Letter to My 13 Year Old Self

Letter to my 13 year old self-

 

Dear Child, calm down.  You are going to be OK.  I am sorry for your times till now, but it will be Ok in the end.

 

Dear child, stop fighting.  You are not in a war with the world.  You are not needing to be in a war with yourself, it is going to get better. Stop hating everyone for what you went through, it wasn’t the world, and the whole world isn’t’ against you.  If you could see the ones waiting to help and love you, you wouldn’t be so focused on those who don’t. Especially your mother.

 

Dear child, your body is perfect.  It doesn’t need to cause you shame.  Silly little twit, you are smooth, thin, and gorgeous in your youth.  Please stop hating it.  It was a gift from God.  What a waste to hate yourself for your looks.  This is not going to change, and is not helpful to anyone.  The girls that called you ugly are only insecure themselves. You are worthy of eating, you are worthy of wearing a bathing suit, you are worthy of having three meals a day.  Your vision of perfection is not realistic.  It is hurtful to your mind.  Those women don’t exist, and you are perfect the way you are. Even if you were a hideous ogre, you are still owrthy of love and will find it.

The reality of your beauty will come, long after it has begun to fade.  When the stretch marks of your children become marks of pride.  When your forehead begins to wrinkle with the questioning faces you have made in learning new things.  With the smile lines around your eyes that were created….from smiling.

 

Dear child, stop hating men and marriage.  You do not have a good model of what a happy family is.  This does not mean you can’t learn a template all your own for a family. You have not seen happy, but you will create it later.  You hate men because they have not treated you well to this point.  You have been taken advantage of, and this wasn’t your fault.  You have put yourself in scary situations because you don’t feel worthy of happiness or love.  This is shit, so stop it.  Stop hurting yourself through men, and in turn hurting them back.

 

Please stop believing you are destined for nothing.  Nik was smarter than you, but did not come out with more knowledge.  Aaron is cuter than you, but did not come out with a better looking spouse.  The way you compare yourselves to them is so pointless in the end.  Their opinions of you do not make your reality, so stop it.  Just stop. You will learn your brothers are just people.  They have their good and their bad, and they are to be respected for things, and despised for things….but mostly respected.  They came from the same mould, just not the same Jello. You are destined for such amazing things girl.  If you would just follow your dreams, from the beginning.  Child, you will live them, just have a bit of self worth to do so.  You are worthy of happiness.

 

Dear child stop hurting others in a bid to make you feel better.  The thing’s you regret are not that you didn’t fight harder, but that you hurt others.  Stop with the loud mouth, big shot, fight the world attitude.  You will regret those moments, and any pain you caused to others.  When you look back, you will see the missed opportunities to help others, the love you could have offered, and the hurt you caused instead.  You are just fighting against your own insecurities.  Child, please stop fighting.  You don’t see the pain you are carrying.  You don’t even see the hurt you carry, you just have flipped it to hatred, and it does nothing but hurt others.

Dear child, there is a God.  He’s the one who changes it around for you in the end.  I pray you knew him sooner, but it all comes in the right time.  You are so afraid of death, and that all is a waste of time.  You aren’t dead for at LEAST 19 years, so chill out about that.  Your obsession, is mostly linked to your feeling of not being worthy of life.  You are.

Child, you are sad for your children.  You say “ I feel sorry for whatever poor soul decides to be my kid” and this is wrong.  You will have children that even if you may not be worthy of them, you will love their faces off.  You will be a good mother.  Not the best, but you will realise there is no “Perfect” mom, and that’s OK.  You will see that as a mother, you can love them, and do the right thing for them; even when the odds are stacked against you. You will find a consistency in you, you never knew existed.  You will learn to apologise, and you will learn to put your selfish self….second.  Have fun with your self centred ways now sweetie, because they fly right out the door in time!

Child forgive them… ALL OF THEM.  Forgive those that make bad choices, and hurt you.  Forgive every human that crosses your path, because if you don’t, the resentment just hangs on you like mud. If you can know that other people are just living their experiences, maybe you can see the good in those people.  Maybe, you could see that you are just living your experiences, and not be so hurt as well.  You don’t need to hate yourself for your choices, just forgive YOU, and learn, and move on. Please child forgive yourself.

