Hello My Name Is Mirka And…

Hello, my name is Mirka, and whenever I feel like my life is taking a step towards a direction I’ve wanted and I feel a success coming on, ALL my insecurities just jump out and try to make me feel like the tiniest and shittiest imaginable.

I would say that I suffer from the famous “sabotaging your success”, don’t worry it’s not contagious, but it’s very very real.

The thing is, and I’ve written about this before, I’m not wired in a way that I could just enjoy my life when things go well. I’m learning to not behave like this, as it’s not beneficial for myself in any way. But it’s so deeply ingrained in me that it’s very hard, and especially when I’m on the verge of new, something that I’ve wanted to have or do for some time.

I always these days tend to forget that I’ve moved from country to country with little to no plans, and done those things with fear in my belly but still done them. I don’t see myself as a brave person that much, I am proud of what I’ve done these days, but I don’t see those things as brave but that is just what they might be.

But, insecurities. Those motherfuckers, pardon my french. But that is truly what they are, doubters of the highest level.

The fact that I’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf and fairly sensitive might not help in my low moments that much. Obviously I’ve learned to harness those parts of me, like my anxiety and depression or my epilepsy. You find ways with the help of professionals that work with you to live your life to the fullest or at least plumpest.

But goddamn when a moment of true insecurity hits you to your core, you are at it’s mercy and can only ride that shit out.

These days I’ve also learned to say how I’m feeling to a friend or my poor Mom(thanks for always supporting me and giving me some much needed tough love <3). What I’ve found that does, is shake me from that ridiculous feeling those moments bring in me. Because the truth is, insecurity is something we make in our heads, it’s not that real. It’s part of the doubt family, which is also fairly fictional and rarely has anything to do with reality of your skills or knowledge of said insecurity.

I hate and love that feeling when I feel absolutely ridiculously idiotic, when my friends or Mom just shake me out of that moment with some much needed tough to the toughest love. Because that’s exactly what should happen. For me it works, I’m not saying it’s the same for everyone, but because I am where I am with myself and the work I’ve done with and for myself, I know I can take it all.

Admitting our insecurities and vulnerable feelings is what makes us stronger, it’s just not something that gets the airtime it deserves. Admitting our imperfections makes us more real, and that is never a bad thing.

I’m not sure why I still get so petrified every now and again, to the bone scared. And it’s always, absolutely always just before things are going to change for the better.

The struggle I’ve lived with, mostly because of my own doing let’s be real and honest here… Yeah, I have not made my own damn life too easy for myself at times. But with over 36 years now under my belt, I think it’s time to just enjoy this all. See and embrace the fact that I’ve worked so hard on myself, I’ve changed so many massive things that are real hard to face. That is brave and even I can admit that.

But because in the past I had a habit of making my life harder than it needed to be, I have moments like today when I just feel like I’m crumbling under it all, the new that could open all those doors I’ve worked towards.

Fear is not always a bad thing, it’s actually one of the best things to keep us awake and alert to what is going on around us, but when it stops us to our tracks it’s the one in charge. And that is something we should never let it be.

So the conundrum is that how can I be the one who takes risks fairly easy and is impulsive, can also be the one who is absolutely terrified of her life going smoothly and actually enjoying what it has to offer.

How can the need to put yourself out there and the need to learn something new that shows how you just don’t know everything, which is impossible by the way, can crumble that confidence that shows itself so easily when it comes to taking risks or living the exact way you want when it’s only you.

What I’m realising while writing is that when I do things on my own I’m not too scared, when it’s to do with someone else I get terrified, not something that is a mind blowing realisation by any means. Actually makes me almost laugh out loud or at least snort a bit.

But like I’ve said before, there are also downsides to being able to be so comfortable on your own… You don’t have to show your uncomfortable moments the same way as when you are with others and those moments when in front of them. But that doesn’t really make sense either when I think of myself, because I’ve always been really good at working with people and feel rarely scared or intimidated in those moments. I’ve learned how to build this certain kind of wall of confidence around me with my outgoing persona in those moments, that falls off right away when I am on my own when I enjoy my introverted ways maybe a bit too much. I’m a forever working progress and I’ve accepted and truly embraced that quite some time ago.

