Burpees for Boobies

Let’s take a moment to flashback to the whole burpee for boobies movement – do you guys remember that? Some of you might be learning about it for the first time, and let me tell you this is what started my cancer journey on the right foot. Who knew it was even possible to start a cancer journey on the right foot – I know – but it turns out you can.


The day after my bilateral mastectomy my girlfriend, and partner in crime – Ms. Jenn Brennan – came to me with an idea to put together a Facebook group where people could share their support all in one place. Since we both have a personal training and bootcamp business background, it only made sense to build some kind of fitness challenge around it.


Alas, Burpees for Boobies was created.


Now, truthfully at first I had a hard time with this whole concept. I know that people were trying to donate money to my family and I, and this is something that didn’t feel right to me. I felt like there were so many other people who needed it more, or that I didn’t deserve it, we’d be fine… it just overall all felt kind of icky. BUT, it was just a story I was creating in my own head and with lot’s of discussion I had to just let it happen – because if this situation was happening to anyone in my life I’d tell them to shut up and just let people do what they want to do!


Plus I was on a lot of painkillers… like a lot. So I didn’t have a whole lot of strong ground to stand on. In fact, this whole conversation isn’t something I remember – I was told a couple days later how it all came about when I started explaining it to people. Turns out I didn’t have the story right!


Anyways, where was I? Painkillers…. Oh yes. Thank goodness for painkillers.


I think I’m off topic.




30 Burpees for 30 days. Post the video on the Facebook group. That’s it!


We chose burpees because they happen to be my favourite exercise. Seriously. When I was training to do my Spartan Races (obstacle course race) I had to really focus on burpees. For every obstacle you can’t complete you need to do 30 chest-to-ground burpees, and let me tell you – they add up! I was so terrified going into my first race that I’d be doing hundreds of burpees that I really focused on not dying from them. They got easier, I got better at them and this is when my personal fitness took a massive turn. My body had never been so fit, and I had never been able to do so much.


All because of burpees. So, that was the inspiration and the reason why we chose 30.


PLUS – this surgery meant I could no longer do burpees. I’d be able to do them one day again, after I’ve fully recovered from multiple surgeries over the course of a year or longer… but until then, it’s something I can’t do anymore.


One of the greatest parts of this group was that anyone could be a part of it. You could donate your time, energy, funds, message, support – whatever felt right to you. There was no pressure, just a whole lot of encouragement!


We had no idea what it would turn in to. I couldn’t believe all the people who were participating, posting vulnerable videos, trying burpees for the first time, sticking to it every single day, getting creative with locations, costumes, music and style! It was incredible. In a few days the group grew as big as 1700 people and hundreds of videos were being posted everyday.


I know, because I watched every single one. Literally.


I really wanted to watch every video, and comment on them, because I wanted everyone to know how much it meant to me that they were taking the time to support me in some way.


After my surgery I expected to be binge watching Netflix, movies, etc. But NO! I was binge watching these burpee videos. It made such a difference in my recovery to be in contact with so many people rooting for me. I felt like I was still working in some way, motivating people to get moving, and to do something good for themselves!


I was touched that entire families were getting involved, kids, grandparents, parents… Entire companies were getting involved, soccer teams, dance studios, play groups… My daughters school had a Burpee day where the whole school did them in their gymnasium, and my son’s daycare had their whole class of crazy toddlers and brave teachers do them as well!


GUYS – THERE WAS A BURPEE FLASH MOB! In Newmarket, a ton of people showed up on a particularly dreary day just to do burpees in public. It was incredible. Did you know that being a part of a flash mob was something on my list of things to do in life? Well it was, and now it’s checked off. (Featured image is from that day!)


These burpees were coming from everywhere around me, and it was honestly the most touching experience of my entire life. I am so grateful. It was impossible to be in a bad mood, feel sorry for myself or be super negative when I had all this positivity and support coming at me from so many different angles.


So, this group still lives on Facebook if you want to check it out. I do still, and I hope to one day resurrect it! Perhaps around the time I need to have my next major surgery once chemo and radiation is complete….muah hahahaha…


Consider yourselves warned.


This video tho.

This was a video made by a particularly awesome woman, Maricel. At the beginning of the Burpees for Boobies movement she went ahead and took the time to make a thoughtful video like this!  It was hard for me to watch at first, because it was so early on in my journey and it felt kind of funny having people go so far out of their way for me – but now I’m SO thankful to have it.