Dear child, your life gets better.  I don’t want to tell you how much better, as you may not do anything, and just hang out and wait for 26.  You need to go through your struggles, and you need to learn.  Just be patient.

You are good.  You are kind. You are strong. You are beautiful.  You are worthy.

My 7 year old can't get married

Right...

Look at your prep kid, and tell them they can't get married.

Haven can sit in the front seat now.  He's 7.  I was like 5 when I could sit in the front, Your mom was your seat belt with her arm out. I remember as I have siblings and that was a death match, cage fight, gauging each others eyes out to sit in the front.  He's cool, as he's got 4 years on his sister.  Haven can sit in the front.  Actually I love it.  I can look at him.  I can see my kid as I drive!  When we are alone and driving together we have the best time.  My best times, are when we put on loud music, I drive and dance, Haven mocks me looking like a mentally challenged rhino. Whatever Haven, I was SO cool.... emphasis on WAS.

Today was hard.

Macklemore has this song."Same Love."  It's about being gay.  And Haven loves it.  I am pretty sure the reason was completely sub-conscious as, until our drive  he really didn't get what it ment.  He has a stupid 7 year old playlist that when we are alone in the car he requests in order. 
1. "Party Rockers" Red Foo"
2. "Red Hands" I don't remember who
3. "Same Love." Macklemore,

We got to number three, and we drove as usual.  Today was to the pet shop.

" You always grab my hand when we listen to this song!  You grab my hand at the exact same part!!!"  Haven said.  He was annoyed. 
I do.  Every time she says " I can't change, even if I tried."  I grab his hand when he's in the front seat.  I grab his hand because of every bigoted, horrible, ignorant rant I have ever heard about homosexual and transgender people.  I grab his hand because my kid can't change who he is and always has been.  Even if he tried, even if he wanted to.
"Why do you do that?"

I pulled into the pet shop parking lot, song still in the background.
"Do you know what this song is about?" I asked
"No."  He said, with very curious eyes.
For the first time in my life, I had to look at my 7 year old and tell him. "You can't get married."
My eyes filled with tears and my heart sunk to my stomach.  What the fuck did I just say to him.  Haven looked blankly at me.  His head cocked to the side, and then his eyes closed.  " This song is about the fact that, because you were born who you are, people like you can't get married." 

I had never said it out loud.

Haven did as all men do.  He sucked it in.  He turned his head, and closed his eyes, and a tear came from under his closed lids. 

What the fuck did I just have to say to my child?

Then the irony.  The horrible irony came from his mouth "But I will marry a Christian!"

My faith.  My unwavering faith that Jesus died for our sins, making me a Christian, yet the very people oppressing his rights as a human.  "But I will marry a Christian." 

I can't go to the place that having a baby born to you, with a difference that is so out of the box it causes pure harit has.  Look at whatever kid you see around you.  If they just happen to be different to you, you want to take their human rights away?  I can't do that.  I raised a baby, to a child with kindness, compassion, empathy, caring, understanding, humour, good will, and grace.  That child has friend from 1-100.  He has friends that don't speak the same language.  He has care for his family and sibling as any mother could only dream.  I have the perfect child, who was born different, and even though he would be a better ambassador for the world than anyone for the job, we judge him.

We were on a flight and flying in business class.  At some point Haven leaned over and asked "Why are so many people giving me mean looks?"  I told him most kids don't fly in the front, they are just upset." 
Haven's answer was "Does it cost more to sit up here?  If people want to sit here, I will go back there no problem!" 
That's Haven.

"You can't get married."

There are scientific proofs of what a child needs to be a productive member of society, a good parent, a contributing member, and we did that.  We have a good role model of parenting success on paper.  We have a parent role model, a happy home.  We also have taught a faith and a way to live, and a way to treat others.  My child picks up trash, doesn't discriminate, he has more friends of nationalities other than his own, he actually doesn't know one of his own descent! 
My child.....  Knew a girl was being bullied at school, and made an agreement with is friends.  If his friends has a kid to play with, and this little girl doesn't, then he will go play with her.  THAT is my child.

