Wednesday, May 7, 2014

A personal tale of forgiveness




            I need to tell a story... and for those of you reading out there, its a long personal one... but the beauty is you can skip right to the end - or go read the humorous posts that pre-dated this entry.



The past few months my life has been turned upside down. Four months ago I was in one relationship, living with a close friend, and burning the candles at both ends working two jobs, all-the-while being overwhelmed with a chronic back pain issue.
 

Every morning I woke up sad, fatigued, and growing more and more depressed. Each day growing harder then the last - I felt like the insides of my body were churning like milk into butter. I was in this cycle - careening from this revolving door of self deprecating victim hood, to another general feeling of being isolated from the world. I would literally come home everyday thinking; if I died, it would be days before anyone would think to wonder why they hadn't heard from me. I hated who I was, to me; I was a loser with nothing to offer the world.



My relationship with my long-term partner had been one of growth for me. There was a time where I had loved that person very much. And despite the fact we fought hard; we really had some really good times. I was torn between the two different versions of us... the one that got along, laughed until we cried, and the other version that would do anything to upset the other. We were destructive. I take a lot of blame for the ending of the relationship. How can you love somebody fully if you do not love yourself at all? He couldn't be honest with me, because deep down, I was so internally unstable that the reassurance both partners need, couldn't come from me. This was my biggest fault. 



I was surrounding myself with people who were lost in their own emotions, and when I found out my partner had deceived me... I felt in the pits of my stomach true hurt for the first time. I had built this world around myself that had certain people in it - that deep down, didn't have my best interests at heart. Partly due to immaturity, but also due to my complete lack of self-esteem. I attracted the energy that I projected into the world. 



I found out he was unfaithful to me on a Sunday. For so long I had a feeling my gut he was keeping things from me. The intuitions in my soul lead me to lash out at him, sometimes for no reason, because I felt such contempt for him. The fact that, despite how hard I pushed to get inside his heart, he wouldn't let me in.  I only now realize that this was a desperate attempt on my behalf to force someone to provide me with the internal stability I lacked in myself. I felt this weight on me similar to one of guilt, as if, your hand was caught in the proverbial cookie jar.



We spent the morning walking through Chinatown in lovely downtown Vancouver. I lived near there - and the day was crisp, yet bright. The sounds of drums weaved through the streets as if mimicking an aroma through a bakery. We held hands, laughed; I hadn't seen him since he had been gone for two weeks on a business trip to Argentina. I won't lie, I was happy to see him. His normal guarded behavior mysteriously disappeared while he was in South America. He called me everyday, sweet nothings and "I-love-you's" were the resonating messages I had received while he was gone. Something normally not as intensely used in his repertoire of behaviors. But still, I loved the attention.


As we sat down to eat our brunch in False creek, the sun shone over Grouse Mountain, illuminating the city with color, and crispness. He insisted his enthusiasm to show me these pictures from his trip, well-over 200 there were. Pleasantly, I sat there holding his hand as I scrolled through the photographs, him over my shoulder pointing out the photos that he took of the horses, "just for me," because of he knew how much I loved them.


All of a sudden I came upon a video that started earthquake that would initiate the tidal wave of change that hit me at the beginning of this year. 

A women illuminated in a dark room, waist up, nude. This was not my body, this little video with a play button in the middle, was another woman, naked, intimately close on my boyfriends phone. 





Shock rippled through my body, as if frozen I asked him what I was looking at.



As I reacted he snatched the phone from my hands. His body, specifically his hands, was shaking so badly that I still vividly see it today, fumbling with his phone. Like an animal with adrenaline pumping through his veins, he couldn't even pack up his own food because his hands were shaking so terribly. I was begging him to hand me the phone, to let me see it the video so I would know the truth. I said to him, "If you value us at all, and don’t delete that video."


He deleted it. Right there in front of me. He deleted it. 



He deleted any semblance of truth or clarity that I could have had from that situation.  I will never know for certain who that woman was, why she was in a room that looked like a bedroom, and how did she get on the man I had been dating for two years' cell phone. 



He told me he didn't cheat on me, that it was a video of a stripper at a strip club. And he didn't want me to know he went because he thought it would hurt my feelings that he went to a strip club.



I will never know the truth about what happened with him and that woman. 

The fact of the matter is, after that point, I broke up with him, and admirably managed to hold my composure enough to not dump a drink on his head. I was shocked. I was hurt. And I was sad.



