YouAreEnough

Why is it that sometimes a shortened week can feel like the longest?

Monday was a holiday, which meant a shorter week, yet somehow this one felt incredibly long. Maybe it’s because the calendar doesn’t account for deep exhaustion or everything we’re carrying emotionally.

This week brought some sad news that someone I’ve known since childhood had passed away. We had reconnected years ago through social media, and her struggles with mental health had brought us back into each other’s lives. Although our journeys were very different, I can’t help wishing I could have done more. It’s a difficult reminder that sometimes we can care about someone, yet the circumstances are complicated, and there are things we simply cannot change.

At the same time, I’m still navigating my dental reconstruction, waiting for appointments and answers, and worrying as the teeth that recently had root canals are beginning to shift and feel quite sore and fragile. Instead of feeling like I’m moving forward, I’m scared that I’m moving backward. I’m scared of what it might mean and whether everything will be okay (thankfully, I have a follow up appointment next week with the Endodontist who did the procedure).

Add in other personal struggles, and honestly, this week has left me feeling overwhelmed, stuck, and a little more broken.

Being broken doesn’t have to mean you’re beyond repair, though. Sometimes it means you’re learning to rebuild yourself with more compassion, more wisdom, and a deeper understanding of your own strength.

We don’t always have to be strong. We don’t have to find the silver lining in every difficult moment or pretend we’re okay when we’re not. Healing isn’t always a straight line.

Sometimes, we just need to give ourselves permission to feel what we’re feeling and trust that this moment isn’t the whole story.

As Shabbat approaches, I’m reminding myself to pause, breathe, and let go of the things I cannot resolve today. Maybe for today, the unanswered questions, the worries, the grief, and the fear can wait.

For now, I want to make room for some peace, even if everything isn’t okay.

Shabbat Shalom. May we all find a little light, a little healing, and a little peace in whatever we may be carrying.

Last night, or should I say, very early this morning, I headed downtown for an MRI (Rich took me of course!). My appointment was scheduled for 12:45 a.m., and I didn’t get home until just after 3 a.m.

This appointment had been scheduled a YEAR ago to coincide with an appointment I had back in January at the Neurofibromatosis clinic. I’m already due for another follow-up at the clinic in a few months. It’s the only clinic of its kind in Canada, but I still can’t wrap my head around having to wait an entire year for this MRI. The clinic prefers that imaging be done through the hospital it operates out of, Toronto General Hospital, which is why the wait times are so incredibly long.

At least by the time my next appointment rolls around in the new year, the team will finally have these results to use as a baseline moving forward.

I know I’ve been so consumed by my accident over the last few months that it’s almost become a distraction from all the OTHER mental and physical health shit I still deal with and struggle with on a daily basis.

Neurofibromatosis is one of them.

About 18 months ago, I was diagnosed with Neurofibromatosis type 1 (NF1) by a dermatologist. A biopsy was done right away to help confirm the diagnosis. I remember feeling both confused and grateful that he was able to put a name to something I’d been bringing to the attention of numerous doctors and dermatologists for years.

Looking back, the signs were there. Several of them.

I have what I now know are neurofibromas, along with café-au-lait spots, scattered across my body. Some of the tumours are under my skin, while others are very visible on the surface. After years of not having answers, finally having a name for it was validating, but it was also overwhelming to learn what that diagnosis actually meant.

NF1 is a genetic disorder that affects the nervous system and can cause tumours to develop along nerves, as well as changes in the skin and other parts of the body, including the brain and spine. While many of these tumours are benign, some can cause severe complications, and certain types carry a risk of becoming malignant.

I’ve likely had this condition since birth, without even knowing it.

As I get older, and with the many hormonal changes my body has gone through, I’ve noticed more and more of these tumours appearing, hundreds likely by now. It’s something I’m becoming increasingly aware of, both physically and emotionally.

I’m still in shock that it took more than 50 years for someone to finally put a name to what has been going on with my body.

Over the past 10 years or so, this condition has added another layer to the body-image challenges I’ve already struggled with for much of my life. As the tumours become more visible with age, I’ve become increasingly self-conscious. Sometimes, I feel like people are staring at me, especially during the summer months when more of my skin is exposed. It’s hard to explain what that feels like unless you’ve experienced something similar, the constant awareness of your own body and the worry about how others might see you.

