murder/Suicide

My 15th Wedding Anniversary

15 years ago, I said I do to my true love.

I met him when I was 16 and when people ask how we met, I don’t have the romantic story, the meet cute as it were.  I merely stumbled into the room, the bravado of youth on my lips as my 18 year old, best friend remarked at my appearance, “Sirena, you look like shit.”

I want to say that I answered the statement with decorum and grace but I didn’t.  I was a 16 year old girl after all and I had been running around gathering the supplies for said friend’s baby shower.  So my reply was as colorful as the gift wrapped presents in my bag, “Of course I look like shit. I have been running my ass all over this fucking town for you.”

And with that said, I turned to find three, very stunned people standing behind me.  James, his sister and his mother, all of them down from Ontario for the baby shower.  I remember my face turning 50 shades of red as I murmured an apology and I felt flustered as James stared at me, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth.  He has told me over the years that he fell in love with me at that moment.  I have always laughed and said, “Well, at least you knew what you were getting before you bought it.”

James had come down to British Columbia to meet his baby nephew.  We spent the next 2 weeks getting to know each other and while we didn’t say much, I felt a connection to him.  The morning he left to go back to Ontario, I felt my heart break and I couldn’t explain why.  I cried for the opportunity I was losing and I spent the hours before everyone woke up wishing that I could see him again.

I did, within a month, James had moved to BC and within a few weeks, we were dating.  He didn’t ask me out.  There were no dates.  One day we weren’t together, playing sword fights in the autumn sun with a large group of friends; laughing as the empty, 2 litre pop bottles that we were brandishing as swords smashed against one another.  And then we were; walking together as the warmth of the autumn day disappeared into a crisp evening and he wrapped his arms around me to fight off the chill.  And I realized then that I had found something special, something that meant so much more than the school girl crushes that I had had before.

When I was 17, I moved in with James, much to the dismay of my mother but I ignored her words and in the middle of our latest fight, I packed my bags and stormed out.  Maybe it wasn’t the best way to start my life with James but things are what they are.

It wasn’t right for me to start it the other way either, when I stood in front of him, telling him all the things that I wouldn’t put up with...

“If you hit me, I’ll leave you...”

“If we have kids together and you hit them, we’ll leave you and you will never see them again...”

“If you cheat on me, if you had loved me at all, don’t lie to me; tell me so we can let each other go...”

“I won’t marry you...ever...so don’t ask.”

Scars rained down on him with my words.  All the pain, hurt, distrust that had broken me by this point were laid bare at his feet and all he could say to me was,

“I won’t hit you; I love you.”

“I won’t hit my kids; I love you.”

“I won’t cheat; I love you.”

“And maybe someday...”

And during those first few months together, when I would wake up in the middle of the night, tears wracking my body, he wouldn’t pull me close.  He would lie still, staring at my back as I cried and it was in those moments that I felt safest.  He didn’t touch me, didn’t force me to take comfort from him.  On nights when I wanted to rail against the world, against him, he would quietly accept it, rising to the challenge of my fight.   James knew from the very beginning what I needed and he would wait patiently for me to return to bed.  To fall asleep against him as his arms were finally able to wrap themselves around me and protect me from all the hurt that plagued my dreams. I fell in love with him more every day as I realized that his words and actions were the same.

By 18, James realized BC was not where he wanted to be and he made the decision to move back to Ontario.  He asked me to go with him.  At first I said no, but at the thought of losing him, of not taking that step wrenched my heart from me and I said yes.  Waiting for the plane was one of the scariest moments of my life.  I was giving myself completely to the man sitting beside me and I was trusting in him to keep me safe in the strange place I was heading.

And life went on. I learned new things, met new people and I realized that my home didn’t have to be in BC.  It was here with the man I loved.  But still, I couldn’t make the commitment.  He would ask and I would say no, I am not getting married...

...at 18, I laughed.

...at 19, I cried.  “How could you want a girl that was already broken when you met her?”

But I wasn’t sure if I was broken anymore. I felt the scars, felt the hard lines on my soul and I knew that he was slowly fixing me. Making me trust, making me hope, making me realize that I was worth something...worth loving.

So I didn’t scoff at his idea of marriage as much and when we decided to get married, it wasn’t him getting down on bended knee; he knew me better than I knew myself, knew that it would frighten me away.  He waited for me to say the words, to tell him that I was ready for something more.  And when I did, he jumped at the chance and we started planning our wedding.

It wasn’t until a month before our wedding that he took me out for a romantic dinner and then walked me down by the river.  He stopped by a large pine tree, its needles green with life; he got down on his knee and asked me to marry him.  In his nervousness, he slipped the ring on the wrong finger and I laughed to hide the tears in my eyes as I said, “Did you think I was going to say no this close to the day? You’re mother would kill me.”

When the wedding day arrived, I didn’t panic like I have heard other brides have done.  I went to sleep the night before, a letter of love that James had written sitting on my pillow, and I woke up feeling calm.  There were no doubts, no second thoughts that had me wondering if I should call it off. At the age of 21, a young bride to many, I was ready.  So I said I do to my true love and realized that the part I thought had been broken wasn’t anymore and it was the man standing before me that had fixed it...fixed me.

And today, as I celebrate our 15^th wedding anniversary and 20 years together, I say I do again.  The years have flown by.  We have had good times, bad times and even boring times.  We have held each other, cried together, celebrated the birth of not one, but two, amazing children.  We have found each other again and again when we have drifted apart.  Through it all, James has kept the promises that he made to that scared 17 year old girl and he has made and fulfilled new ones along the way.

