A pilgrim's progress

Nostalgia time! Today, I wanted to reflect on the years I spent in my church's youth group. I was only there for about three years, but it greatly influenced my adolescent life and the way I eventually formed my identity as a Christian woman. To this day, I do think that the people I spent my time with there and the experiences I had were some of the most inspirational of my youth. Youth group was the first place I felt like I actually belonged, where I wasn't being judged, where I was loved and accepted to a certain degree. Looking back on that time, I see that it wasn't all as perfect as I thought it was. Many of the things I learnt back then I definitely do not see eye to eye with now. Such as the following...

Bullshit things that I believed in as a youth group girl:

1. That Lucy Pevensie > Susan Pevensie.

Because Lucy stays loyal to Narnia and Aslan, while Susan forgets about Narnia, thus growing farther from Aslan. She gets distracted by clothes, boys, and regular things that older girls get into. If you haven't figured it out already, Aslan represents God. You don't want to be known as the girl who picked dresses and shoes over God.

2. That I would one day marry one of the guys from Hillsong United.

It didn't matter that they were quite a few years older or that they lived all the way across the planet in Australia. If you were in youth group, and you were into boys, you probably had a crush on at least one of these guys at one point or another.

3. That Captivating was the best and most accurate book written about women. Ever.

This book told me everything I ever wanted and needed to know about my utmost hidden desires as a woman. That a) I desired to be rescued by a man, b) I desired to be recognized as beautiful in a man's eyes and c) A man is basically also a metaphor for God.

4. That abstinence made me more valuable.

Because a pure body was the greatest gift I could give to my future husband. Besides children. If I had sex before marriage, I would be indirectly cheating on my future husband. It didn't matter if the person I had sex with would eventually be my husband. And since cheating = adultery. And adultery = official sin from the ten commandments, then abstinence = my best bet and only option. 

5. That if I truly respected men, I would dress modestly so as not to provoke them into doing something to me that they would regret later.

Never mind men respecting women. My self-respect as a woman was ultimately tied to how men saw me. My identity, my value, my moral character, even my personal safety, could be measured by the length of my skirt. Short skirts led to sex before marriage, causing not only me to sin, but the boy I was with to sin. My sin and his would be my fault for dressing provocatively in the first place.

6. That boys don't like girls who look like boys.

As a tomboy teenager who was attracted to guys, I was basically fucked.  

7. That I would never fall in love with a woman.

It just wasn't an option and it never actually crossed my mind, despite the obvious signs that pointed at this someday happening to me. If you loved God and you put Him first, then He could help you overcome anything. Even love for the wrong person.

This post might seem bitter, but it really isn't. I loved my time in that church and I will always appreciate the people that I met there. Despite the pseudo brain-washing, youth group did help me come to terms with everything that I wasn't, and everything that I didn't believe in. I thought my journey of self-discovery happened in youth group, but really, it happened after I left.

Not all those who wander are lost

I'm going to dedicate this post to a person of utterly no significance to me. Why? I guess because sometimes, it's nice to acknowledge the people in your life who were nothing but a passing moment, a blip in the short timeline that is your history on this Earth.

I knew him as Fed-Ex when I first met him. I got acquainted with him and his friends Farmer and Caper when I was in Florence, Italy nearly four years ago. He was somewhat of a legend due to the trials and tribulations he had to face to get his ass out of Canada in the first place. It was a miracle he managed to make it to Florence in the time that he did. We were all Canadians staying at a hostel in the city's suburbs - a typical Renaissance type building with wide staircases and white statues. Us Canadians naturally migrate towards one another when we're overseas, mostly for the sake of exchanging Canadianisms, reminiscing about Tim Hortons/hockey and getting wasted while doing so. Most of my time in Florence was spent admiring architecture and art during the day and getting piss drunk at night. I briefly remember a game of hide-and-go-seek in the dark and a conversation over wine about suicidal animals.

Anyway, today is Fed-Ex's birthday. I haven't seen him in four years and I probably will never see him again for the duration of my life, but him and his friends were probably one of the better wine buddies I've had. They were the first Canadians I met while backpacking through Europe, and let's be honest, you never really forget your first Canadians.

So here's to you, Fed-Ex. The likelihood of you reading this and recognizing the person as yourself are slimmer than me becoming pope someday, but I wish you the safest of travels in the future. I hope that none of those adventures involve you getting deported/lost/trapped in airports. Although, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they did. Lao Tzu would certainly have approved of it.

Happy birthday from this fellow travelling Canadian. 

Gaying it up in the mountains yo

i'm a writer without any words

i'm a story that nobody heard

when I'm without you

Just came back from A-Camp aka the best weekend eveeeeeeeeeer.

So many feelings, so little time. My facebook dashboard is exploding in pictures and memories from so many people and it's making me sad.

All I can say is - if what some Christians say is true, and all queer people will go to hell, then hell probably feels like A-Camp and that isn't necessarily a bad thing. 

In fact, far from it.

We were orange peels in another life.

I was perusing through my old stuff today because I was bored and sick and drinking lemon honey water by the ocean full. Anyway, I came across this mini narrative that my former classmate Scott wrote about me. This was from a couple years ago, right after I came back to school from my backpacking trip through Europe. Reading this made me feel nostalgic, which is pathetic and is proof that I am totally old. But really, when you think about it, 2009 does belong to another decade. Kids who were born in 2009 are going to be turning 3 this year. 


Back in 2009, the earthquakes in Haiti and Japan hadn't happened yet. Wikileaks hadn't leaked all that confidential information. Lady Gaga was somewhat normal. William hadn't proposed to Kate. Osama bin Laden was still alive. The Harry Potter films hadn't ended yet. I was a little shit who was convinced I would one day win an Oscar.


[For which category(ies) was still to be determined]


Long story short, 2009 was a fucking long time ago. I'm surprised I still have this story, so I thought I'd post it here because it's basically a miracle I kept it. Scott wrote it in French, so if you understand French then good for you. If you don't, then have fun reading this. 


So, this is my biography, according to Scott:

Que penses tu de cette histoire (de ta vraie identité (oui je sais la vérité))?


Bonjour! Je m’appelle Wes. J’étudie français à l’Université de Simon Fraser. Au présent, je suis le cours de 301W, enseigné par Dr. Laghzaoui. Bien que ma vie semble celle d’un(e) étudiant(e) normal(e), j’ai de grands secrètes. Mon histoire commence en Russie où je travaillais comme espionne pour le KGB. Après ma mission à la Corrée du Nord et aux États-Unis pendant la guerre froide, l’université de la Columbie-Britannique m’a recruté pour espionner le programme de français à SFU. J’avais la chirurgie esthétique vu qu’un homme russe de 2 mètres, 250 poids et qui a une soixantaine d’années se vois comme le nez au milieu de la figure. Par conséquent, j’ai changé mon identité, mon apparence et mon sexe. Je me suis devenue Wes, petite et mignonne étudiante de français.


It's amazing how accurate this is.