Kim Kardashian, and all those stupid holly wood bitches can get married for 5 hours, and it not be an issue, but my child, who will love an honour a wife until death.  Will make the commitment as his parents have to cherish and honour his partner; raise his kids to be great people.. He can't get married, but everyone else can?

I never said it out loud.

I believe church and state need to be separate.  Period.  I didn't get "Transgender" until I had to live it, and now my empathy and sympathy for others only unfolded by a million.  People don't "Get" things they don't live", only cementing my stand as an empiricist.

You don't "Get" homosexuality? That's cool, you probably can say you aren't gay.  You don't get "transgender?"  I get that, as only 90 kids out of 21 million are transgender.  Cool,  The reality is your ability to "Get" things are probably only what you have experienced, and that not being one is understandable. It doesn't make it less real, and it doesn't make your ignorance OK. 

We are just who we are.  I have learned that and many other lessons from a kid unlike other kids. 
The day you have to tell your child they can't do something because of the way they were born, I just ask for a moment of thought.  "You can't be you."  Other's don't accept ir. 

There are some stupid fucking Facebook groups about "Stop discrimination against tattooed people."  Are you fucking KIDDING me?  This is a choice!  You weren't born with neck tattoos!  I got a job first princesses, and if you didn't that's a bad judgement call.  STFU!

My child can't get married.  Even though he will support his children, love his wife, and honour his vows.  I have never had to to say that, and now I did, and now I finally feel what it feels to hate the world. 

My child will honour his wife, raise his kids to have respect, and be a contributing member of society.  He will fallow Jesus, and care for others, and because of the way he was born he can't do what his parents role modelled to do.  How the fuck is that right?

I held his hand and cried as I told him he can't get married. 

The Lake

Lighting sparklers for Christmas with my kids in the courtyard.  The smell immediately takes me to the Lake.  My grandparent's summer cottage, that we spent our entire childhoods visiting.
The sparklers, the snakes on the wooden steps, the bigger fireworks for the bigger kids.
Dusk, the mosquitos attacking, Grandma's Skin So Soft which never worked, but we applied liberally anyways. Grandpa in his black leather chair with a small glass bowl of peanuts. Readers Digest, Polenta, and sausages, the lunch bell.
Lying on the single bed with my feet on the wood, playing the drums on the wood leading up the stair case.  The velvet blanket on my bed, the squeaky springs.
Grandma's sewing machine, with the drawers of buttons, fishing on the dock. Getting a splinter and grandpa taking you to the office, putting on his head lamp magnifier. Thinking having said splinter removed is torture.  Happy to be spending alone time with grandpa none the less.
The smell in the building, the old baby things.  Sawdust, the smell of sawdust.
Playing on the potters wheel, wishing it would spin faster.
The sailboat, and the funny bugs that would sun themselves on it.  Those moth things that stuck to everything. Wooden ducks. Spotting Loons.
Grandmas oatmeal with half and half and brown sugar. Green beans from the vegetable garden, grandpas Jeep.  (I wanted that Jeep! May have fuelled my now obsession with them.)
The sound the water makes when it hits the bottom of the canoe, the water that splashed on you from the ores, feeling terrible when you get too tired and Grandpa had to row you all the way home.
The sound the car made going down the driveway, the linoleum in the back hall. Lying on the kitchen floor tracing the squares with my finger.
Always thinking there are bears outside after it got dark.
The hummingbirds, the light catchers, the tiny things that grandma kept.
Vanilla wafers under grandmas pillow when we left.
Her bedroom, and it being off limits to the kids, so when I got to enter, it was almost like a secret cave. Magical and smelled nice. The timers on the bedpost, the doilies, and nice pyjamas.
Big hanging pots of flowers that didn't smell so nice, but looked amazing, the feeling of the sun chairs with the hot soft mesh.
Quiet.