I am so thankful for my life with my husband.  Thankful that he was patient with the broken girl he found swearing in a kitchen and helped her find her way.  Without him I would not be whole.  He is my everything and I could not imagine a day without him.  So James, today, I want you to know that I love you with all my soul and I am honored that you spent the last 20 years with me and look forward to 50 more. 

Extreme Couponing Ontario Style

I know, I know, I missed two days of my 30 day challenge for blogging.  Yes, it happened only 3 days in but I have a very good excuse. I was so sick, I could barely make it out of bed.  I didn't do any of my challenges, instead, I laid as still as possible to avoid emptying my stomach.  It was a horrible way to spend two days and today is the first day that I haven't spent with my stomach in my throat.

So to make it short, I am restarting the 30 day challenge with today being day 1 again.  As you know, if you fail, you can just pick yourself up and start over.  There is no reason to give up and throw in the towel.  While I didn't fail exactly, I still want to start at day 1 instead of carrying on.  Partly due to the fact that I am still not a 100% recovered from the flu and partly because I want to succeed from start to finish without any delays along the way.

But now that you know exactly what happened to me over the last two days, I just want to share an experience that I had on Saturday.

First, where I live, we don't coupon.  There is no extreme couponing and you are lucky to find one or two coupons on a trip to the store.  I am not sure if this is a Canada wide phenomenon but every place in Canada that I have lived have been devoid of coupons.  I don't think much of it, except for days when I read articles about buying $500 worth of groceries for less than $80.

However, what we do have in Canada is that some stores will offer you 20% less (Rates vary depending on the store) if you can find the exact same product in a different store for a lower price.  Most people don't really do this but as I stumbled into the grocery store on Saturday, trying to deny the fact that I was, in fact, sick; I came across a woman and her husband that did exactly this.

Somehow, I made it through the shopping. I pulled into a line that looked like it was going fast.  I stood there as the woman took out huge stacks of grocery store flyer's and started flipping through it.  Odd, I thought to myself.  Then I watched in disbelief as she continued to flip through each flyer trying to locate all of the items she was buying. The cashier was being very patient but as I stood there, bile began to rise up my throat and the bathroom sign across the way was looking like my only salvation in the store.

Twenty minutes later...when I was ready to scream, the woman finally admitted defeat over one item that she had been arguing over for 5 minutes and said she would go to customer service.  I understand the why of extreme couponing but as I stood there, clutching my stomach, singing the words to the Lego Lord of the Rings game in a futile attempt to calm my stomach, I realized that there should be a special place for it.

I am all for letting people have special "couponing" lines so the poor, miserable person who doesn't want to save...namely me when my temperature is spiking up to a 103, doesn't have to wait in line behind them.  So what do you think?  Should couponers have their own line?

Lake of the Woods

Lake of the Woods from One Shore

Today, the warmth of the sun is filling my home and my keyboard.  Literally.  As I sat outside in the sun, I could feel the laptop slowly heating up until I realized that it was time to take it in to cool it off.  It is a beautiful spring day and the temperature reminds me of early summer, not the beginning of May.

I am looking forward to swimming.  I love swimming actually and I am a water child completely, which is suitable as I am a Scorpio.  Actually, I find that I feel my best when there is water surrounding me - I am the women who stands in the shower, the warm water beating down on her, and thinks, "This is it, I am never getting out again."

With large bodies of water, I am exactly the same. I love feeling the pull of the water that threatens to drag you down into the depths.  I used to be terrified of it.  Used to wonder if I would drown the next time I stepped into the cold waves.  I had nearly drowned several times - once in a backyard pool - but when I was 15, I overcame my fear completely and began swimming in a lake on my own.

Actually, it had become a ritual for me that summer.  I would wake up every morning, well before any of my friends would be up, and scramble out of bed.  The short 5 minute jog to the lake would leave me breathless standing on the shores of Lake of the Woods.  I would stand on the shore, gazing at the large rocks on the opposite side, the wild forest stretching out as far as my imagination would take it.

The cold water would look like a slate of gray and I would always hesitate, the cool air prickling the bare skin my bikini wouldn't cover.  Then, with a deep breathe, I would wade into the water and launch myself into its depths.

The lake was bottomless, or at least that was what I was told.  I found out later that it was only 12 metres in depth but when I was 15, there was something exhilerating thinking the bottom hadn't been found.  There was a whole world sliding under my floating body.  I could feel it, just below me, as curious about me as I was about it.

I would swim across the lake, my chest burning as I neared the far shore and I would scramble up onto the rocks and catch my breath.  My teeth would chatter at the change of temperature but I would feel at peace.  Nothing was ever at the lake except the local wildlife and it was exactly how I wanted it.  I would go early enough to beat the daily swimmers and I could imagine that the lake was mine.

Occasionally, I would stop swimming in the middle of the lake and turn over onto my back.  I would float on the gray expanse and think to myself, "This is it, I am never getting out."

My long, dirty blond hair would float on the surface of the water around me, getting heavier and darker the longer I floated on my back. I would focus on that hair.  Feeling its weight pulling me down into the water before I allowed it to drag me into the dark depths.

I would relax into the coolness of the water as it closed over my head, my breath trapped in my chest, straining to get out. I would wait, eyes closed, face turned up toward the sunlight trickling dimly through the water and feel the strange combination of warmth and cold.

When my chest began to burn, I would burst from the water and draw in as much oxygen as I could.  Then I would turn my eyes back to the shore I had come from and return to it.  Usually by the time I managed to make it back, the early swimmers would be walking down the hill to the lake.

I would collect my stuff and head home, my lake no longer mine.  I knew then that I shouldn't have been swimming on my own.  So much could have happened but if it hadn't been for that summer, I don't think I would have loved the water as much as I do now.

And that is what I was thinking about today as the sun was trickling through the tree branches, how lovely it would be to swim in my lake today.