Since this day, the breakup has still stayed that, broken. I will never laugh with that man again, never hug him as he bids me goodbye. Since than he has come to me in sorrow, to apologize yet maintain his story of fidelity. He has come to me in acceptance, accepting that I could never trust him again, and that we were over.  And weirdly enough come to me in such malice and anger, that the person who I loved deep down for who I knew he was, seemed to disappear. Willing to accept the words of people with dysfunction in their lives in order to rid himself of the guilt of his actions.  It breaks my heart in a completely different way that out of what happened he had to believe that he was the victim, in order to free himself from the guilt of his actions. People are truly fascinating creatures when it comes to ridding themselves of guilt... or rather deferring it, rather then accepting the truth.



I have learned you cannot put a price on honesty. That the only way one can have a successful partnership is not only to be transparent with your feelings and emotions, whatever they may be, but also to accept that you yourself will make mistakes. And that out of every action against you, is buried an action to help you improve yourself, if you're willing to look at yourself in the mirror, call yourself on your bullshit, and move on.



To that person who I was with: I do not hate you. I forgive you for your dishonesty and misplaced anger. In many ways, I was dishonest with you by not voicing my concerns and fears to you, giving you a chance to trust me, as much as I wanted to trust you. I pray that one day you will see the truth of the situation, and forgive yourself. Because I have forgiven you. Every time I think of you, I send you light and happiness, and let it go. I hope one day you will find that type of forgiveness in me, for my failures.  



Since the end of that relationship... I have undergone severe change in my life; I have rid myself of a significant portion of my friendships that were not in my best interest. Moved from a home filled with tension, anxiety, and false friendship. I have undergone a third back surgery that has been far more painful of a recovery then I was anticipating. But every day I am feeling stronger, better, and happier with my body and my soul. I have made some big mistakes, taken huge risks, and found someone who at least up until this point, has forced down my walls of insecurity with love, tenderness, and patience. I can honestly say, or announce to the world, that I am in love – for the very first time. And he is wonderful, he is sweet, and let's be honest.... you should all be jealous ;-)



Out of this experience, I have learned that we all make mistakes, some large, some small. But it is how we rise up from those mistakes, and the actions we take to better ourselves and learn from them that speak to the content of our characters.

But do not fret my lovely's, just because I am in love doesn't mean I don't have a few more tails of awful dates that I will tell you all about...... just not tonight.



Until next time,           

Good Night World.















Emelia 

xoxox










Friday, March 21, 2014

Spring and Summer 2014 Trends in Men's Fashion


Spring & Summer 2014

Color, Bold Prints, and Suiting Down 



As the days get longer, the temperatures begin to rise, its time to consider what style and trends are resonating in the world of men's fashion. From the colors to the prints, to new slang terms like "Suiting down" here are some things to consider when going through your summer wardrobe:  
  

Tombolini
"Suiting Down"

This is a timeless way of blending business casual with the cool-factor of an awesome graphic tee. Pair a sleek suit that says, "I am successful" with a graphic Tee that says, "I am my own boss." As long as the suit you're wearing is well-tailored and not-too boxy, you'll be the coolest guy in the office. 

Justin Theroux @ GQ - Classic example of "Suiting Down"



Cool graphics make for universal staples in your wardrobe.



Printed shirts are not just for your girlfriend anymore. From the streets of Italy to the sidewalks of Wall Street men are now wearing bold prints, (think floral or bold geometric shirts) with a suit. Just consider the shirt an expression of your personality. Pairing with the neutral gray, navy, or black suit you have worn all winter adds the summer flair you're looking for, without having to buy a whole new spring wardrobe.    


PURE Shirts

Color and texture is a reoccurring trend from the last summer season. We have seen a minor change from the bold neon's of last summer, to more muted pastel colors with a increase in textural fabrics like linen's and seer suckers. Trending in 2014 are boldly colored sport jackets, and we are also seeing suiting step out of the trusty gray-navy-black safety net. From slightly bolder suits that add a bit of flair - like a royal blue in place of the trusty navy, this spring you'll have a lot more options to add suits with flair in your wardrobe.   

One thing I have learned while dressing men is that the style has to be easy and practical. Wearing a bright bold royal blue suit may not appeal to the average business man, who loves his grays and navy's; But having a suit that is bright and different from the norm, also can be broken up as used as a fun sport jacket as well, adds function. It shows that not only do you have your business together, but your style sets you apart from the rest, without being to obnoxious.  




Don't be afraid to be bold, you'd be surprised how trying something different can really open your world to new avenues within your style you didn't even know you had!