Our humanity is sometimes just too much to carry. We get tired of how we behave, tired of some of our personality traits that just are part of us no matter what we do, tired of it all. Sometimes we question if any of it makes any sense, in those moments it usually doesn’t. And that is okay too, we just have to try to remember it when it all feels a bit too much.

No one knows everything, and will never know everything, if something then that would be terrifying. How boring would our life be if nothing would keep us on our toes every now and then?

Self love and understanding aren’t always nice or easy, but it is what we will or should do daily as a practice that never ends.

I can feel the tension releasing in me while I write this, I can feel the gentle understanding and love finding it’s way back to me. Slow and steady my breathing is calm again from that anxious pace it was earlier today. I move my body to my favorite songs and just let the soothing music flow over me.

In the end it’s usually fairly small things that help. Talking to a friend or a family member and saying that I just don’t feel the best with this. Asking for help when feeling unsure how to move on with the task at hand. Give yourself a damn break and some credit for all you’ve gone through and done. And kick those insecurities to the curb and not feed them, because they can eaaaaat!

And remind that it is completely natural to feel a bit all over the place when you are not working and are on furlough, and trying to figure your future in the midst of it all. Come on, we’re in the middle of a pandemic still too!

The fact that I’m far from what someone has decided to call perfect, is one of my favorite things about myself. It all makes me real, and real is good.

So, here I am feeling so much better once again after I’ve let my fingers do the dancing on this keyboard. I’m reminded why I did this as much as I did before and why I should definitely get to back to that routine.

PMA ❤

 

It’s Complicated, My Relationship With My Body

You remember when you had the option to choose “it’s complicated” as your relationship status on FB? Or maybe it’s still there, no idea. Yeah, that came to my mind tonight while I was walking and thinking things, like I usually do while moving. It made me think of my body, or more how my relationship with my body has always been a bit complicated.

It goes to my relationship with food too, but I feel that those two are basically the same, at least sometimes.

I was walking, fairly fast and thinking how this can be my best when it’s only four years since I ran my strongest Ultra Marathon. And how I build myself physically from close to zero to that in only couple of years. Four years feels such a tiny amount of time that it just doesn’t make any sense when I think about it.

Around that time I was also in the best shape in how I felt about my body in general. I was strong and still curvy in the right places to me. I was at least 20kg lighter than I am now with my little over 90kg. Which is the heaviest I’ve ever been. And I can tell that it’s a lot to carry.

You feel this amount of excess on you in too many ways. I’m also in that age that things like this really make a difference. I remember how one day few months ago I was walking the stairs to home after work, and I realised how out of breath I was. It scared me and made me feel super bummed out. I was just thinking how did this happen.

I was really active kid, and I loved to move my body all the way to my early adulthood and then it just stopped. I remember noticing that if I don’t move my body or do nothing, I gain weight really easy. But I was also battling one of the worst depressions at that time too. And when I get depressed, I eat. Those two go together way too well in me. And my poor body went up and down while I went through my depression.

That’s how it’s always been. My body has to try to hold on while my head is having it’s “moment”. It’s gone from healthy and active to overweight and sluggish so many times that it’s scary to really think back. And now I’m in that overweight and sluggish in a way I’ve never been and while I got tired of my overall nothingness, I got tired of feeling shitty about my body too. But it’s not any easier to be patient with your body than your mind, probably even harder as you really have to do the work yourself. I can ask for help but I still have to move my body myself and think what I eat.

And it’s funny how we view our self worth through how our body looks, and how we think others look at us. On my walk I remember how I viewed my self worth through how someone else wanted me, in a sexual way, when I was younger. It feels so crazy but it felt really normal back then, in my early twenties. Basically if someone wanted to have sex with you, then you were something. In my case, that kind of behavior lasted really short amount time, which I am extremely happy about. But it doesn’t change the fact that we all still in our adult years have moments when we think our worth through the idea of someone wanting us sexually.

