Taken from her recent article in HWS magazine, Alyssa says

​ "As women we are inundated with images of how the female body is supposed to look. If we don't like our body, we can nip it, tuck it, inject it and change it. So that's what I did"

In 2009 Alyssa chose to have breast augmentation. In 2018 she learned that breast implant - associated anaplastic large cell lymphoma  (BIA-ALCL) cancer can be associated with textured implants.

It was shortly after hearing this horrible news, she sent the following message to all of her female friends and family. 

This is not a chain email. Please consider this information I am about to share.

I am sending you this message because you are my friend. You are female. You may be going through what I’m about to share, or know someone who is. And I am genuinely concerned for your health and well being regarding a topic you may not be aware of. I would like to emphasize that I am not telling you this information, to gain sympathy. And I am certainly not sharing this information to be judged or criticized.

It was after much deliberation and discussion with women who should be informed about this matter, and weren’t, that I decided I should share my story to the women who are near and dear to me and who may be unaware of this ailment.

So here goes..... I have Allergan 410 textured Breast implants. This is important, because they are the current model of implant that is most associated with Breast Implant Associated-Anapolastic Large Cell Lymphoma or BIA-ALCL. This is a Lymphatic Cancer that grows within the scar tissue capsule that is created by the body, and forms around the implant, shortly after the implant is placed. Someone with these implants may experience swelling, pain, itch and rash around the breast area, as well as breast firmness, or unexplained weight loss and night sweats. Symptoms of this particular lymphoma, generally present themselves after several years of placement. My implants were inserted in 2009.

My first occurrence of signs and symptoms was in September of 2017, and have intensified since. My implants will be removed on May 1, 2019, by way of an En Bloc/ total capsulectomy procedure. This is a rather invasive method, and comes with many risks. So many, the procedure cannot be guaranteed to be performed correctly by most physicians. Once the implants are removed, they will then be sent off for pathology and be biopsied by way of a CD30 test, which is given to determine whether or not I have BIA-ALCL. This is not a breast cancer. It is a lymphatic cancer that forms within the capsule. It is difficult to diagnose through diagnostic imaging, such as ultrasound, MRI or mammogram.

Many women go many years with this in their bodies unaware of having this cancer until it is removed, along with their implants and implant capsules. I was not told by my original plastic surgeon in 2009, when I got my implants, that I could develop this rare cancer. I was not given proper informed consent. I was not told of the heavy metal chemical make up of these particular implants, and the autoimmune ailments that go along with heavy metal exposure.

I was not shown any warning labels or given any cautionary direction. Instead I was told the Allergan Textured Implant were safe and long lasting. I was told, aside from regular breast screening, I would not have to worry about these implants for the next 20-30 years. I was misled. I was not warned by my Plastic Surgeon or the manufacturer (Allergan) in 2011 when the first case of BIA-ALCL presented itself. I was not notified by Health Canada or my GP or the ultrasound tech or the thermography tech or my nurse practitioner, in 2017, when I first presented with signs and symptoms of BIA-ALCL. Even though there were 700 cases world wide, 12 deaths and 38 countries had banned the use and sale of this particular implant. I was never warned.

No one had brought this particular Breast Implant Associated Cancer to my attention. No one in the medical field knew what to look for or what my problem was or how to treat it. In fact it wasn’t until I did my own research did I begin to get answers. It was a conversation with a good friend of mine, in November if 2018 that lead me to a CTV news report featuring the first diagnosed patient in Canada who had ALCL and Allergan Textured implants. The very same implant that sits upon my chest wall. From there I have joined numerous Facebook support groups to help guide me to the right surgeon, the right testing and the right procedures to follow, to ensure proper testing and care. This has been a challenge for me and for my general practitioner, due to the lack of information made available to her. However, with the help of the ladies who have gone through this and who have become advocates for care in this matter, I have been directed to the right path. I am not telling you this to scare you. That is not my intention. BIA-ALCL is a curable lymphoma. It is rare and it is associated with textured implants only (at this time).

I am telling you this, because maybe no one has and maybe you know someone who needs to know.

​I’d like to close with this personal, opinionated message. If you have ever thought that you might like to have breast implants, please reconsider. No cosmetic procedure is worth the risk of your health. If you have breast implants, please listen to your body and seek proper medical attention if you are experiencing any of the above symptoms. Please feel free to personal message me, if you wish to seek more information on this matter. Please feel free to share this information with other females. Know that I am here to support and listen and guide you in the right direction. I do so only in kindness and love and without judgement and because I care about you and your health.