For those of you who haven’t seen it, enjoy!

And mom, try not to cry again… hehehe…

Well, that escalated quickly.

Well friends, I got cocky. I’ve been feeling very grateful that so far during my chemo treatments I haven’t had any complications, I haven’t fallen victim to my suppressed immune system and I’ve been able to maintain a decent level of normalcy.


Then I was quickly reminded that things can change fast.


My fifth round of chemo was a combination of drugs that I haven’t had yet. It was always the plan to have four treatments of a certain combo, and then the second four of another combo. My fifth treatment was much longer, 6 hours long, and I also started Herceptin, a drug that combats my HER2 status (what makes it so aggressive) and I’ll be doing that treatment every three weeks for the year.


So it was different.


At first it felt like a better round of side effects – no nausea, my brain felt clear and I had more energy compared to the first four treatments. I did suffer for a few days with some pretty intense bone ache, my hands and feet were numb and tingly, and my appetite completely changed due to a sore throat and lack of taste in food – but overall I was pretty ok with this.


Then out of nowhere, my body exploded in a rash. The rash started harmless enough (I actually thought it might have been an acne breakout on my chest), but then as the day went on I started seeing changes on my legs… then overnight it spread almost everywhere.


So, first thing in the morning I went to the ER, and they told me it was a reaction to my drugs, take Benedryl and move along. I wasn’t going to worry, but I knew that it wasn’t going to be enough.


Later that same day the rash was getting even worse, and then I had a fever. So off to the ER again, and this time I’d be told that I couldn’t go home until it was all figured out.


I’m currently writing this from a hospital bed, four days into my stay, and the rash is still very much a thing. I’ve seen a million doctors and they all had different opinions at first – but now they’re narrowing it down to a drug reaction. This is great news, because they know what drug it likely is and all that needs to be done is a modification at my next chemo treatment.


I’ve been treated for infection (just in case), a virus (just in case), a reaction (just in case), an infectious disease (just in case) and next stop is dermatology since you know, it’s a rash. Once I get that Doctor’s take on what this could be then I should be able to go home. Because, we’re hoping he’ll say it is a drug reaction and I’m good to go. Until then they’re monitoring me, watching my blood levels and waiting for test results from when I was first admitted.


That’s the scoop on what’s happening right now! All I care about is getting it taken care of so I stay on schedule with my treatments. The light at the end of this chemo tunnel is clear and I just want to get there as soon as possible!

Lindsy Vs. Chemo

For those of you who have been following my blog, and this whole journey – you will have noticed that I’ve been pretty MIA lately. I went pretty quiet on social media, haven’t written a blog in over a week and haven’t been my usual busy self.


My latest treatment (number 4) really knocked the wind out of me. I know it’s because the effects are starting to add up, and it’s getting harder for my body to bounce back… but it’s still something that took me by surprise.


Immediately after the treatment I feel something that I can describe best as a certain ‘heaviness’. My body feels heavy, my eyes feel heavy, I can really feel my heartbeat in my chest and I am just generally moving slowly. My eyes were so dry it was hard to keep them open, and the constant dehydration is a battle.


During the first three days after treatment I’m given oral medication to take at home, and once that is done – I go through a new phase of effects. The nausea was constant, the fatigue made normally easy tasks difficult, and I slept a lot.


I also have to take shots every day, for seven days, after each treatment. The shots aren’t a huge deal, and they’re very important because they’re what helps my immune system battle normal everyday things like colds/flus/virus/etc. by increasing my white blood cell count. These shots cause some major body aches (the doctors call it bone ache because it actually makes your bone marrow ache), and that is what I’ve struggled with the most.


I’ve been dealing with some other little things like peeling fingertips, tingling in my hands and feet, food aversions, mouth sores, and a lasting burning sensation in my throat caused by a growing list of food and drinks.


Guys, I still have my eyelashes and eyebrows though – so I feel like a winner! Seriously.


Honestly, I’m sure reading that all feels like a lot. And although it’s been pretty crappy, I know it means the medication is doing what it needs to do – save my life. Am I right?


Yeah, I said that.


Shit just got real friends. Again. Because it’s the truth.


My next treatment is in a few days and the cycle starts all over again, and I’m not looking forward to it, obviously. Especially since they’re giving me four new drugs for the remaining four treatments, and I’ve been warned they’re going to be even less pleasant than the first four.




