YEG – Page 2 – M A T E J K A

Thirty Two

I just wanted to take a moment to share my thoughts on this particular photo today. Kayley Reed (of Wear Your Label) had posted it to Instagram the other day, and it really struck a chord with me.

As soon as I saw it, I just sat there, mouth gaping.

“HOLY SHIT”, I thought. “This is exactly what I felt but could never have put into words.”

Because I’ve been that person.

I’ve been the girl who spent hours upon hours staring at her body in a mirror and scrutinizing every single millimetre of canvas. The girl who only knew how to spew hateful things at what she saw in the mirror because she was taught by the media that it was ugly or disgusting.

I’ve been the girl who starved herself; the girl who would pass up the foods she loved or quality time with her friends for supper because she couldn’t bear to see that food turn into fat. Who binged and purged, to fit a mould that wasn’t even designed for humans; to have her shoulder blades and hip bones jut out, like a picture frame corner stretching a mesh screen.

The hatred and sheer loathing that roamed around my head – I’m not skinny enough, I’m not hairless or smooth enough, I’m not tall enough or my skin’s not dark enough. My nose isn’t small enough, my lips aren’t big enough. I’m not “womanly” shaped or curvy enough.

You know what?

I AM EVERYTHING ENOUGH.

I am pretty enough, and curvy enough. I am brave enough, and bold enough. I am smart enough, and strong enough. I am brilliant enough, and inquisitive enough. I am fierce enough, and loyal enough. I am kind enough, and I am honest enough. I am complete enough.

I AM EVERYTHING ENOUGH, and I have had enough with the absolutely ridiculous pressures and standards put on women and girls in society today. It’s not attainable, it’s not healthy and it’s NOT important. What is important is your happiness and your feeling of self-worth (and yes, your health is absolutely important, too).

It has taken me almost 29 years to love myself, in a world that should have been teaching me to do just that from the day that I was born. So my advice is this:

Love your cellulite (booty dimples), and your stretch marks (tiger stripes). Love your bread rolls, your sushi rolls, all your rolls (from enjoying wonderful food with family and friends). Love your chin hairs (wisdom tinsel) and your back hairs (stray eyebrows). Love your crows feet and your laugh lines, and all the random lines that are earned over time (they are radiant records that you have laughed and felt joy).

Love and treasure every one of your “imperfections”. You grew into them, grew up with them and you continue growing with them. They are a part of you. Embrace it all, wholly, because without it – you are not you. And you, as you are, are perfectly imperfect. Speak out of love to yourself. Speak out of positivity to the girl you see staring back at you in the mirror. Be proud of what makes you unique. Be proud of each marker that shows you have lived and are living.

You are so much more than this spaceship you were born into; you are the soul within it. You are the accumulation of your experiences; the love and the laughter that lights up your face, the tears and the heartache that show you your strength and courage. You are the empathy that lends a helping hand, the compassion that comforts another in need. You are the wisdom that sees another through, and the encouragement that embraces a moment of weakness. You are the knowledge that instills pride in others, and the kindness that births a grin. You are a beacon of hope to someone in darkness, and you are the light of jubilation to someone morose.

You are incredible, and a mirror or a scale cannot show you that.

You have always been beautiful because your true beauty can not be physically altered. So hug yourself tight, forgive your past remarks, and begin to love every single square inch. You owe it to your soul, to defy what you’ve been subconsciously taught and realize that there is absolutely nothing wrong with the way you look. You are still the most beautiful word.

❤

Thirty

Numero treinta! OLÉ!

I guess I’ve sort of started doing ‘concert/artist reviews’ with my Johnny Reid post, so here’s another! Prepare for length; I have 3 artists to cover!

When I think of country music, I tend to think: home-grown, strong roots, authenticity.

I’ve been a country music fan my entire life. Some of my favourite memories from my childhood are weekend mornings, waking up to the sound of country music blaring and my mom singing along (sometimes the vacuum cleaner added an extra essence to the melody). I suppose you could say that country music runs through my veins.

Music – in general – is a very important part of my life and I love going to concerts, especially when they involve country artists. I’ve met so many amazing people through country music (and developed some pretty awesome friendships), and yet, each time I meet someone new or experience a show for the first time – I’m always so surprised with how I feel. I suppose maybe it has something to do with the way of the world these days, and how shocking it can be to still come across such wonderful, sincere people in it.