Since my diagnosis, I’ve lived with a constant mix of overwhelm, fear, and unanswered questions. One of the hardest thoughts to sit with has been the possibility that I may have unknowingly passed this genetic condition on to my children. That uncertainty is something I carry with me, even when I’m trying to focus on everything else life throws my way.

I’m also being screened more regularly now for breast cancer because NF1 is associated with an increased risk. The MRI I had last night was to help the clinic establish a baseline and look for any concerns involving my brain and spine, including lesions or other changes that may need monitoring over time. The scan required an injection of contrast dye called Gadovist to help provide more detailed images.

It sucks that it took a year to get this MRI. A YEAR. But despite the frustration, I am profoundly grateful that this clinic exists, and that it exists here at home. Having access to a team that understands this disorder, knows what to look for, and can help guide me through the unknowns ahead means more than I can put into words.

Because the truth is, the unknowns as I get older are scary. Not knowing what might develop, what might change, or what I may have to navigate down the road is a lot to process, this also includes my eye sight too.

Like I didn’t have enough shit to deal with already!

Life feels heavy sometimes, and lately, I’ve been physically and mentally exhausted constantly. But even in the middle of the appointments, diagnoses, waiting lists, and uncertainty, there are still little moments of peace and beauty to be found.

This Thanksgiving weekend, I’m reminding myself that I don’t have to have everything figured out to be grateful. I can feel overwhelmed and still find joy in the changing colours on the trees, time spent in nature, a long weekend, and the people I love.

I’m especially thankful for family and friends who make the hard days a little easier, and for the reminders that life is still happening beyond everything I’m navigating.

I may not have all the answers, but I can appreciate what’s good and find gratitude in the little things.

Happy Thanksgiving Canada 🦃




 

Today, October 10, is World Mental Health Day. This year’s theme is “Lived experiences heard: real voices, real change.”

I know some people may be tired of hearing from me. My story. My journey. My experiences. The things I’ve been through and the things I continue to navigate on what sometimes feels like a never-ending journey with mental health.

And I understand that not everyone will connect with my story. But if I’m being honest, before 2014, I didn’t pay much attention to days like today either. World Mental Health Day would come and go, and I probably wouldn’t have given it much thought. Mental health wasn’t something I truly understood through the lens of lived experience. I didn’t know then how deeply it would shape my life, change my perspective, and eventually become such an important part of my purpose.

More than 12 years later, I am still learning, still growing, still navigating my own journey, and still using my voice to advocate for mental health.

Not to toot my own horn. Not because I have all the answers. But because I know that lived experience matters. Because sometimes, sharing our stories gives someone else the courage to speak up, ask for help, or realize they are not alone.

To those who share their lived experiences publicly, I see you. I know that speaking openly requires a kind of courage that isn’t always visible to others. Our stories are personal. Our healing is not always linear. And choosing to share parts of ourselves with the world can leave us feeling vulnerable in ways others may never fully understand.

My story is still unfolding. Still evolving. And I will continue to share it, not because I need everyone to listen to me, but because I hope it encourages us to listen more closely to one another.

Over the years, my lived experience has become more than just a part of my story. It has become a voice. A reason to advocate. A reason to challenge stigma, encourage honest conversations, and remind people that mental health deserves attention long before someone reaches a breaking point.

Because if there is one thing I have learned since 2014, it is that our stories are not measured by how many times we tell them, but by the difference they make when someone finally hears them.

Real voices. Real experiences. Real change.

That is why days like today matter to me.

And that is why I will keep speaking.

Not because my story is the only one that matters, but because every story deserves the chance to be heard.

#worldmentalhealthday #yourvoicematters #livedexperience #youareenough

Yesterday, I had a much-needed day off from work. It was Staff Appreciation Day, a day to recognize and appreciate all the hard work and dedication our staff put forth during the hecticness and chaos leading up to and throughout the High Holiday season, which finally ended Sunday evening.

I spent a good portion of the day resting, until I had yet another dental appointment to attend in the late afternoon.

This appointment was a follow-up to the one I had two weeks ago, when I had three root canals done. Yesterday, my dentist needed to put in the permanent fillers. Once that was completed, we sat in his office to debrief about any concerns I was having (there were plenty) and to go over the notes he had received from the Endodontist who performed the root canals.

He told me that I am still nowhere near out of the woods with the root canals.

Needless to say, that didn’t make me feel any better!

He also told me that the Endodontist wants to keep a close eye on my “canine” teeth, the only teeth on my upper row that I thought were safe. So, of course, that didn’t make me feel any better either!