Thank you Love & kindness Alyssa

THANK YOU Alyssa for sharing your story. THANK YOU for being the wonderful human you are and for doing all you can to help other women and THANK YOU for going the extra mile to help protect others.

Read Alyssa's article in HWS magazine on page 14 here:
https://issuu.com/businesslinkmediagroup/docs/hws-01-2020-issuu

Alyssa is the owner and operator of the Ridgeway Massage Therapy Clinic right here in beautiful Ridgeway, Ontario. 

I strongly believe that every woman and girl in their life at some point looks at their body and thinks they are not enough. Whether it be their complexion, their weight, curves, hair colour or anything in between. We all strive for perfection in our own eyes and it hurts to realize that sometimes it isn’t possible. But the most powerful realization is when you finally understand that you are enough and no one can tell you otherwise.

I have been raised by incredibly strong women as well as a close and supportive family. No matter what happened at school or work, I always knew I could come home and be loved. High School was fairly standard in the way that I was never the “popular pretty” type but I enjoyed learning and took pride in my work. I knew from early on that I wanted to be in the Health Sciences field and help the community and people around me but wasn’t sure which direction to take career wise. Completely by accident, I stumbled across the Funeral Directing path, started my High School COOP and moved to big city Toronto to attend College. I loved my goals and I wouldn’t change my job for the world.

I met Jennifer for the first real time when she was assigned to take my work head shots. While there, I immediately felt comfortable and empowered, especially since this is something I had never done before. I mentioned that I had seen her work before and admired her and every person that came through her door for photos, but that I wasn’t sure I could do something like that.

Long story short, her “why wait?” Comment hit home and I booked my session that same day.

Choosing my photo shoot themes was difficult but my two themes, Girl Guides and The 80’s meant a lot to me and I am very glad I choose them!

The Girl guides have always been a huge part of my life, this year I am celebrating 15 years with the organization and I am now a leader for some wonderful young ladies!

My Mom, Grandma and Aunt were all involved as well and with always being interested in a more vintage style, the theme turned out amazingly! The scarf from the photos turned out to be one of the most incredible experiences I’ve had to obtain something like that. When I was a Brownie (7-8 years old) I had a friend whom I attended meetings with. She sadly passed away a few years back but when I moved back to the original church I was a part of as a girl ,to be a leader, we needed to do some spring cleaning.

During the cleaning, I found a time capsule that my friend, among others, had signed and decorated. The box had been worn with age and moisture so upon opening it, I found the scarf. The same scarf that I wore in the photos.

The 80’s in general has always meant a lot to me. The first 80’s song I remember downloading was “Strange Animal” by Gowan, after hearing my Dad play it from our old laptop. From there, 90% of my playlist is 80’s music oriented. We have now made it a family affair to play records on our player, sing to 80’s on 8 and go to various concerts together and just rock out!

In the end, this experience has been incredible. I have always struggled with my weight and it’s been difficult to see myself as beautiful.

Seeing these photos and having as amazing of an experience as I did, it’s really brought my beauty to light for me.

I pride myself on being a loyal, kind hearted person but to see the outside match my internal beauty was eye opening. It took some getting used to to realize that this was me but I am fully embracing it now.

Thank you Jennifer and her team for making me understand my full self and to feel loved in my own skin.

Love,
​ Hannah 

“Why do we feel that you’re pushing us out of your life?” someone said to me the other day. 
 
I sat stunned for a minute and thought about this deeply.  November 2018, I lost everything.  My home, my stability, my love, my self confidence, and my ability to cope with any given issue.  Maybe I’m just afraid everyone will abandon me, so I try to act blasé faire and unwavering in my thoughts and feelings?  Maybe I’m starting to choose people who make me feel safe and when I feel unsafe I go into defense mode?  Maybe, just maybe, I’m taking my power back?
 
This is just one of the psychological effects of Betrayal Trauma.  The term “betrayal trauma” refers to the damage that is caused when you experience a betrayal in your relationship that damages the trust, safety, and security of the bond you have with a significant person in your life.  While I still question the safety of many, I am also shedding that caregiving personality I had in my previous life.  The life that ended on November 14, 2018. 
 