Last night was an amazing night (drunk stranger shenanigans aside). You know, this year I’ve really pushed to make positivity my main mantra, and it’s been great! But I’m not made of plastic and so there are still those bum days. April is always a tough month for me, but this year in particular (in less than one week to be exact) will mark the 10 year anniversary of the loss of one of the most important people in my life.

The #CertifiedCountry tour could not have rolled through at a better time for me. The line-up itself was like a golden triad: Gord Bamford, Joe Nichols, Beverley Mahood. WHAT?! I couldn’t miss it, and I’m SO glad I didn’t.

First to grace the stage was the lovely Beverley Mahood. I’ve been a fan of Bev’s since I was an awkward 12 year old, belting out “I Want A Man” into my hairbrush (Lace throwback, anyone?). It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I had the absolute pleasure of meeting her. Even though she hails from Ireland, when you think of a “Sweet Georgia Peach”, you think of Beverley. She is sweet as pie. She carries a genuine air about her; she has true authenticity to her character. She’s the type of person that, when she speaks with you, makes you feel like the most important person in the room regardless of who you are. One of the traits my grandfather passed on to me is being a good judge of character. In plain English, when I meet good people – I know it. Beverley is good people. She’s also got incredible talent! Check out her new single “New Religion“, which is SO good (and I’m so excited for her new album!!!)… or my all time favourite summer jam “Hope and Gasoline“. UGH. THAT MELODY. Her music evokes emotion, and it’s brought me through a lot over the years of my life – especially the more recent years. There are always those songs we hear that remind us of the good times and the bad/the happy and the sad…but there is one song in particular that helps to get me through those tougher than though days – “I Can’t Outrun You“. I find it so comforting when I find a song I can relate to – right down to the core of it. I often wonder if artists think about the lives they will touch when they write songs, or how meaningful their words will become to other people.

Next up was Joe Nichols. It was like a mega flashback to my teen years. His music was very popular in our household, so hearing it live really turned up the nostalgia. I’ve never actually had the pleasure of seeing him in concert, but he’s so awesome! He is such a down-to-earth performer, but at the same time is the guy that seems like a hella good time, you know? Songs like “Brokenheartsville“, “The Impossible” and “She Only Smokes When She Drinks” were always in the background noise of my life. Then of course, there’s the classics like “Tequila Makes Her Clothes Off” and “Yeah“. If you’re unfamiliar with his other work, you KNOW you’ve heard these two hits. I always find myself singing and bopping along to these when they’re on the radio. I’m glad I finally got a chance to see Joe perform; listening to him sing brought back so many of the wonderful feelings and memories I had growing up. It really was such a treat! Thankful for moments like that 🙂

And last, but certainly not least, Gord Bamford. Now, if I’m being completely honest here, I can’t say I was a huge fan previous to this show. I mean, I’m familiar with his songs (I’m always singing along to them at work when they’re on the radio), but I didn’t really take it much further than that until I purchased tickets to his show. Now? Fan, through and through. For me, sometimes it takes seeing an artist perform to really become a fan. Something to do with matching personality to music, I suppose. Gord Bamford is country. When you think of a country song, you’re probably thinking of something he created. You can really see his small town personality shine through everything he does. I’ve heard a lot of great things about him within the ‘country music circle’ and I gotta say I’m more than impressed. When I say that he is country, it’s because he has the values and the heart of gold to prove it. There was a very touching moment when he invited his cousin onto the stage with him, and presented him with an autographed guitar for his birthday. I’m pretty sure my eyes weren’t the only wet ones in the house. Like a boss (and a true leader), he took up-and-coming artist Jesse Mast under his wing to mentor him and show him the ropes. He speaks so lovingly about his family, and his pride for his children radiates out of his face like sunshine. He very sweetly took the time to sincerely thank us all for spending our hard earned money to see his show. He also does so much for charity in support of youth across Canada and in our own backyard. I can’t really think of a better role model to have out there for country music fans. He embodies the entire package. It truly is so inspiring that someone from a tiny place in Alberta can make such an impact! “When Your Lips Are So Close“, “Don’t Let Her Be Gone“, “Is It Friday Yet“, “Blame It On That Red Dress” – check these out. Also, keep your ears peeled for “Breakfast Beer” and “Apples” – I’m sure these two are going to be big hits!