Even as a 35 year old woman I have moments when I think if that someone thinks of me, or if that person misses me, or was I just a weird weak moment? I am fairly sure I’m not alone in those kinds of thoughts. And it’s such a weird combination because why does any of those matter when it comes to how I view my body. But the reality is that even though I’m in a fairly good place with myself, the way I view my body and self worth, I still want to feel wanted. Like any of us. But when you have a hard time getting your butt moving and feeling better about yourself, it’s hard to believe that I could be wanted in that way too.

So, yeah, it is complicated. The relationship between yourself and your body. It’s all part of the bigger picture of how you think of yourself. And as lately I’ve had to face my fears and thoughts of myself, this is coming up too. On top of the actual fact that all of my clothes are just too small for me. And my stubborn ass doesn’t want to or more like can’t afford to buy bigger just for the sake of it. I want to be able to look my naked body in the mirror and be proud of my capable and strong body, and not feel like I do now, a bit disappointed and sad. But it is tied together, the more I move my body and do things that make me feel better, I slowly see myself and the world in a clearer way. But it’s just such a slow process that the willingness to keep moving forward takes all I have in myself and I fail more than I care to admit. I still am the master of I’ll start tomorrow or next Monday. And I wish I would realise that I’ve done so many amazing things already that I should know that I can do this now too. But I guess I just have to show it all to myself once again. I already have a goal in mind, but I’ll keep that to myself for now.

For me right now, it’s baby steps, slow and steady. Trying my hardest to be gentle but firm with myself. Remind myself that I really can do and be better for my own sake. This is for myself, no one else. Even with all those thoughts, but they just make me a human with real and normal wants and wishes.

PMA ❤

Things That You “Shouldn’t” Speak Out Loud

img_3091Those things that you’ve been keeping inside of you for almost 20 years, or 10 years or couple of years. Those things that have made you who you are without you wanting anything to do with them. Those that been with you even though you would rather have all of them gone. Those that you feel embarrassed or ashamed or scared of. I’m talking about something that is probably the hardest thing to write “out loud” but also feel like it’s the most important thing to write Out Loud. I’m talking about how I’ve been living and carried with me the notion of someone abusing or harassing me, mentally or physically. And not just once, all those times when I knew that telling about them would do nothing. Or knew that I should tell but didn’t have the courage to do it, because I was so ashamed.

Like that time almost 20 years ago, when a boy I really liked, almost raped me. Saying while pulling my pants down, that it will only last a second and how it’s not going to hurt. And how me saying No, didn’t do anything to his attempts, before I manage to kick him away from me. And how I didn’t realize before just couple of years ago how wrong and huge thing that is. How it broke a piece of me when I was just starting to grow as a person and a woman.

Or when an old boyfriend in the middle of a fight hit my head to a wall and how him saying I’m sorry many times just made the whole thing disappear with time.

Or when studying at a restaurant school, working in the teaching restaurant, nervously taking an order, older man smiles at me and touches my butt. And me feeling like I can’t do anything about this, nothing, almost like it’s normal behaviour from men.

Or when someone decides that it’s completely okay for them to first send you dick picks to your email and then start to call you in the middle of the night just heavy breathing. And when you go to the police station to report him because his phonenumber wasn’t secret, they just say to you that they can’t do anything and that I should just change my phonenumber.

Or all those times when someone has used my kindness and mentally abused me and played with me, to a point when I think that I’ve done something wrong and I’m some piece of shit whore.

Or those days when it was so warm that I had to go on my runs late in the evening, wearing regular running shorts and a shirt, and being followed, yelled at, whistled, honked and followed with a car. And that terrifying knowledge in you that you can’t do anything and rather not even react because you’re alone there and have no idea what they can do if you say something to defend yourself.

There’s been a lot of talk about this subject lately in different medias. It’s made me sad, then angry, then sad and then feel that all those years of layers that I’ve built on top of those moments of feeling like nothing, are peeling off and me feeling pretty scared to feel and remember all of them again.