You have to do what it takes, whatever it takes, and that’s just what I am going to do.


The Chemo Suite

Chemo. What exactly is it like? Well, it is obviously very different for everyone, but for me it has been pretty smooth sailing so far. Besides my minor emotional breakdown last week, of course. Ha.



The Stronach Regional Cancer Centre in Newmarket has been a positive experience. It is organized, there is a ton of support and they seem to be really on their game when it comes to caring for patients. The actual chemotherapy suite is big, bright, not crowded and overall a pretty ok place to receive the world’s most famous medical therapy.



You are seated in a large reclining chair, there is a personal tv if you choose to watch, and lot’s of space to cozy up and do some reading, working or sleeping during treatment. You can snack while they offer coffee/tea/water throughout and basically try to make it as comfortable as possible while you’re hooked up to the IV.



You can bring one person with you to sit in a chair beside you to keep you company, and that’s pretty much it. Super exciting stuff.



Side effects. You can go ahead and picture a commercial where I’m skipping through life, playing with puppies and laughing with friends – and in the background you get to hear all the lovely side effects listed.



And despite what you’re about to read, it really isn’t that bad. I mean, it could be so much worse, and is, for some people.



I feel pretty nauseous for about a week following treatment. The drugs for that help most of the time.


The fatigue can be challenging, and tends to accumulate after each treatment.


I have to give myself shots every day for seven days following each treatment. These shots help you produce more white blood cells to fight viruses and infections. These shots also have the main side effect of body and bone aches. The aches have been pretty hard on me, and they are the worst during the second week.


Then there are mouth sores, tingling fingers and feet, dehydration and ‘chemo brain’, and that pretty much sums it up for me.


Chemo brain. It’s a real thing. I feel like I have trouble speaking correctly, like my brain and my mouth can’t work together. It’s like I’m in a haze, and it feels like I’m kind of floating. I find it harder to write, work and carry on normal conversations – and my memory is seriously suffering. I’ve always had a knack for remembering details, stories and events – and that is definitely not the case right now.



Oh wait, and my hair fell out. That too.



So I guess there are some side effects that aren’t great, and it may seem like a lot once I write it all out. But I guess I’m just trying hard not to focus on the bad stuff… because that’s a slippery slope into feeling sorry for yourself, which is something I’ve never been big on.



I focus on the good – and there is good I promise you! I’m completely committed to being as normal as possible. I’m still taking care of my kids, although they may be watching more TV than usual… I walk them to school, prepare meals, take care of bath time, talk with them, read with them, and even take them for play dates. I still need to take care of the house, and I am still working from home – although I have taken a break from personal training and my bootcamp business.



I am obviously more tired than usual, and the first week after chemo my patience is a little thin – but I’m doing it. Headaches come and go depending on what drugs I’m taking post treatment, but they’re manageable. Everything is temporary.



And yes, I’m still finding time to drink wine – approximately every other weekend, with friends, and it’s a lot of fun. Being able to go out for dinners with friends and enjoy wine and tell stories and be ridiculous is honestly one of the biggest reasons this hasn’t been all that bad. My friends have been there through the good and the bad, the boring and the interesting, and if it wasn’t for them I’d be in a much more negative and depressed place. I know me, and I need to be social (even if I don’t feel like it) and go out and do the things that make me happy in order to get through this in one piece.



Tomorrow is my last round of the first two chemo drugs. Which means that is 4/8 done and halfway there. For the last four rounds I’ll be getting a few different chemo drugs and I’ve been told the effects may get harder. But I’ll just keep managing the best I can, work at staying active and continue to focus on the positive!


I believe the term is “living my best life”

I have always had a particular ‘energy’ for living my life to the fullest, and filling my time with lots of experiences and fun. I am not sure where it came from, or how long I’ve been this way… but it’s something that is obvious to my friends and family, and it comes up often.


It’s also a theme that seems to come up with my therapist regularly (Yup, I go to a therapist and would recommend that every human does), because when we discuss why I do the things I do, it always seems to come back to me wanting to pack as much life into my life as possible.


One day this past summer, I was sitting outside in my backyard with my husband – because I hate being inside in the summer – and we were discussing nothing in particular when I mentioned to him that I had a thought, and it was a thought I didn’t even want to say out loud, because it felt silly, but I was thinking it nonetheless.


“What if this whole live life to the fullest thing I do is because something is going to happen?”


“Like what”, he said.