If you have a chance to check out these artists on the Certified Country tour, do it! They all bring such a positive message with what they do, and that positivity is so infectious. You’ll leave smiling and feeling like your faith in humanity is restored 🙂

I loooooooove lace, and especially pairing it with anything ‘country’.

Lace, fringe, leather. That’s my #CountryChic !

Top: Ricki’s
Trousers: H&M
Blazer: Dynamite Clothing (similar)
Shoes: Ardene (I KNOW, RIGHT?!)

Twenty Nine

Friday night is always movie night for my boyfriend and I.
We LOVE the cinema, and so it’s one of our favourite things to do together. It also conveniently satiates my obsession with popcorn, so it’s like 2 birds with 1 stone really.

My style generally leans towards the Tom Boy end of the spectrum, and this “Rocker Chic Pink Lady” outfit (Grease, anyone?) I threw together definitely follows that theme.

(Currently, I am enjoying my Sunday in a leopard print onesie. I can’t determine which OOTD is better – Friday night’s look, or today’s. It’s a tie, really.)

Jeans: GUESS. You can find a similar pair here (bonus, they’re on sale).
I guess the specific style I’m wearing is no longer available. 😦 GUESS Jeans are amazing for fit and comfort, and they also help to accentuate the booty – which is always a plus 😉

Tops:
Bodysuit with Lacing (H&M)
Flannel Shirt (H&M) – This specific one I recently picked up on Clearance.
Leather Jacket (H&M) has been in my closet a few years, and is presently my most loved outerwear piece.

Shoes:
Winners Fab Find!

Happy Sunday, friends!

“A Sunday well spent brings a week of content.”

❤

Twenty Seven

I will always love playing with neutral colours.
Navy and beige/tan/camel are pretty much a match made in heaven.
You really can’t go wrong.

I also really love the oversized collar on this jacket, and the extra panel along the back shoulder.

Top: H&M (similar here)
Jeans: H&M (similar here)
Jacket: Le Chateau (some time ago…)

Peace & Love ❤

Twenty Six

When you live in Canada, and it’s “spring” (okay, almost) but you’re straight up sick of having to dress for winter weather. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.

SOLUTION:
Step 1 – Wear a dress, and bare legs (cause f**k snow, right?).
Step 2 – Throw on faux fur vest that, let’s be honest, is more like a giant rug with arm holes.

(FAB Winners Find! Still bloody awesome.)

I was playing around with looks last night. I recently got this ridiculously adorable dress (from Garage! Get it here) but I obviously bought it on a whim, and when I got it home I realized in horror that I had no idea how to style it.

That’s when I discovered that it goes exceptionally well with these amazing boots (courtesy of my S/O’s mama) and this ballin’ vest. Boho spring/summer chic, anyone?

One of the first things I thought of immediately after I threw it on (like I was a member of the Russian mafia) was a quote I’d seen online that goes like this:

“Walk in the club like what up I have social anxiety and I wanna go home.”

LITERALLY ME.

THESE BOOTS THOUGH. I am obsessed with them. I received them in November, and had tucked them away for summer. You can’t tell from a distance, but they are perforated and are technically “summer boots” so – not so Canadian-winter-friendly.

I caught a glimpse of the bright floral out of the corner of my eye, like the blinding of the sun when a cloud once covering it suddenly dissipates. IT WAS LIKE CHRISTMAS ALL OVER AGAIN.

“OH YEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!!!”, I gleefully exclaimed.
“THESE ARE PERFECT!!!”

Since this weekend marks the official beginning of spring, I am hoping with every atom in my body that the snow will disappear promptly, and I can whip this styling out in real time sooner than later.

Additional bonus: Floral is SUPER in right now (I’m looking at you Gucci, Dolce & Gabbana – you masters, you). Rediscovering these boots couldn’t have come at a more perfect time! ❤

Gold accents.
THREE HUNNED HASHTAG SWAGGA.