One thing that I’ve had in my life since I was a kid, has been mental harassment and violence. I’ve grown to it, thinking that it’s normal that someone does and says things like that. Which has followed me finding myself in similar relationships. Those years when I was growing to me and who I am as a woman, were scattered with different kind of abuse. And the saddest thing is that the world we live in makes you not want to talk about them, because the response usually is something like “are you sure it really happened like that?” or “I think you’re over reacting” or “are you sure it’s not your fault too?” or “that’s only your side of the story”.

I remember how when I was in my early twenties, I turned the whole thing around trying to be in control, by using my sexuality as a tool. Thinking that if I’m strong and sexy and “willing”, then I’m in control. Which obviously wasn’t right. Because what had happened in my past, had left pretty damn dark scars in me, which meant that I was terrified when it got “down to it”. I was able to talk dirty and tease but when it got to the actual thing, I could not be more scared.

The way guys were and still are, selfish in how they behave when it comes to sex, makes you feel like your pleasure isn’t worth the same as theirs. So you give more than you receive and feel guilty when you say that this is not right. Or even just wanting more  than you were given, aka what you deserve equally. But when you have those memories of someone touching you or trying to touch you in a way that you didn’t want or feel at all comfortable with, it’s even harder to be you with all of you. You feel so strongly that you don’t deserve anything and that you’re not worthy, you’re nothing in a way.

It’s really scary how things that could feel really small to someone, can hurt and leave deep deep scars in another. The moment you feel insecure when you walk out the door, is already too much. Or when you feel that it’s better that I don’t say what happened, because it doesn’t lead to anything better. Or when you just know that you will never hear “I’m sorry for what I did” from that person whose used you in one way or another. It’s also really scary how so much of mental or verbal abuse happens close to us. It comes from those who should never, ever talk to you like that. Any more than some random drunk guy trying to put their hand in your crotch or say something completely wrong to you.

Those years when I was supposed to grow as a woman and me, were the worst because I was broken to pieces and didn’t even realize that I had been done that. I thought that it was something that I did, or at least was made to feel like that. When I was already feeling super insecure with myself, and didn’t believe that I deserve only the best, like anyone else.

The way words can hurt you as much or even more at times than any physical deed, is something I’ve only woken up the last years of my life. I’ve gotten it close to me and from people I have no idea who they are. How someone can make you feel with just few words and take your whole being away, is really terrifying.

Now that I’m starting to be myself and knowing who I truly am under all of those layers, I’m also seeing myself as that woman I am and want to be. Knowing my worth. But at the same time it’s the most terrifying moment when you get all of those layers peeled off from yourself and realize how much wrong have been done to you. I feel more naked now than I ever did when I wrote about my depression. I feel scared how people think of me when I’ve been honest about something like this too. Thinking that maybe there’s so many things wrong with me that they don’t want anything to do with me. Or maybe I’m able to be there for someone whose been in a situation like I have. I know that saying things like this out loud can cause a “shit storm” but at the same time, if I ever want to be free from this, it’s better to get it out. This just happens to be my way, because deep inside me, I wish that I can help at least one person with this, while I am healing myself.

I’m tired of being afraid of speaking the whole truth. I’m tired of feeling I’ve done something wrong, when I’m the one whose been done wrong. I’m tired of thinking that I don’t deserve the best. I’m tired of our society blaming every girl as soon as they learn to walk. I’m tired of thinking that what I wear is somehow too much or too little. It’s a never ending cycle of something. I’m tired of someone thinking that they can control my life when I’m the only one who can do that decision. I’m tired of being scared to be me, whole me. I’m tired of carrying all those scars and broken pieces that I didn’t have anything to do with. I’m tired of hiding things. I’m tired of feeling like my happiness is always less than someone else’s. I’m tired of feeling less. I’m tired of being the one who someone thinks they can strip from my self worth. I’m tired of feeling afraid.