Yours in fashion and color,



 











Emelia
Fashion Consultant
Giorgio's for Men 
Vancouver
604-682-2228
fashion@giorgiosformen.com



Monday, January 20, 2014

One Table, Two Rock Bottoms

As a server in this lovely city I call home, I often get to witness the highs and lows of the people from Vancouver. As the everyday waitress, with a smile and laugh painted on my face like thick, old lady make-up, I laugh with you, sympathize with you, and sometimes, I fill the position of one-stop therapist and best friend all rolled into one. 

Today I am going to tell you about a table I had one day, where two very different people hit their proverbial "rock bottoms" all within the same night. I was working at a busy, popular destination-restaurant in the heart of downtown. Working here was always an adventure as my clientele varied daily and the people I worked with were some of the best I have known. 

I start off my evening slow; typical couples coming in for one or two drinks before they headed off to other spots in the area. This was the trend for my evening until I was lucky enough to have a walk-in party of six people, for an after-work Friday celebration of the year-end approaching. 

A boss and his five employees started off like any other table, ordering a round and relaxing amidst the surrounding casual ambiance. Things started to take a weird turn when I noticed one of my patrons staring at another table across the room. And when I say staring, I don't mean the way you look at the hot babe strutting past you in the stilettos and the maybe-too-short dress, I mean STARING, like you have seen a ghost, murdering another ghost. 

At the table in question sat a very pretty blonde woman, who, as it appeared, was having a wonderful date with her boyfriend... or so it seemed.

 I made my way to the back hallway, because although wondering why my guy is displaying borderline stalker tendencies, I have things to do and people to feed. 

While I am standing in the hallway the gentlemen in question comes storming into the area, talking dramatically into his cellphone, and all he kept saying was; "Dude!! I mean it, she's here and you have to see this!! She's like... touching him and kissing him, GET HERE NOW..."

 I did my best to not pry, I mean, I see this stuff all the time, or so I thought. But being a waitress means that sometimes (or... all-the-time) you're treated with a certain.... anonymity, or... well, as if you're not even there at all. 

Roughly 15 minutes later, into my bar walks this 6'4'' tattooed, well-muscled man (can't blame a girl for noticing) and immediately he walks up to the table in question and begins a semi-controlled altercation with the woman at the table. She excused herself, sat with the man (at the end of the table with a visibly uncomfortable business man and the rest of his employees) and they proceeded to have a full blown row. 

This ended abruptly with the woman and her date leaving and the tattoo'ed man looking as though his heart had been skewered and fed to him as one of our high end dishes. 

At this point, I had to go up and investigate and I was told this by the severely down-trodden muscle man: The girl, his long time LIVE-IN girlfriend, was caught by his good friend, the stalker-azzi table watcher, clearly on a romantic date with an unassuming innocent (well, maybe innocent.) To make matters worse, this guy was taking his live-in girlfriend to Mexico the next morning, to go to his sister's wedding, where, he intended at some point in the trip to propose to her. AND she had been texting him all night telling him she was far out in the tri-cities watching movies with her Mommy... 

Uh-oh.... bad girl.

 Now, as shocking as it was, I felt awful for this guy, as did the rest of the table of severely uncomfortable business people. Now enter the Boss. The Boss was the head of his small department working in an eco -conscious company (no more details) He intended to take his staff out for a good time, and clearly was out of sorts due to the severity of the drama that ensued from the friend of his employee. To make a bad situation... better (?) the boss began ordering rounds, upon rounds, of shots. 

Now, before you hastily judge that I may have blatantly over served this party... One thing as a server you learn is that although you can do your very best to manage people's intake of alcohol, that you are not people's mother. It is really not my problem if you can't handle your alcohol and you choose to order it.... I can only assist you in getting out of my establishment with as much dignity as possible, and make sure that if I can anticipate the drunkness, to do my best to steer you in a direction of NOT making a fool of yourself. 

 So as the night went on, the tattooed man took himself and his bleeding heart home, and I was left with the original group and their still uncomfortable boss... After considerable rounds (think more than 12) most of the party that had lingered was having a great time (occasionally yelling "Emeliooooooooooo" when they needed me) 

As I am doing the rounds, I look at Boss man, he looks drowsy, and in waitress speak, that means #1 you're cut off, #2 You should bring him a coffee or some food to sober up. After refusing food, I brought him a hot cup of joe, and I realized his condition had somehow deteriorated even further, and I knew it was time to wrap it up. Up over my shoulder I hoisted Mr. Bossman, 190 lbs of flailing, dead weight. I did my best to maneuver this man who was considerably heavier than I was.