Lego "Friends" is bullshit

I am not hard core feminist.  I like that men and women are different, and think those differences should be embraced, not demolished.
However, lately it seems the toy world is not only dividing my kids by gender, but pummelling it into them, and it's getting ridicules.
I was really excited Lego was coming out with a more "girly" version of Lego.  It was always very much my brothers toy, and I was happy to put some of that engineering creativity to my daughter, whom is highly intelligent.  She however, DOES love pink.  This love was not taught.  I am not overly feminine, and her brother is her idol, so where this love came from is a bit unknown to me. 
I was excited that girls could have those stupid little people with cylinder heads, and could now sit for hours using their brains to create cars, and planes like their male counterparts.... Lego Friends however, is anything but that..... Lego Friends is bullshit.
Where to start?  Yep, it's a bit pink, and that says to my very feminine daughter "Hooray"  So I am good with that, however upon opening the box I was a bit horrified.  There are no cylindrical women, but actual dolls, with disturbing hip to waist ratios.  Even my husband noticed how scary skinny the girls were.  We don't have enough of that?  Really?  If Barbie were an actual woman, she would be 5'9" tall, have a 39" bust, an 18" waist, 33" hips and a size 3 shoe.  Seems practical. 

The second horror for my eyes, is that right in the ad I am looking at now, the only scenes for my daughter to construct are; City Café, City Pool, Pet Salon, Beach Buggy, and Olivia's Newborn Foal....... Well I know as a female, my day isn't complete without a trip to the Pet Salon. 
Haven's Lego is pretty awesome, he has an airplane, a dump truck, multiple cars, and actual homes and buildings to create.  Building "actual things"  Makes a bit of sense.
The third horror is that the city is called "Heartlake City."  Well that's great, because girls couldn't possibly live in cities called "Gotham, Metropolis, or Cleveland."  Silly thought. 
Olivia's Newborn Foal is great.  Why build an actual farm, when the super-skinny Olivia can feed her foal a carrot.  It might be cooler to get Olivia herself a carrot... or better yet a cheeseburger. You do know boys can like horses right?  My super masculine, highly intelligent and successful husband had a horse.  Jumped on a friends horse one day and jumped that bitch over a fence.... Now THAT is manly.  But make sure Joliet doesn't waste her time with building actual barns or housing structures.  Foals are where it's at for a successful career.
I have my own bitchings about the new "boys'" Lego as well.  I mean, the three advertised under the bullshit Lego Friends, completely advertised separately as to not mistake gender roles are; "Battle at the black gate, The Wizard battle, and Pirate ship Ambush."  Not thinking they live at Heartlake City! What happened to just building cool stuff?

9 our of 10 Engineers are male.  That's stupid.  And I am thinking there is a reason. I take great pride in being a wife and mother.  I find it a humans highest calling as a matter of fact.  If my girls chose to not go that route, that's cool.  Let's make sure they have some foundations to become successful in any career they want.  I get Joliet loves princesses, but we don't know Harry or what's his name, and that shit doesn't actually look fun.  I would rather she has a career she can be proud of and that uses a bit more of her brain than feeding a foal, playing at the pool, or sitting on a yacht.  Yes, the Lego Friends Yacht!  Haven will build the Search and Rescue Boats to come save the poor girls, who when they fall over the side of their yacht, their super sized heads, and lack of body fat, or any muscle tone what-so-ever, they will inevitably drown.  So good thing Haven is there to rescue them.

