My Happiness Probably Doesn’t Look The Same as Yours.

 At about 6:30am yesterday, I was standing on a TV set for the second day in a row, dressed as a chef (irony: I can barely boil an egg…I can balance the eff out of your cheque book though!) and while I waited quietly between takes for a lighting set up, one of the female crew walked up to me and whispered, ” I read your blog last night…it was like you were taking to me…or like I was talking to myself…”

I had never met this wonderful lady before working with her on this TV show for two days. And she found my blog on the interweb!  Magical.

I have been writing on this blog for over 10 years. 10 Years…god…GOD DAMN…I am getting old…ER… OLDER!!

(SIDEBAR: The camera operator on the A camera yesterday…was 27 years old. He and I were kabitzing between takes and when he told me his age… I just about plotzed. 27. Such a kind, capable and respectful young gentleman he was…and then one of the other crew said, “If you are 46, he could totally be your son…” And as that whole life story ran through my head…well, I became winded and had to have some grapes. They then kept telling me how young I looked…sweet…but STILL!! )

ANYHOW! Though I have had some fairly popular posts on here (Some Rob Ford based ones…lord!..thank god THAT is over) the one just before this one titled, “George, Take My Picture in This Bathing Suit…” has been one of the most read, shared and talked about. I have received instant messages from Scotland, direct messages from London and New York and comments from all across Canada. It has been…amazing, really.

It has been read and passed around by over 4000 people. Which might not seem like a lot when Kim Kardashian has, like, a bajillion followers…but it is sure a lot of people to this gal.

The comments have elated, humbled and gutted me in equal measure… because the responses have been as varied as the people who populate this earth…

“You have given me the inspiration to buy a bathing suit for the first time in 30 years…”

“It made me cry and I am not sure why…maybe just the idea that we can be harder on ourselves that we realize…”

“The judgement we get from other people can be so painful…”

“We have more in common than you think…”

“To hell with it Sharron, I am just gonna wear my new suit and strut the beaches of PEI…”

“I am not a gal, but a guy of a bigger size, I often hate myself…UNTIL NOW! I know I need to accept who I am”

“Share this with your kids. Everyone is beautiful.”

“I refuse to be photographed under any circumstances…”

“Just finished reading and tears are pour down my face…”

“Captures the exhaustion of living with the burden and pressure of societal image expectations so well.”

“I really needed to read this today.”

“May we all find peace in our shells.”

“I wish I could feel that way about myself.”

I believe we can…we truly CAN feel this way about ourselves.

And one of the things I hope most people get from all of this is that being okay with ourselves is a choice. A daily choice. One that can be oh so hard to start…and easier, much easier path to continue on some days then others.

Now, before I pontificate anymore, people, I don’t fancy myself a guru or anything…I am just a gal who wants to enjoy her life…and her body.

I have been sent many notes and messages that simply say, “Thank You.”

And I would like to pass that THANK YOU back onto all of you who read or commented on this blog. Because, I am gonna be frank with you, I put all of this energy and these words  into my own “Needed for A Shitty Day” reserve …because there is strength and acceptance in numbers.

And there is always a shitty day.

You guys, I did NOT include the negative stuff that was sent to me AND others who shared this post…and there wasn’t not as much as I thought there might be…but it was still there.

My GOAL is to continuously to do my level best to not let people tell me how to be…how to look at my form…how to live…and it is a daily battle…because these people are out there in numbers as well…and they have the whole billion dollar weight loss industry, magazine industry, cult of celebrity, fashion industry (Size Zero…are you fucking kidding me…) and hollywood glamour machine behind them…so I must be vigilant…and to these people and ideals I add a phrase that I put as a post script on the earlier blog…I made it the title of this blog…because I HAVE NOT been able to get it out of my head since I wrote it.

My Happiness Probably Does Not Look the Same As Yours.

 

Canada Sings Screengrab with hair

( Why that hair gotta be on my face….)

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  1. Hey Sharron – just wanted to say thanks. For the last post, for this one, and for the words you gave me when I cried on television. It’s an interesting perspective, knowing where you were at then, as you seemed so at ease with it then that it made me more so. Even though I’m smaller than I was (better for hauling myself up mountains), it’s still a message I pull from. So thanks!

    • Sharron Matthews August 14, 2015 at 4:27 pm · · Reply

      Al the best, Erin!! So awesome! I was beginning my path towards self acceptance…and you were a part of it, sister!

  2. Sharron's Husband August 14, 2015 at 5:05 pm · · Reply

    So much Yiddish!

    Also, you’re awesome. My happiness looks like you.

  3. Diane Brokenshire August 15, 2015 at 2:01 am · · Reply

    Sharron…..you are the BOMB! Love ya girl, keep those thoughts coming.

  4. Darling Sharon, read your blog/post. I was 33 when where I was working in between a breakdown and a revelation – I need to make that happen again – a young man – another staff member btw – came up and asked me if I was the mother of so. I was a bit surprised but thought of course I’m in my thirties, one of the munchkins running around could be an offspring. I answered no and then was watching this young dude beat a hasty retreat when something just, I’m not sure what, but something made me ask ‘ hey, how old is this boy you’re looking for?; ‘ To which he replied, and please keep in mind that I was 33, HE IS 18!!!! I sigh deeply even as I say this a number of years later. BTW you are a beautiful chick, And I love the all encompassing, sassy, funny, ask-kicking package you come in and in which you take no prisoners…xoxo

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