“Like, what if I feel the need to pack as much fun into my days and weeks, and not miss out and not waste time… because my time is limited?”


Blank stare. Because I’m a psycho.


I continued. “Or, being less dramatic, what if I’m going to get really sick, or whatever, I don’t know, it was just a thought…” and that was it.


I don’t remember what he said, or really how the entire conversation went. But it happened. At some point in the summer. I basically told him that I felt like something not good was coming, for me specifically.



Now, I’ve always been energetic about life, but last summer was next level. Luckily I have a partner in crime who is also a lot like this, and together we had the best summer ever. I had other friends who were on maternity leave or stay home with their kids so there were always lot’s of things to do. Most days  with the kids, we hit the beach, a pool, a splash pad, play park, trampoline park – so many activities. Cottaging, friends places, amusement parks… everything.


When I was able to leave the kids at home I was out with friends, partying, sometimes into the early hours of the night. Girls nights, pool parties, visits to the city, weddings, group dinners… it was the best. And because I’m so busy it made me appreciate the down time even more too. I loved having nights off, staying in, watching a movie, playing with the kids in the back yard or going for a walk, a hike or a park.


So, back to the whole doomsday prophecy thing.


I don’t know why I thought this negative thing. I honestly don’t have many negative thoughts, and I especially am not the type to worry about something that doesn’t exist yet, and even when I could worry – I try really hard not to, because it serves absolutely no purpose. I didn’t want to say it out loud because… well I just didn’t want to hear it, say it or acknowledge it. And I felt dumb.



And hey, if nothing bad actually happened it would have just been some random weird weekday conversation that would have been forgotten.



But, something did happen.



Just as fall was coming into full effect, the cancer happened. The. Cancer. It’s the thing I think people worry about the most, for themselves and those they know. Chemo, surgery, radiation, other medical therapies, lifestyle changes and the whole fighting for your life thing. It’s scary. It’s touched everyone in some way or another… and it is now happening to me.



I’m not saying I predicted this was coming. I am not a psychic. My therapist thinks I knew it was coming on some subconscious level. I had the lump for a long time, so she thinks that maybe I knew it was there and buried it and all that stuff… but I honestly don’t think so. I truly thought the lump wasn’t a lump and that it was just something hormonal, or whatever. I really didn’t think about it, I wasn’t avoiding it, and it wasn’t something I felt needed to be checked out until it started to hurt (refer back to older blogs…).



Anywho. I have only told a select few this story, and now it’s out there. I feel like it should be, because it is simply interesting at the very least.



I was joking with a friend yesterday that I was borderline scared for my life in regards to how this summer was going to go for me. My ‘zest’ for life has always been pretty intense – imagine what it’ll be like after I’m done all my treatments, and feel like myself again! I’ll be living my very best life, filling my time with fun and positive experiences, and my kids/family and friends/clients will be along for the ride.


Watch out.


Saying Tata to my tatas. (part 2)

I woke up from surgery in the most amount of pain I could ever imagine. Like ever. I vividly remember thinking that I’d give anything to give birth to a basketball because at least it would take my attention off the pain I was feeling in my chest. Something had to be wrong, why was I feeling all this, why weren’t they giving me more painkillers! It was next level.


I am a bit fuzzy on details, at least I’ll assume I am, but all I know is that I was PISSED. Someone, more drugs now. I explained how much pain I was in and I remember a doctor or nurse or someone asking me what kind of pain killer I wanted – like I cared – anythinnnnnnng! I was snappy, and angry… I couldn’t help it. I remember telling them I’m not normally an asshole, but that is just how much I was hurting. They get it, right? I definitely felt like I was being reasonable, good thing there is no video footage to show just how ridiculous I probably was…


After some of the pain subsided a little more, and I was in post op recovery long enough it was time to head to my room and recover there. I felt like it was forever, and I’m pretty sure it was. I asked for my husband a million times, and I knew I had a couple friends waiting too – I just needed to see someone I knew. But man, it was over. I was ok. It was over.


The DL on the surgery:


The general surgeon successfully removed all of the cancerous tumours and cells, and both breasts were removed entirely. I knew that some lymph nodes ended up being removed entirely – but it wasn’t until two days later that I learned it was 6 lymph nodes, which seemed like a lot. They hadn’t been biopsied yet so it would be almost 14 days before I learned if there were cancer cells or not. (Spoiler alert, all lymph nodes were considered negative for cancer, phew. However isolated tumour cells were found in one of the lymph nodes, which is one of the reasons why I’m doing chemo… that’s another story.)