Why am I wearing a wedding dress in this photo shoot?   Well, at first I was going to do a rendition of Truth Hurts and showing that I’m “100% that bitch.”  But, I’m not.  I’m a wonderful woman with so much love and compassion.  Yes, I have a story is tragic, but no more tragic than anyone else suffering from betrayal trauma.  For myself, a wedding dress is symbolic to family, innocence and new beginnings.   Innocence doesn’t end on your wedding night.  If you trust, love and have faith in yourself and your family, your innocence continues….until it doesn’t.
 
Loss of Stability
 
Whether you’re a family of two or a family of eight, a wedding is the beginning of a new adventure in creating your own family. 
 
Prior to August 2018, I had everything a woman could ever want.  A husband I adored.  Two grown children that I was so proud of.  A successful to me business.  Great friends who I loved dearly.  My life was complete and what was to follow was a fulfilled dream of a new “empty nester” adventure. 
 
I sold my home and moved to Ottawa Ontario for a new adventure because of a new business opportunity.  I closed my business (not hard, just phoned the gov’t), packed the truck and kissed my kids and friends goodbye.  It was a bittersweet moment.
 
From September to November 2018, I had one fantastic weekend filled with happiness and many memories.  The rest of my time in Ottawa, life as I knew it was completely destroyed.  I can’t get into the details. Unfortunately, had someone stole my car, my money, or my life, it would be public knowledge and I could speak freely.  No, someone stole my heart, soul, and erased thirty years of my life and, for that, I’m silenced.  This is part and parcel why society doesn’t understand the mental health component of betrayal trauma.  We’re silenced….I don’t understand why because, to this day, I’d much rather someone steal my car then experience the heart wrenching pain and mental suffering that I experienced. 
 
Loss of Innocence  
 
November 14, 2018 was the day that the old Trina died. In fact, I’ve had numerous sessions with my psychiatrist about the sequence of events leading me to pick up that Leveno tablet that day.  I tumbled down as quickly as the World Trade Towers on September 11th. 
 
It took 3 emergency trips to the hospital, one failed attempt of counselling, having all my belongings in my car and stolen, and the realization that I gave up my whole life for me to decide that it was time to leave Ottawa.  I left with the invitation that they could follow me to work on things, but I had enough of what this city delivered to me.  My parent’s 57 wedding anniversary was the day I left.   I really wanted it to work, in fact I thought it would be the gobsmack that would put humpty dumpty back together again.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t enough and that hurt a lot.  In fact, it tore me apart after giving away thirty years of my life. 
  
So here I was, a 46-year-old woman who was lost in life.  I should have taken stocks in Canadian Club whiskey in 2019 because I did a ton of drinking.  Until I woke up. 
 
I then asked myself a serious question. “Trina, how long has it been that you’ve undervalued your worth?”  Not only to the person who hurt me, but to those who viewed me, used me in the past, and those who I aspired to work for?   By allowing anyone and everyone an open door into my heart and constantly having it slammed it in my face timeless times, I was undervaluing my existence, my greatness and my future.  So many women do this and become paralyzed, insecure and needy.  Not only was I suffering from betrayal trauma, I was suffering far worse than that.  It was then, I started taking my power back.  I was no longer going to ask for what I needed, dreamed of or wanted from this broken relationship.  That had to stop that nonsense.  I was going to demand what I deserved. 
 
New Beginnings
 
It’s been almost a year since I left.  I have transformed my mindset from victim to survivor.  A survivor who wanted to share my experience to help others.  I’ve blogged about my whole experience on my site.  The blood, sweat and tears of betrayal trauma. I wanted to write about it real-time because I couldn’t find the real-time version of it when I was at my worse.  I didn’t want to hear that things would get better in time.  I wanted to know that I wasn’t bat shit crazy.  I am very proud of my transparency and extremely proud of my blog’s effect.    It gives me a great sense of value to help and console others during one of their most life altering experiences.  Now, I don’t know where it’s going to go because of the silence. Quite frankly, I’m OK with that as I will find a new form of expression into my newly created life. 
 
I’m trying to figure out this new dynamic, which is very difficult for me.   I have been assured that there will be bumps in the road, but I have to balance out my old personality, rituals, and routines with the new exciting changes within me.   
 