Yeah, I went there. Happy Friday! 🙂

Twenty Five

Any ladies out there with itty bitty legs like me?

Ever find yourself checkin’ them luscious gams in the mirror, but think: WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE A COUPLE INCHES LONGER?!

Have no fear, I have a solution for you – one that doesn’t involve a wheelchair and extensive rehab for months (I’m looking at you, leg extension surgery).

Pumps!

Look for a pair that has a pointed toe. The narrowing lines of the point will elongate your beautiful legs, boosting your height (sort of) – and your confidence.

** Extra length if you buy the pumps in nude!

I’m always looking for ways to feel taller, because yes, I do have a complex about my height. *insert blushing emoji here*

I saw these babies at Winners (right?!), and I LOVED everything about them. The colour obviously caught my eye first – hello, they’re cobalt blue – but the design was what really drew me to them. I’m loving the lace-up style with the sexy little cut outs.

Side note: There is a “rule” about little legs and ankle straps. That rule is to avoid them as they ‘cut off’ your leg at the ankle and therefore actually give the illusion of shorter legs. Let’s just avoid that rule for now. It doesn’t always apply.

I decided to play around with things since my usual go to is very black, or very white.

I feel like I’ve achieved “global” status with this look.

Global…get it?

You know, green/blue/tan? Earth colou…….. nevermind. I’ll just see myself out…

I paired these blue suede beauties with my favourite jade pants (Urban Behavior), and this AH-MAZING faux fur coat (H&M). Honestly, this jacket makes me feel so thug…but like, Beyonce thug. Is that even categorically correct?

MY POINT IS, I feel so badass/Queen-like in this piece (also, very warm so very practical).

If you don’t already own a ridiculous(ly awesome) jacket like this, you should definitely invest in one. You’ll cherish it and BONUS: if you’re socially ~~awkward~~ quiet like I am, it’s a GREAT conversation starter. People will be asking if they can pet you, left – right – and – centre.

It’s not that creepy, I swear.

If it does start to get overly weird, then you’ll look fabulous as you run the opposite direction. I recommend practicing the running if you’ll be wearing your blue suede shoes.

This post got kind of weird. Sorry.

(Not sorry)

For a 4 inch heel, these shoes are actually quite comfortable. Especially for naps mid-shoot (see below).

Ladies, don’t be afraid of heel height. It all depends on the style of the shoe. If the shoe supports you in all the right areas, then the height of the heel won’t be so intimidating.

Now that you know what to look for — Happy shopping! 🙂 ❤

Bonus Material

If you REALLY want to feel small and insignificant, take a journey into the mountains. Every so often I need that escape, and I had the privilege this past weekend.

To remind me to stay humble, and to remind me that my troubles really are non-existent in the grander scheme. The fresh mountain air also does wonders for a soul. I swear, it’s truly magic at work…like some kinda Harry Potter sorcery. Ya feel me?

Twenty Four

I don’t know why I always seem to find myself blogging at midnight, but there I was last night – 12:01 a.m. – sitting at my computer uploading/editing photos.

No wonder my sleep schedule is so screwed up.
I decided it was best to just go to sleep and finish the post today. Even though it IS the weekend, I still need sleep to function!

I just had the privilege to see Johnny Reid in concert. If you’re not familiar with who he is, GET FAMILIAR. He’s the country artist with so much soul that you feel yourself becoming a better person just by listening to him.

Side note: I’m not sure why people are always shocked when they find out I am a country music fan, but there it is…

Now…usually I will throw on my Justins and take my wardrobe colour advice from Mr. Cash, but I felt compelled to ‘spice things up’ for Mr. Reid. I opted for a more Classic look – with my fringe close by as always.

(Okay, I left the hat at home, though that was a decision I carried immediate regret for.)

If you’ve never been to a Johnny Reid concert before, you need to add that one to your bucket list. Whether you’ve heard of him or not, it’s a decision you will not regret.

I knew who Mr. Reid was. I was familiar with his wee songs, but I only learned about the man when he lit up that stadium like the Sun.

Now, I’ve seen many an artist in my time. Music is a huge part of my life, and I go to as many concerts and shows as I can. Perhaps to just feel the rhythm match my own, or perhaps as Johnny said so eloquently himself – to experience something greater than myself. Which I can honestly say I did when I entered those doors to his show.

