When I first thought of blogging I thought of food and nutrition, but mostly I thought of the importance of fat. I wanted everyone to know how life changing eating a high fat diet was. I was on a war path. Everyone needed grass fed butter and they needed it stat!

I am somewhat happy that I did not start blogging in those early days. I started some posts and I have some ideas written out, but reading it all now its so dense with info. That old writing doesn’t carry the chill, easy going vibe I feel in my life today and I really value that feeling. Maybe I value it so much because I have been in a place of constant anxiety, constant pressure from all sides that kept me looking around for the next thing coming whether it be good or bad, a place where there is no possible way to relax. And maybe that is what my old writings reflect, that constant anxiety and hyper vigilance, the feeling that something needs to get done, the feeling that we all need to be preemptive and on top of everything.

Now a days it is nice to just lay back and allow things to occur around me, getting involved if I want to, choosing my interests and leaving the rest. To just chillax.

I also have a slightly different perspective on life now vs then. While I was all about the fat and nutrition then, when I actually look back, the thing I value the most in those times was the support I received. The support I was given, as it was a gift, and later the community I found, have been life changing for me and that knowledge has recently been solidified in my mind.

Early on my support network was small. Primarily because of my inability to leave my house due to panic attacks and being suicidally depressed I relied heavily on my husband, then boyfriend. I will be forever grateful to him for what he gave me, but I know that what I asked was unfair. Those were tough times for us. He told me afterwards, when things were better and we were able to openly and frankly discuss our feelings, that there was a long period of time, months in fact, where he hated coming home to the mess of a house and a life I had created for us, where he hated me. And honestly I can not blame him, if the roles had been reversed I cannot promise I would have stayed. When I asked him why he stayed he told me he knew that things had been good and he knew they could be good again. That’s what kept him pushing though, that and the knowledge that if he left I would likely attempt suicide. His strength genuinely saved my life and gave me enough stability to work towards a healthier version of me.

I understand that not everyone will have a person like my husband in their lives and while I hope for that for everyone, there are other means of support I looked for in those tough days. I knew he couldn’t be solely responsible for my wellbeing so I sought out professional help also. I fully believe that in order to improve and move forward we need outside views and thoughts. The thoughts we think can only get us so far and if we are not well those thoughts obviously are not serving us. My counselor was very much more informed than I on a great deal of things and helped me see my world in a new light. She gave me topics to research and books to read and I diligently gathered the information and applied it to my life and feelings. She was informed, compassionate and applied just the right amount of push. I spent about 2 years with her and while the work was hard and painful, I still look back on many of our talks fondly. I remember the times I had a break through, the times she thought I would need to see someone else and look into medication just as I would break down another wall in my mind with her help. I remember the first time I felt happy in my life. I remember telling her about it. I remember her telling me often that when she looked at me, a beautiful successful business woman running a retail outlet before the age of 30, she could not understand how I could think so many negative thoughts about myself. I remember tears coming to her eyes as she expressed these thoughts to me with so much compassion. I paid for her time, but she was an extremely valued friend to me then.

The best thing I did with all the support I was given was to use that stability to work on and improve myself. I read, I researched and I experimented. I took control of all the things that had made me unwell and I owned them instead of letting them own me, as difficult as it was. It took a while before my tiny steps showed any recognizable progress in the real world, but it came. And without the efforts I made my husband would have revoked his support, which would have been completely fair, but would have left me in a position with no stability with which to continue my growth. I needed to be mindful of what I did with that gift he gave.

As I grew mentally and emotionally and my body returned to a state of wellness my support needs changed, they grew. I was able to branch out without the constant support of my husband, I searched for community. I needed people who were like me, who could support my continuing growth, who I could support as they grew. I still had my husband of course, and things between us were much better, more tender and intimate, but I do not think that one person can support all the needs of another, and I do not believe it is fair to ask that. As I was able to stand for bits of time on my own I reached out to find other people, to give my husband moments where he could take a break from me.

I live in a small town in northern British Columbia and finding a community of people when you tend to be a societal black sheep can be a difficult task in such a place. I have been here 12 years and I would say I have not had a more than 3 friends in all that time until the last 6-8 months. Lately I can feel my community growing, I am networking and meeting people who have similar drives and ambitions as I. I have been committed to building a kink community here and it is happening, and through it I have met people who appreciate the diversity in others, who want to put more love, acceptance and compassion into the world. Together we are building small things, bringing awareness in little steps, opening space for people to have discussions about the things they think about but are not supposed to talk about.

I felt alone when I started shaping myself into who I am and not what people thought I should be, and even more alone when I read about communities for folks like me in cities and bigger centers compared to what was available in my little conservative northern town. I wanted a community so badly, so I put in the time and effort, which resulted in years of trying to make contacts and getting nothing. But I was consistent and it has paid off. My network is growing, supportive and interlinked; we are becoming a community and we are becoming friends. I have created a support network for me to lean on when I take scary steps in life, like coming out as poly. And as it turns out, living openly as poly rather than living in the shadows about it is much better for my emotional and mental well being.

By proxy I am also building a place for other people to find support networks for themselves, people who are queer or trans for example, or women who are looking to repair their health and have control of their bodies, or cis hetero folk who just don’t feel the need to conform to the standards of toxic masculinity or toxic monogamous culture. What if what I have started to build can support others in their growth, what if I could gather all the black sheep in my little town and create a safe, warm space where we can all ourselves? Where we can find the stability to focus on ourselves and grow? I am starting to see all that on the horizon and I am excited to offer others what I was given.