I have grouped with friends who also have been betrayed.  It gives me perspective on how to heal, grow and define my life.  We ask each other a lot of questions;  feeling questions.  We cry on each other’s shoulders.  We laugh, we share and we do coffee.
 
We have been told to “get over it” numerous times, however, we know that it’s not as cut and dry as it may seem.  Hell, a few years ago I was one of those, and here I am now, crying and apologizing to my friend because I didn’t understand the severe mental and physical effects of betrayal trauma. 
 
I am finally at my point of healing where I’m taking my power back.  No one will control my future and my thoughts. 
 
Something in Red
 
I decided that I was being bullied by so many people while I was healing to settle on my future.   I was told that it was expected of me to find a job that didn’t inspire or make me feel, at the very least, human.  I was expected to take what I could get and shut up.  I met this amazing employment counselor that helped me with retaining a little of myself and dispute that expectation. 
 
What many don’t understand is this.  I’m not the norm.  I never conform.  I’m alone on this new life journey where I’ve decided that I want to be as artistic and creative as I can possibly be.  I want to help people.  I want to laugh and be just as free and carefree as I was in my past life.   I’m a half assed writer.  I like photography.  I’m a dreamer, who has to recreate a new beginning for myself. 
 
I realized over this past year that my family was my dream, until my views of family and innocence was murdered and destroyed.   So what did I do?  I called the shots in my life.
 
I’m also thankful for this betrayal.  Yes, I can finally say that because I would have never found my voice, my power, and my magnificence. 
 
As of January 2020,  I am a full time student studying photography.  I have created goals that focuses on ME!  That’s one thing I haven’t done in over a year and it feels great!  
 
I want to open a marketing firm in the future because I have great business savvy and I communicate well with the younger generation.  I am a leader who has had so much trouble competing for a job because of the younger generation, so why not bring their world into mine?  
 
I get out nightly.  I sit at a local coffee shop and people watch.  I spend time with friends.  I am really digging deep into my heart and figuring out what I want, what I need and what I deserve.   None of this was my fault and I intend on creating an amazing ending to this story of my life.
 
I’m fearless.  I’m getting there. At times I still cry and wonder what could have been.   However, I’m taking my power back so no one can judge or hurt me again.  I am red and I survived it.
 
- Trina

Please head over to Trina's blog and read some of her other fantastic, inspiring and empowering stories!
You can find them here:   lifesablog.ca

When I first set foot on this journey of transitioning into my actual, true gender (that being (mostly) binarily male), the hate and contempt I held for my body grew and grew. Trying to pass as the person I saw and felt within myself was very frustrating as a newly out transgender person. The aching despair at being perceived as one thing when trying so hard to be seen as I truly am inside before I started my hormone replacement treatment (or even when I had just started) festered and roiled within me.

For a good two years I was hyper aware of everything wrong about my body and it’s mannerisms - how high my voice was before it dropped with testosterone, how feminine and round my face was, the way my chest looked even when I would bind it tight with sports bras and the like. I would worry about crossing my legs in public, speaking to people and having them hear the feminine lilt of my voice. The anxiety that consumed me in public continued in private, my breasts and hips taunting me, my body merely existing only adding to my mounting anger and disgust for it in my gut.

But suddenly it was a year and a bit on hormones and my pronouns were automatically "he/him" to perfect strangers, my breasts small enough to hide under a shirt (or two) without the constraint of fabric tying them down. My voice and new facial hair helped in making my body a home, soothing my social dysphoria as others embraced me as a man. 

Even further into my journey of self love and acceptance now, all of this turmoil and self loathing smoothed out and quieted in my head. For the first time since I stepped out as my true self I could hear above the din of that chaos and I could see through the shroud of my dysphoria. 

Through the beautiful communities and friends within that swath of folks like me that lie outside the gender binary - I found myself coming to a few realizations, all very important. One, that my self hate and admonishments were all done in order to fit into a binary I never wanted to. I felt shoved into this so that the public and other trans folks would deem me to be "truly trans"; a pitfall many young and fresh faced trans individuals fall into in the beginning of their transitions. 

