I am not okay with this surprise raisin

How I’m not coping well with being told to just be okay

Today I got some bad news. It was a tough day and I struggled to get through my workday with a smile on my face. I got home, had some Instant Noodles and cried on my sofa whilst watching reruns of TLC’s Say Yes To The Dress. And I hated this isolation that is imposed on the world. Don’t get me wrong, I understand and agree with it. But when you live alone with your cat, a bad day can become an increasingly isolating experience. There are no hugs available. No ‘I’m going to the coffee shop to watch the world go by and decompress’. No popping over for a glass of wine. Just a very empty apartment with a cupboard full of toilet paper. Yes, I know. I should have stocked up on chocolate instead.

We are all navigating uncharted waters at the moment and the best we can do is be a good soldier. We are told to do our part. That there will be casualties, but it’s part of the war efforts. So amidst the sadness and anger at the unfairness of life I felt today, I also felt guilty for this self-pity moment of wallowing. I mean seriously, what am I complaining about? I’m not sick. I haven’t lost a loved one. I’m not a superhero cut off from my children in an effort to save the world from a zombie apocalypse. Woman up!

The truth is, we are all anxious. Because material things like money, mortgages, the bump on your car, shouldn’t matter in times like this. But they do. And to brush them aside with a ‘there are way worse situations’ pretty much amounts to telling someone their feelings do not matter. That THEY don’t matter. And with time, lemme tell you. When nobody really sees you, it becomes so much harder to convince yourself you’re not invisible.

So to you out there. You who’s worried about something. Anything. I see you. You’re right to be angry. And sad. And whatever else you’re feeling. We are going through a tunnel and nobody knows what’s on the other side. So it’s alright to mourn whatever was precious to you before this journey started. Your tomato plants will die because your community garden is closed? I am outraged with you. You found a raisin in your chocolate chip cookie? How dare they! I am here. Call me. Whatever you are going through, I see you. Even if you’re not working as a volunteer in a Chinese hospital right now. You matter. Just reach out. It’s OK to be annoyed you got a flat tire. Yes, even right now.

So before you berate your 80 year-old granny for going out to the pharmacy in this godawful weather, or your parents because they miss their daily Tim Hortons’ coffee chats, remember what we are dealing with. Be kind. Be understanding. Like all of us, they are mourning. Don’t tell them what they should feel. Gratitude needs to come from a place of love. Not guilt.

And as for me, someone wise once told me that if I felt like people weren’t seeing me, I just happened to be standing in the wrong place. So I’ll keep doing me until I stumble upon a room full of joyful weirdos. Weirdos who see me, for everything I have to offer. The good, the bad and the ugly. And if you’re reading this, you’re probably already there waiting for me to join the party.

*Special shout out to Robin Arzon (@robinnyc) , an awesomely motivational Peloton instructor who mentioned the raisin story in her class today. I heard ya, through my crying/ spinning. And I finished the session.



How I am trying to focus on the Minimum Viable Product version of myself

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Annie Gelinas

Globetrotting freelance writer. Founder of wecouldbeheroes.ca. I value kindness in all its forms. (She/Her)