Fatty Mc.Fat

I am Fatty Mc. Fat

So book sales on release date are poo.  I took it completely personally.  I thought my Aussie friends were really supporting me, when in reality they are being supportive in thought. But, but, I would have supported YOU, and bought YOUR book.  I mean, why not think it's cool to even own a crap book written by a friend?
 That's cool, but the book is $20.  In Oz we blow our nose with $20.  No literally, this country is so expensive you could never imagine.  I went back to America and got a bagel and an orange juice at the airport.  She said "That'll be $6.00"  I was all "Did you get the orange juice?"  She goes "You would pay $6.00 for a BAGEL??"  Honey I would pay $6.00 for the orange juice!!!
It's cool, I'm trucking on.
I love food.  That's why I wrote the book.  For a skinny chick, my love affair with food has been an amazing love affair journey, and THAT is why I wrote the book.
I was raised right, and never drank soda, or had candy.  I ate well, had a mother that cooked our meals.  And then the divorce, and her work schedule, and my fathers absence, and my inability to think I am good enough, or pretty or thin.  Then her death and my alcohol addiction.  I went through the motions.  I got heavy as a mammoth, and witnessed first hand what it feels like to be huge.  I know the cycle of hating yourself for eating, then feeling so bad, and eating to make the pain stop.  I got that.
In my new life with food, I don't just feed my mouth, or my stomach, I feed my soul.  HOW CORNEY!  I know, it's so true.
I LOVE food.  I refuse to eat what I don't adore, and this was especially true when I was pregnant.  My husband will never again buy me cake as I would cry if he got the wrong one.  CRY!!!!!!
It's just so different and beautiful now.  I cook what I desire, and feed my family food of love.  Celery and rice cakes to keep up thin?  Hell to the NO!  I feed us amazing, exquisite, violently delicious food.  I savour it, taste it, linger in it.  When I have a 3 year old close her eyes with happiness of taste my heart jumps.  "My mom is the best cooker!" I got tonight.  I am the best cooker :)
I have gotten from a binge eating, eating for self loating, eating to numb myself Fatty Mc. Fat.  To a thin, healthy, cook, who eats better than any chubba out there.  I eat amazing, because I found a healthy relationship with food.  DIETS DON'T WORK.  Diets end.  And being some super skinny size 2 is not a healthy outlook.  "But I was a size 4 in high school."  Bitch you 40, let that goooooo.  Be happy with you now.  Healthy doesn't need to be anorexic, it needs to be fed to content without excess.  That's it.  It looks different on all of us, so don't look at my size, or Miranda Kerr size, or your best friends size to be your size.  Stop it.  JUST STOP IT!!!!!
Eating.
Sometimes I don't eat breakfast because I'm not hungry in the morning.  That's it.  Am I hungry?  Nope?  OK then not gonna eat.  "80% of obese people skip breakfast"  Well I'm not obese.  Are you skipping to "save calories?"  Or are you not hungry?  HUGE difference.
Lunch?  I eat a sandwich, or half a sandwich, or tortilla and cheese, or whatever I want.  But after half the meal I ask if I am really still hungry?
My dinner?  My dinner is shared with my family.  The epicenter of my universe.  I will give them my love in this meal and it is planned with care.
I write weekly menus and shopping lists (In the friggin' book)  So I save money and time enough to do this.
I pick food and recipes that make me salivate.  Entice me to the center.  THAT is what I cook.
I wont eat food that I don't love, and when I do I get teary.  I get angry!  We only have so many meals in our lives, so why not eat food that is amazing?!
I now have learned to cook, because after a few "omg Laura, this is psycho good."  You get a kick from cooking.  You keep trying harder and harder to get your family to give you the thumbs up and empty plate. It's OK to learn to cook for vanity!  Hell, whatever works.
I don't look at food with my kids as other mothers do.  Kids go through growth spurt and have ZERO misconceptions about food.  No matter how good or high calorie, or fatty, they are programmed to eat when they are hungry, and stop when they are full.  Their palates are virgin, and enjoy pure, clean tastes.  YOU have issues with food, they don't.  Some days my kids eat 4 meals a day, they finish their plates and   ask for more.  Most days, they eat 3 bites at dinner, and bring home half their lunch.  This is normal.  This is listening to your body, and only eating when you need.  The Food Pyramid was made my Kellogg.  If you can't digest that sentence, please ponder it until you do.  A corporation profiting in FOOD, can not tell you what to eat.  Anyways it's batshit upside down.  Fuck a food pyramid. Fuck a Three meal a day and 2 snack consisting of 3 veg, 4 fruit, 1 meat diet.  You eat what your body tells it to when it tells it to.  Emotions have no place in food.  Except when you can love it.
When you love every meal you eat, you are never deprived by a smaller portion, because your brain knows the next meal will be just as amazing as the last.  This is the best food you ever had?  That's cool!  Next meal will be just as good, so eating more than you need is unnecessary.
I decided not to be a celebrity chef, or a nutritionist, or a doctor.  I am just a mom, and an ex-fatty, that figured it out with non-bullshit ideas and ways to live.  That's it.
I hope you can get to this place too.  And if you need help?  laurasfoodfight.com, and $20 can help!
Merry Christmas!
Laura

And I run...