Secondly, that I don't hate every part of my body and that that fact does not negate my transness. Many people believe that to be transgender you must hate every part of your body, to wholly hate yourself for not fitting the cookie cutter definition of the two roles society gives us: man or woman. What this idea conveniently leaves out is that there are and have been countless trans individuals that exist beyond that binary and do not necessarily despise their bodies but instead experience dysphoria in many other ways. That simply existing as transgender we will never be deemed cisgender (a term for a non-transgender person) by society.

The idea that I had to perfectly mirror society's view of what a cisgender man physically and mentally should be wrought more pain and needless suffering on me then my dysphoria ever did. That same idea has forced babies born outside of the norm as intersex to have surgeries foisted upon them, sometimes even without the parents full knowledge, to conform to this rigid binary. 

As I delved deeper into myself, discovering and exploring my sexuality in further detail, I came to the realization that that rigid view of what a man is is a cage I do not subscribe to. I wear these ropes in my photos with Lady Luck Photography as an ode to my body and rebellion to the sexual and gender norms of our world; as an acknowledgement that even if these breasts have me appear visibly trans rather than as cis - it does not bother me. Neither does having my bottom parts; as when delving into the waters of my sexuality I came to realize that the norms of a strictly monogamous and heterosexual society where a straight cisgender man will be with an equally as straight cisgender woman do not apply to me. That I am not a pariah in the pool of dating and intimate relationship because of my body, a body I once thought of as defective or unworthy of love. That there are many individuals in the realm sexuality I am interested in - that of kink and BDSM - who fully embrace the diversity that exists in trans and non-normative communities. That I am worthy of the kind of love and devotion I crave. The idea that any sexual and non-vanilla relationship is sinful or disgusting dissipated as I found myself deep down inside.

Overall it comes down to me not being made to conform to the stereotypical mold in mind or body to that of a cisgender man. I exist beyond the binary, as many cultures and peoples around the world have done for centuries before me, and I exist calmly and boldly in that space. These colours, those of the transgender pride flag, are strewn up and down my body as a war paint against those toxic ideals that trample me and other gender nonconforming people, especially those not born with the privilege of a paler skin tone.
​
As a dear friend of mine, Ivy (@cisturbed on Instagram), put it simply - "[I'm] beautiful because I'm trans, not despite it."

​- Sam

I’ve read all the blogs on Lady Luck’s website. I would be lying if I said I did not identify with much of what each of these models have already beautifully written. I highly suggest you take a few moments to read them. Each entry is so relevant (along with the end product of such awesome creative talent and so much fun)! You are likely to see a bit of yourself in the beautiful people who have been brave enough to take a good look at themselves and show the parts that either can’t be seen or have previously been too painful to risk exposing. Naming a life-shaping event, displaying a quirk, a talent, an interest that makes us unique or, a part of ourselves that previously was hidden out of misunderstanding, fear or loathing. Physical and emotional, Jennifer and company turn it all into a thing of beauty and celebration. A pivotal experience, a motivational piece.

I was the short, overweight, four-eyed, in-her-imagination kid and teen who never felt they belonged anywhere. Friendships and loyalties, even strong family bonds have been fleeting and fragile all my life, but not for lack of wanting or trying. It turns out it was a lack of understanding. Understanding how the mistakes of my earliest caregivers and mentors set me off looking for something that I wouldn’t ultimately find in someone else.  The understanding of how hurt people can hurt people, and no two people come from the same place or journey the same way at the same time.  The understanding that some people are truly special because they are conscientiously kind to others, even though they have themselves been hurt. This something was much closer and easier to obtain than I could have imagined until recently.

A very special person came into my life under the simplest, non-suspecting circumstances for a period that to me seemed far too short. They helped me with so much awareness of myself and what it means to love unconditionally. I would have never suspected that such people exist who could, without knowing and without really trying, heal such a variety of emotional wounds, from many people and situations that I had allowed to shape me and my self-concept so dishearteningly. For years I had wondered if I was ready to or had in fact, accomplished forgiveness of certain people for hurting me. I was already aware that I wanted healing but until I met this special person, the process felt incomplete and the sadness or anger would return in degrees and certain relationships never seemed to improve.