 After making a harrowing journey I reach that back hallway that was attached to the restrooms and.... well... we didn't make it. Bossman proceeded to (with awesome skill) projectile vomit over everything in front of him [except me]. I placed him in the washroom and sought to sorting the now "chunky" hallway. Once the exterior situation was under (semi) control I enlisted my cast- iron stomach that comes with being the middle of seven kids and a lot of family pets, and I went in. And what I saw... I just... wasn't ready for. 

There, passed out on the bathroom floor was Bossman. Naked. 

Like... really naked. 

And on a side note, he had the STRANGEST body hair I had EVER seen. Like... shoulder pads and ... (I am going to spare you.... but it was so weird that its hard not to tell you about it)
 

While this was going on, his female employee came up and greeted me. This woman was the sweetest thing I have ever seen, maybe 5'2, 100lbs soaking wet. She came up to me, her timid little self, and told me she felt awful for me and that I shouldn't have to deal with this, and if I just let her, she'll go in and take care of her ailing boss. I couldn't let her... not after what I had just saw. She insisted, and I told her this: 

"Look love, what I have seen in there is something that not only he would die of embarrassment if he knew you saw, that you would never be able to look at him the same again if you did. I don't have to work with him every day, and I don't have to count on him to give me constructive criticism. So, go sit down, relax. and Let me do what I do, and take care of this."

 I felt she understood my point and she returned to her seat. So after the gathering shock, I composed myself and went in, again. Realizing in his stripping down that he had absolutely ruined the shirt he was wearing, I had to improvise. After retrieving and old sweater from the lost and found, I redressed him, got him on his feet and straightened him up. 

 I remember looking at him like a canvas of art.... It wasn't what I pictured... but it would work. So, the rest is fairly uneventful... I got him up, out and on with his life.... and have never seen Mr. Tattoo's or The Boss man since. 

 Moral of the story.... Going out and getting drunk is sometimes fun, sometimes messy, and always remembered (even if you don't remember it) 

 Until next time,

 In sobrietry, (for now)



 Emelia
 xoxox

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Dear World, I am Tired


I woke up today, and guess what, world? I am tired.

I am tired of dragging myself out of bed two hours before I need to leave the house so that I have enough time to shave my legs and arm pits, to style my hair, and slather chemicals on my face to cover up the one that I was born with, because it is not beautiful enough.

I am tired of counting the calories in my breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks to make sure I don't eat more than 1200 per day - you can't lose weight and get a flat stomach by eating too much.

I am tired of looking at my dog as he begs me to take him for his morning walk; but, I won't leave the house until the contouring paint is perfect - I don't want anyone outside to see how fat my face looks without it.

I am tired of going to the gym for two hours a day to make sure that I burn at least 700 calories so that people will stop calling attention to the way my back fat shows through my t-shirt or the way my muffin top is evident when I wear a shirt that actually fits.

I am tired of wearing baggy tops because I don't want people to think I am a "slut" if the shape of my breasts is visible. And, I am tired of making sure that the neckline of my shirt isn't "too low cut" for the same reason - I have to be a respectful young woman, don't you know? I also don't want to "attract the wrong type of attention", because this might cause someone else to misbehave.

I am tired of the look of disappointment on my partner's face when I go to bed early and tell him that "I'm not in the mood" because I don't feel like I can measure up to the "beautiful" "sexy" girls on the magazines or in the movies.

I am tired of the images and expectations that are being forced upon myself and young women across the globe that tell them that they are not, and never will be, good enough. You must dress this way, you must wear your hair like this, you have to have a great smile, etc. This is unrealistic.

Something  has to change. The media no longer tells us we need to be skinny to look good, they tell us it's for our own health, to be fit… "this is what your body should look like." Right… It's the same message: you, as you are, are not good enough.

World, I am worried. I am worried that this is just going to get worse. It needs to change, NOW! I am only 23 years old; I have a long time left on this planet, but I am already too tired. I can't continue to live my life this way, or I will melt into exhaustion.

We need to make a change. We need to educate young women, and men, in regards to the effect that the media and cultural expectations and ideals have on us. We need to support our youth, and tell them that they ARE beautiful, they ARE good enough. They do not need to change who they are to be accepted. However, just saying this to your son/daughter/partner/friend is not good enough: you have to believe in this and accept it yourself.

It begins with us, and, hopefully, in the future,  we will be able to live our own lives and not the lives that others thrust upon us. Hopefully, one day, we can stop taking caffeine pills and wake up all on our own.

Yours in this relentless race to perfection,

Ashley