And I run-

It's been 2 years now, so it's fully time to jump ship. I will leave again in a month. Do I hate it here? Did I not make friends? Quite the opposite. I love it here. The people in Melbourne I have met again, another family. Friends of such amazing character and love that I humble to be a part of this. These people, Haven's school, the adventures and experiences. But it's time to go again. Again, again, again.

I have never lived in the same spot longer than 2 years in my life. 2 years. Except childhood, and in that I attended 11 schools in 12 years. The new school just as scary as the last, but either good or bad it was an experience to be had and learned from.

Mom died at 18, and it was just fucking make it from then on, never feeling at "home" again for years.  "Home" was where I was and I would just be until I moved to the next place. 

I fallowed people on any adventure "Let's quit our jobs and go to Florida"  Ok.  Let's do that. 3 months later.  Broke and unemployed and thrilled with my adventure, I went back to the temporary home. At some point in the trip I had let go of my fears, and just stood on the beach, with the waves crashing my feet and it was "standing in a hole."  The waves would wash over them and deeper and deeper I would go in the sand.  The serenity found in standing in that hole.  I think I have always been chasing that feeling.  Standing in a hole.

The world is so hectic and if I think of the reality of the world, and the pollution, and animals, and toxic life we leave I literally anxiety myself to delirium.  It's not right. You can't have kids and think " This is gonna work out well for you!"  So I want to DO as much as I can until this time here is up.  

We're leaving again.

I can't tell you how many places I have lived in my life.  Countless homes. Countless addresses.  I said at one point I left Denver because I dated every available man in the state and had to leave to find a boyfriend.  I would say that it was too hot or too cold or too expensive, so I would move again.  Then I met my husband who has the same love of leaving.  

But when I left before I was running.  I was running away from myself and the chaos I created.  I would create drama and a story of amazing proportion.  I would have this insane life that was always so hard.  

This is different.  My life as an adult is much calmer, and not so X rated. My new life is as spontaneous as ever, but more as now I'm not broke.  "Pack up we're leaving for the weekend."  Where are we going?  "South."

The life now is still picking a point on the map and going there to find the adventure that zip code has to offer.  By doing this, I have met people you would never understand.  I have seen things no one has seen.  Been to a glow worm tunnel?  Yea, that was a Thursday.  

My entire life I have felt I was searching for something.  I got off the plane in Australia and felt like this is what I was searching for.  Yet 5 years on, and my 4th address, 3rd state.  

This to me is an adventure, but I wonder what my kids feel about this.  I see it as all a learning experience.  You can't KNOW until you do.  You can't UNDERSTAND until you have lived it, and it scares the shit out of me my kid's don't see it that way.  Maybe they see it as instability? 

Maybe I have instability or feed off of that?  Why do I need to analyze it all?  

I had made friends in Sydney that I would die for.  Amazing family like friendships.  I left.  I have American friendships that I would still give my life for now and forever, but I left.  I have friends in Melbourne that I would surrogate children for, and too love as family.  Now I leave again. 

I can justify.  Our next year is living at the fucking Four Seasons in a house you can't imagine.  I can justify like you wouldn't believe why I leave, but at the same time I wonder why I see living in the same place for 30 years as a death sentence. 30 years in the SAME place?  

I hope my kids can see it my way, or I can find out why I need to leave always to fulfill myself.  This life is amazing.  Crazy and fun, and never dull.  

To the next adventure!  And seriously, come visit this time, as this is the coolest yet!

Book out!

Go to laurasfoodfight.com to buy my book in Australia!!