A perfect stranger turned into a friend and loved into me an awareness that I was beautiful inside and out. I was in awe that this perfect love I had chased and struggled with and never received was now mine. I began to forgive and reframe many old hurts from a place of unconditional love, like the one that was now being given to me. I began to take care of myself and feel truly beautiful, smart and appreciated. I trusted so implicitly and thought so highly of this person, who cared so beautifully for me, how could I not think highly of the person they thought highly of...myself? Part of my journey was learning about co-dependency and uncovering its roots in my story and changing toxic scenarios and relationships not just for my sake, from a space of unconditional love and a recognition that hurt people hurt people. I played a role that I hadn’t realized I was cast in and accepted only to become the most convincing actress; a willing participant of manipulative conditioning. One that I will never stop trying to defeat for the sake of mine and my children’s health and happiness.

As had been my guess based on the powerful feelings and changes taking place from this special person’s active presence and love in my life, our physical connection was only temporary. It has been difficult, as a truth seeker, to not have such a loving and illuminating presence with me. I cherish the memories and more so the knowledge that the relationship instilled in me. The wonderful thing is that love, and the things done in love, never really go away. There are times when I want to let myself slip…back to old ways of not being loving to myself…days when I struggle to respect the lesson that I do not need to give care to or save people from their own choices or equate having certain people in my life as a sign that I am valuable. Robbing someone of an opportunity to learn a genuine lesson…to prevent them from a journey, possibly like my own, goes against everything I’ve been through and stand for.
This experience has inspired me to dig deep and think about who I’ve been, who I am and who I will be. It is an opportunity for me to see myself both through my own eyes and the eyes of the one(s) who love me. It has shown me that it is not the opinion of others that makes my beauty, talents, strengths and gifts true…they just are.

The fact that I don’t celebrate them nearly often enough does not erase them. Having just turned 40 I feel that it is time to put focus onto my inner and outer beauty, in individuality, and celebrating the strength and courage that it takes to keep moving through a tough journey. I keep going and try to reflect this hope that so much beauty lies ahead and there are amazing people in the world who love despite weaknesses, flaws and hurts. I had the experience of one. I am one.

By caring for myself I am honouring the special person who helped me realize my beauty and unlimited potential, who asked nothing in return and never hesitated to forgive when I acted out of old beliefs instead of new and better knowing. This creative and collaborative process is a record of how far I have come, which will help me journey forward, not backward, just because I had previously been unable to see and feel my worth. Every time I see these pictures I will know the truth.


I am Brenda. My name means flaming sword. I am a healer. I am a recovering co-dependent. I am a diabetic and depressed individual who has been through a lot of emotional trauma in my life. My past doesn’t define me. I now define myself with truth and kindness. I actively choose to break cycles that hurt me and others. I am a sister, daughter, aunt, cousin, wife and most importantly mother of 3 amazing children. I am a special needs teacher and therapist to my son and an autism and special needs advocate. I am a Registered Nurse. I have welcomed life into the world, prevented sickness, healed the sick, helped save lives and been there to support those going home. I have made a difference in the lives of many patients and individuals.

I am highly principled and highly spirited. I have beautiful eyes and lips and a beautiful mind. I seek truth and justice in all I do. I love to sing with all my heart. I am intelligent, warm, compassionate and sensual. I have intuition and empathy in spades which I desire to help seekers and travelers by. I have dreams that I am still fulfilling. I enjoy reading, writing, history and learning languages. I long to travel within and without. I never want to stop learning. I am capable and strong. I lead when called to do so, without fear. I love people, all kinds of people.

I have many lovable and desirable qualities. I no longer need to focus on proofs of being unloved. No part of me is unlovable.  I inherently believe there were and are and will be more moments that I am given love and respect than I allow myself to see. I am love…loving and lovable…and I am grateful.

- Brenda

​

I had originally wrote a much different story for this blog, but a friend told me that it focused too much on 'him' and not enough about me. The truth is, I came to Lady Luck to feel something I hadn't felt in years: Beautiful. Pretty. Exceptional. Sexy.

It has been so long since I did something for me, to make me feel good. I couldn't say no for even one more day, it had to be done. Call me selfish if you want to, but I damned well deserve this. EVERYONE deserves a chance to feel this amazing!

I came to the studio newly single...feeling defeated, broken, and worthless. By the end of the shoot I was literally walking around the studio in nothing but a thong and a smile because Jen made me feel that comfortable in my own skin. I felt like I owned myself for the first time in a long time, and wow! what a feeling that is!