I was NOT prepared.

Not prepared to laugh so hard because his humour is relatable and so on point.

Not prepared to feel so incredibly surrounded by love, and have it reach my very core.

Not prepared to sing, in such communion, with every other heart and soul beside me there that night.

Not prepared to cry so many tears, for being truly touched with the stories that he shared with us. Stories that reminded us all that we have so much in common; that we all stood there as one.

I was just not prepared at all to feel so many incredible emotions in one night. It was an amazing experience; it’s a night I will never forget. I don’t think I can say I’ve ever been to an event that was so humbling. You could FEEL his gratitude wash over the space, for every single person there, every time he thanked us all for spending our dollars to see him perform. It was absolutely dollars well spent. It is dollars I will spend again and again each time that he rolls through my city.

I left feeling inspired to pursue my dreams even harder. To spread love to all around me. To strive to love within myself just a little more each day. To share my gifts with as many people as I can. To do good, and to be good. ❤

Today, I can more concretely say, Mr. Reid – you are definitely my cup of tea.

Twenty Three

Heads up.
This post is going to be very serious, very long, very personal and probably very controversial.

This past week has been an interesting one, and a trying one, emotionally. It’s been tough dealing with being sick (thankfully the meds I got have righted that wrong!), but it’s also been nothing short of exhausting as a whole. With all of the news surrounding Kesha and her incredibly horrifying journey, I can’t help but relive my own.

It’s not something I talk about very often.
If I’m being truly honest, it’s not something I ever really talk about at all.

But I think I should. I am not the only one who has endured this hell in silence.

I adore Wear Your Label, and all that they stand for. You’ve heard me say this before. When I wear their clothing, I feel like a Super Woman. I feel like I can speak with a voice that bellows across mountains. I feel like I can conquer any obstacle in front of me.

I feel free to tell my story.

“It’s Okay Not To Be Okay” is such a powerful slogan because it carries so many applications to life. There are so many reasons that it is okay to not be okay, and one of those reasons is because sometimes really shitty things happen to us.

Incidentally, my shirt from WYL showed up a couple of days ago, and so it felt like as good a time as any to bring awareness to this arduous battle that so many have endured; a staggering amount of those in deafening silence.

Only 6 of every 100 sexual assault incidents are reported. SIX.
That means 94 cases out of every 100 go silent and unheard.

When I was 16, I lost my identity. I was sexually assaulted by a person in a position of power. His job description was that of a person who shapes the mind of an adolescent teen. Someone who passes on knowledge and wisdom, and who is branded as a generational empowerer. In layman’s terms, a teacher.

He should have known better. He should have recognized his actions and the repercussions they would have on a mind still growing and developing. He probably did. In fact, I’m absolutely certain he knew exactly what he was doing.

He just didn’t give a shit.

He saw a teen, with cracks and open wounds, and weaselled his way in. He found a way to earn my trust, and simultaneously break it for every other man who would enter my life. He induced unexplainable anger for years to follow. He snapped me in half like a twig.

But that’s not the worst of it.

The worst was protecting him, in fear of being judged or getting in trouble. Even after being confronted about what had happened, still I denied it because I felt an inclination to protect him as a person. ~~(How messed up is that?)~~

The worst was when the police showed up, forcefully entering my home, verbally abusing me and confiscating MY property as evidence to their case – further indulging me as the perpetrator, and not the victim that I rightfully was.

The worst was the absolute black hole of despair that I was thrown into, the suicide attempts and the following mistreatment from the medical community that I was subjected to – which did nothing to serve as a support for me, but rather as a further beating with the bat of the piñata that I had become.

The worst was seeing the damage it did to my hero, my mother. To see the shame and guilt on her face, for doing the right thing and alerting the authorities but feeling like she had let me down when she saw that I was not being protected the way that I should have been.

The worst was having to go to court. To be immobilized by fear but reassured that everything would be okay – only to be shamed and accused of being a liar.

The worst was having to live in the same community as this person, and exist in fear of him retaliating against me for sharing my horror and not keeping my mouth shut.