My reconstruction plan had evolved over the few weeks leading up to surgery, and I’m thankful for that. My HER2 status meant I’d be doing radiation, which can permanently alter any immediate reconstruction effort.  At first I was told that no reconstruction was possible – which was upsetting for obvious reasons – so I was happy when my plastic surgeon told me he wanted to try it a different way.


I have a permanent and final gel implant in my left side – which will not be affected by radiation. On my right side I have an expander. It’s basically a temporary fluid filled bag with a port in it – which means a needle can be inserted into the implant through the port to add liquid or have liquid removed during the course of radiation, in anticipation of the skin retracting. This means that leading up to radiation the fluid will be added to make the left side bigger than the right – expanding the skin, and then during the course of radiation the fluid will be removed as needed, in order to save the skin from getting too thin as it retracts (and risking the implant becoming exposed, or failing in another way), and the expander, in theory, will end up the same size as the left.


Science. It’s cool.


The skin can continue to change and be affected by radiation for months and months after it’s complete, so my next surgery to replace the expander with a final implant won’t be until the very end of the year, at the earliest. So, fingers crossed the expander process goes well and surgery won’t have to be a huge complicated thing! But, I will definitely have to do the whole surgery thing again.


I’ll look forward to the operating room playlist.

Saying Tata to my tatas. (part 1)

Ah yes, the day I said goodbye to my tatas. What a day. My memory is still extremely vivid and full of details, so I figure why not let everyone in on what happened that day, and what the deal is now.


I’ve never had surgery before, so I was a little anxious about going under anaesthetic, and also about waking up with a permanently altered body… makes sense.


On the day of surgery I arrived at the hospital around 6am, with my husband, and was ready to just do what I had to do and go with the flow. One step at a time, they prepared me. I had to have a lymph node biopsied at the same time so I stopped in nuclear medicine first to be injected with two solutions in order to help them find the right lymph node – I was told it would be removed if it looked suspicious. But that’s all I was really told. Then I had my IV put in, and I waited around for a couple of hours until it was my turn.



I was visited by my plastic surgeon Dr. Omodele Ayani ahead of time. It felt pretty casual, cracking jokes as usual… And once it was my time someone led me to the operating room and I walked in and sat up on the table. I had two main surgeons – the general surgeon was responsible for the bilateral mastectomy (double mastectomy) and removing the cancer, and my plastic surgeon was responsible for the reconstruction process.


My plastic surgeon walked in to mark my body before surgery got under way, and I noticed he had a portable music speaker in his bag. Tunes, obviously. I was into it, but then I became instantly alarmed when he told me he’d be listening to John Legend’s Christmas album! Whoa whoa whoa. What. I told him that top 40 music was what I’d listen to… but hey I’m not the one with the sharp objects. The person with the sharp objects gets to choose the playlist. Check.


He started to mark my body for incisions as I sat on the table, so I  took the opportunity to make a joke about how my boobs looked before kids – and after kids.


It was obviously the appropriate thing to do.


Hey look, before kids *lift them up*

After kids *let them drop*

Before kids *lift them up*

After kids *let them drop*


That happened. I did that.


Friendly banter back and forth ensued… Fun with my tatas right until the very end!


So, now it was time to lay back and get the show on the road. Doctors and nurses were bustling around me getting ready. I was told it would be about a three hour surgery and that everything was going to be ok. Just as they were getting ready to put me under anaesthesia, I could hear my plastic surgeon ask ‘Hey who changed the music?!” because all of a sudden it was playing some typical top 40 hit. “Lindsy, did you put them up to this?!”. The mask was already on my mouth but I laughed, and denied it… although I’m sure no one could actually understand me. Then another doctor said he was the one who changed it. It was a pretty solid way for me to go under, because literally 3 seconds later, I was out.


I’ll never know exactly how much Christmas music was played, and that my friends, will haunt me until the end of time.

Chemo round 3: the waterworks

So, my third round of chemo was an interesting one. It was most definitely the opposite experience of what my first two treatments were like, in an emotional way. Cue the waterworks.


If you read my previous post, you’ll know that the morning leading up to my treatment was not good. In fact, the evening before I was not great either. I could feel all the emotions bubbling up inside me, and I just could not control them. I couldn’t even rely on my usual tactics to push myself into a positive mindset.