I have a new lease on life, honestly. I came in feeling like I was shattered into a million pieces, and left knowing that I wasn't broken at all, just a little bent. - Amie

I grew up in a weird household in that my mother believed in equality, but was very image driven. She is the kind of woman who never goes out of the house without makeup on and, even though they are not good for her, has heels on to go to work.

​These things are fine if that is what someone is into, but for a young girl growing up as a tomboy it left me very confused about who I should be and what I should present to the world. It also left me worried about exactly that, the world's view of me and my place in the greater whole. I was also, at the same time, dealing with media telling me exactly that, who and what I should be, but it didn't fit for me. I felt like I didn't belong and that started a war inside my head. I was athletic and liked to put way less fuss into my clothes and hair as other girls seemed to think necessary; makeup wasn't at all something that I bothered with. I was also the girl who played hockey and had to defend that I was a girl, time and again. I wasn't right as a "girl", but I also hated being one of the boys. I struggled for ages trying to simply fit in and find my place, instead of trying to find myself.


Eating disorders are also something that happen in my family. We had to clean our plates or we weren't leaving the table, but rarely did we have a say in portion size. I learned to love food and was active, but size comparisons happen and there was always comments about how bodies weren't right. One thing that sticks out to me is that I knew what thunder thighs were before I was ever introduced to the concept of loving myself and being happy with who I was as a person. This was the age of super models and stunners on the movie screen. No one was overweight in the media, to be so was disgusting and you didn't care about yourself. Even the extras were a size six at most, or at least it seemed to my young mind. I had a picture of myself in a bathing suit in grade five that made me cry because I truly thought, at that young age, that I was ugly and no one would ever love me. I ate to comfort myself. I ate because I was bored. At the end of school when my athletics went away, I kept eating the same way because I was truly unhappy.


At fifteen someone finally found me attractive at a period in my life where I didn't think that anyone ever would. I had actually written off ever having a relationship or the genuine love and affection for me that I craved so badly. I though that I had built a good shell but the truth of the matter is that all it took was some interest from anyone in an attraction type of way and the shell shattered. I let people into my life that I shouldn't have because I wanted to fill the void that love should fill. I missed the key rule that no one ever taught me, I have to love me before I can love someone else. I have to see worth in myself. Because I didn't have that love for myself, I opened myself up to abuse that I can't even stomach to think about now. My first sexual encounter was forced on me and I never thought to tell anyone until years later because I equated that vile act with love. It was a history of self-loathing and abuse that I allowed to happen because I didn't even know me at that point. I was living in someone else's idea of what my life should be.


It took me finally getting divorced in my late 20's, finding myself on my own with a child, to stop and try to figure out who I was and what I wanted out of life. I was at this point overweight, in the midst of one of the darkest and longest depression stints that I have ever been through. I wanted to throw up every time that I looked in the mirror. I was hideous and no one would ever care about me the way that I needed. The only thing that kept me getting out of bed every morning was this wonderful little boy who loved me completely and needed a mom to be around for a good long while. Stuck in the midst of all this darkness, I had to made the choice to make changes in my life. Nothing like hitting rock bottom to make needed changes. I changed the way that I saw myself first. If that redheaded angel could love me with my curves, then I could love them too. I stopped being disgusted when I looked in the mirror. I saw things that I wanted to change. I still do. However, I am kinder to myself about it now. Instead of just going "Ugh, you're disgusting", I remind myself to look up ways to work on that area to improve it. I also make sure to tell myself that I am worthy, even if there are things that I want to change. I also stopped living in someone else's idea of me. It is painful to look back and see just how much of myself I lost over the years, but I remind myself that my life isn't over yet and I can go forward everyday, putting me forward.

I am a big buxom girl, with a big mouth to match, but I own that because that is who I am. I love that about me. So, I am not going to change that for anyone. I have bad days where the old habits come back to haunt me. I stand in front of the mirror and jiggle my belly and lament that I am not the model on the cover of a magazine. I go to silence myself when I should speak up. We all fall short of our ideals. The key for me is that I acknowledge that and then put it aside to be the best me I can be. Self-love has saved my life and shown me that it is ok to be exactly who I am. When you see my pictures you will see that I have curves for days or that my belly isn't flat. I see a life time of struggle and perseverance, the marks of that and a strong survivor who is not about to give up now. I see a person who I am glad to say is me. I love me from head to toe.
- Shauna