The worst was still having to live with the notion that it was somehow all MY fault, even after it was proven otherwise. Even after I’d had countless professionals tell me that I am not in any way to blame for this man’s actions, that I am in absolutely no way at fault for what has happened to me.

The worst is living with the after shocks of this traumatic experience, and the small but significant ways that this demon reappears into my life.

The worst was feeling like a complete failure as a woman in my relationship because I could not bring myself to have sex with my partner. Every time we tried, I felt violated and dirty. I felt broken and disconnected. Even though we’d been sexually active previous to my assault, it affected our intimacy for years after the fact.

Reading the news articles and reactions from people involving Kesha’s court trial breaks my f***ing heart. I’ve been in her shoes. I am living the damage of the image our society has created. I am speaking out and telling my story in solidarity with her and so many others who have walked, and are walking, in these shoes with us.

1 in 4 women living in North America will be sexually assaulted within their lifetime.
ONE. IN. FOUR.

When you say things like, “She had it coming”, or “She must be lying”, or “It’s unfair to brand him a rapist before she proves he actually did it” – you further perpetuate the notion that it was HER FAULT.

When we glorify a person’s image as a perpetrator, we turn the whole notion of what we are fighting for upside down. Too often, victims are patronized and belittled when they should be recognized and protected. Too often, the perpetrators bask in the lime light that they should not be entitled to.

In Canada:
Only 1-2% of ‘date rape’ sexual assaults are reported to police.
Only 2-4% of all sexual assaults reported are false.
60% of sexual abuse/assault victims are under the age of 17.
15% of sexual assault victims are boys under the age of 16.
HALF of all sexual offenders are married or in long-term relationships.
80% of assailants are friends or family of the victim.

Sexual assault is far more common than people suspect it to be.
Most sexual assaults are not committed by a stranger, but rather by someone close to the victim.

I was a victim, but I am not any longer. I am a survivor.

As with all darkness, there has also been light.

The best has been rediscovering myself and reclaiming my identity as a person. Having a sense of self and worth has been so crucial to the healing process.

The best has been having a partner who understands what I’ve gone through and holds me together when I crumble. Having someone who has been patient and loving towards rebuilding our intimacy in a safe and trusting environment; who doesn’t get upset when I tell him “No” because I am dealing with the internal aftermath of my assault.

The best has been being able to smile again. When terrible things happen, I fully understand that black cloud that moves in over your life. That presence that makes you feel like you will never have a reason to smile ever again. I promise you, you will. The fog will be lifted, and the sun will shine once more.

The best has been the strength and ongoing support. I am not strong alone. My strength is an accumulation of the love I have received from my family and friends, my community, my tribe. From the stories and people that emerge from their own darkness into the light. From those who fight alongside to end the stigma surrounding sexual assault.

Together, we are strong. Together, our voices will carry.

We Must Be Swift As The Coursing River
With All The Force of A Great Typhoon
With All The Strength of a Raging Fire

Nineteen

Pre-apologies for the RBF in these photos.
Sorry, not sorry; that’s just my face.

Generally, people do yoga to create “zen”, to relieve stress, to unwind, to just be. That’s definitely why I started my personal yoga journey. Apparently, I actually do yoga to induce creative ideas. No relaxing or unwinding what-so-ever.

In referencing Eat Pray Love once again, my yoga experience in a nut shell:

“Okay. Simply empty your mind. Breathe. … Stop thinking. Why is this so hard?
Screw you Corella, how the hell does she do this?
She looks like friggin’ Mother Teresa.”

(Perhaps it had something to do with my glasses constantly falling off and annoying the absolute crap out of me)

Honestly, sometimes you just get ideas in your head that you have to rush home and try out. Black on black on black – AKA my every day wardrobe.

Not my every day wardrobe? Playing around with my makeup and hairstyles.
This = fun!

Lighting will be the end of me….

Fun fact: My late grandfather served in the RCAF (Royal Canadian Air Force) during the second World War. This ‘vintage’ bag find was a little feather from Heaven.
Now, I feel like I can carry a piece of such an important man everywhere I go.

To lighten things up:

PS: This hella cute jacket – an Ardene steal of a deal.

To end:
Here’s proof that I can smile (and in fact do so a lot IRL)

CHEERS TO THE FREAKIN’ WEEKEND!

❤