It was the timing. And I cried. A lot. And I don’t cry, like ever. Black heart, remember?


My husband and I were on my way to the appointment for 2pm, and I started crying. One little thought… cry. Got it under control, another thought… cry. A little fight with the hubby, why not? Cry. WTF is happening to me. Cry.


I’m trying to get my shit together because I’m embarrassed. If I walk into the cancer centre crying everyone is going to be like ‘ohhh that poor girl is sad because she has cancer’ – which is one of the things I try to avoid and dislike very much – but I just couldn’t get it together.


I knew I was feeling anxiety, which is something I am not familiar with personally. My heart rate was up, I kept crying and I couldn’t control it… textbook anxiety. I wore my sunglasses in (dead giveaway) and was much quieter than usual while I waited for my appointment.


In the waiting room there was another younger woman, with a winter hat and heavy eyeliner (no hair) and I thought to myself ‘oh that poor woman has cancer too…’  SEE. I did exactly what I hate being done to me. Cue the tears haha… what is wrong with me?!


They call my name, the tears slowly keep coming, I sit in my chair… I just can’t even. The nurse sees me, and I tell her “Hey, I’m sorry, I keep crying and I don’t know why, I’m totally fine, this is embarrassing.” Obviously they feel sorry for me, but that the same time have totally dealt with worse. I just simply didn’t want to be there, and I was having a physical reaction to something I couldn’t use my rationality to control this time.


They access my port, which hurt. And made me cry… duh you should know there is a theme here by now. And then the nurse looks at me and says “Hun, do you want something to calm you down?” Oh great, I’m such a shit show they want to give me drugs. “What is it?” I ask, and she replies “Ativan, it’ll just take the edge off.” So, naturally I say yes, take it and wait. And cry. Jesus.


They start the chemo process, I’m trying to crack a couple jokes, my husband is trying to make small talk about vacations and things… and I’m talking, and laughing a bit, but still experiencing the watery eye syndrome. It’s totally ridiculous. The Ativan starts to set in, I feel more relaxed and eventually the emotions subside.



I even got a couple of pictures, because I knew I would look back and wish I had them. So, it’s my crybaby drugged up chemo look, what do you think?


The chemo went fast, and my shit was officially together after it was all over. Business as usual. I survived these things people call ‘emotions’ and hopefully it means I’m in the clear for a while!

The roller coaster

Yesterday morning I woke up in a bad mood. I woke up with a pretty loud and negative inner dialogue and I know why. My third round of chemo was that afternoon and I was out of time. Here is a quick glimpse into my brain, and yes this is meant to come off sounding like two 3 year old children are arguing….


‘Hey man, you’re in a shitty mood.’


‘No I’m not.’


‘Yes you are and you know why.’


‘No I’m not and whatever, bro.’


‘You have chemo later today and there is no way that isn’t the reason.’


‘I don’t care about chemo…. You have chemo…’


And so on, and so forth. One of the biggest pieces of feedback I get from social media engagement, blog responses, and in conversations with people is about how positive I am. I’m able to make people laugh, not let it get to me, take it all on and continue to live my life as normally as possible. It’s all true, that is me and that is exactly what I want people to understand about me.




There is some creeping negativity that tends to show it’s face every once in a while, and especially on mornings like today. I feel like I’m out of time again. I just started to feel better, and I have to go back to feeling sick, and being limited. Those who know me the best, know that I seriously don’t like being limited, I don’t like feeling sick, and I don’t like it when things prevent me from being my happy, energetic and positive self.


I woke up feeling overwhelmed by the housework that is going to pile up, the laundry still needs to be done, the kids are always making messes, I paid all the bills, oh yeah I’m not working, I don’t have the energy to do my job properly, I haven’t exercised regularly in a billion years, and then I see my bald reflection in the window…. Yikes.


That happened. I said yikes…


I know we all have bad mornings, or bad moments… But don’t let it become a bad day, a bad week or a bad season! I think it is really important to explain that I also have negative feelings, thoughts and moments too. It’s understandable, and completely human. The whole ‘no one actually fucking gets it’ thought will pop in my mind, and in the same minute I rebuttal myself with ‘you’re fine, it’s not their fault they don’t get it and everyone has their own shit…’ Seriously, they say it’s an emotional roller coaster because it is. And that’s ok. Feel it, live it, learn from it, turn it into something positive and good.