Then came another referral. My dentist is now sending me to yet another specialist, a Prosthodontist, who specializes in the restoration and replacement of missing or damaged teeth.

I never knew there were so many different kinds of dental specialists out there!

I’m frustrated and feeling pretty depleted today. I’m grateful, though, to have such a loving and caring team looking out for me and wanting to make sure I’m getting the best care possible. I truly appreciate that.

It’s just…a lot.

Every appointment seems to come with more next steps, more things to monitor, more appointments, and, of course, more money. And we haven’t even begun talking about the two teeth that didn’t make it at all.

But, for being such a good patient yesterday, I got to pick a special prize from their toy box, the one reserved for all their good little boys and girls after they finish their appointments. I may be a grown-up, but apparently I still get a prize for being brave.

I plan to bring my new squishy ball with me to all my appointments from now on. Hopefully, it will help relieve at least a little bit of the stress that comes with sitting in that dental chair.

One appointment at a time.

Last night, we celebrated a beautiful wedding with beautiful friends.

The groom is one of Jacob’s oldest and dearest friends, and throughout the evening, I found myself feeling incredibly emotional (although we all know it doesn’t take much to make me emotional!).

As I watched them all together on the dance floor, I found myself especially moved by the bond between this group of boys Jacob has grown up with. From teammates to lifelong friends and confidants, to standing beside one another as a groom and his groomsmen…

You could see it in their laughter, their goofiness, their hugs, and that easy familiarity that only comes from knowing someone for most of your life.

But they aren’t boys anymore.

They are hardworking, accomplished men, each building their own lives, relationships, careers, and families, carrying all the responsibilities that come with growing up. And yet, somehow, this little circle has remained just as tight as it was when they were goofball kids.

A true testament to friendship.

And there is something so deeply beautiful about that.

It’s a rare gift, the kind that is built over years of shared memories, growing pains, laughter, loyalty, and simply being there for one another through it all.

As I watched Jacob and these boys, one by one, walk down the aisle, I felt incredibly grateful to witness these friendships in real time, and to see this next chapter of their lives unfolding.

What a gift it is to have your people beside you through every chapter.
To still have the boys who knew you then, standing beside the men you’ve become now.

Some friendships really are meant to grow with you.

Mazel Tov again to the handsome groom, Jonah, and the stunning bride, Lexie.

#friendship #weddings #boystomen #groomsmen #brideandgroom #mazeltov

Two newborn babies, born just three days apart, brought our families together through a chance encounter exactly twenty-four years ago this week. And over the years, that chance encounter has blossomed into what I can only describe as our chosen family.

Our children are as close as close can be. Watching them grow up together, always there for one another, no matter what, makes my heart so full.

Throughout the years, we’ve created so many lasting memories, including today’s annual apple-picking tradition, now in its tenth season!!!

Ironically, though, because of my accident, I can no longer enjoy the simple pleasure of biting into a crisp, juicy apple myself. But that certainly didn’t stop me from soaking up every other moment of this tradition.

No matter how busy life gets or how unpredictable things may be, making the effort to come together, however and whenever we can, is something I truly treasure about our chosen family.

These moments give us a chance to pause, reconnect, focus on what really matters, and, of course, laugh endlessly together.

And even though we all felt an empty void without Maggie there to frolic through the apple orchard, Sadie had the best time and helped us create some new memories and build upon our ever-growing traditions.

And the day isn’t over yet! The traditions continue well into the evening with dinner and the ultimate fall treat, delicious homemade apple crisp for dessert, lovingly made by all the kiddos. It never gets old, no matter how old they get.

Thank you for always going the extra mile to keep this very special tradition alive. It means more than words can say.

Missed you today, Jon. ❤️

#traditions #friendswhoarefamily #applepicking #nevergetsold #family #daystoremember #mentalhealth #mentalwellness #summerofrich #falledition

It’s Friday night, Shabbat has arrived, and after a very long, very tiresome couple of weeks, I’m more than happy to just unwind, curl up, and watch a light movie before the weekend begins.

Because once Saturday morning arrives, there really won’t be much time to slow down. It’s jam-packed from Saturday morning until late Sunday night, full of celebrations, friends, traditions, community, familiar faces, and so many reasons to smile.

And yet, if I’m being honest, I’ve been on quite a downward spiral lately.

So tonight, I’m trying to take this quiet moment to reset. To focus on what’s ahead. On the good stuff. On the people and traditions and moments that I know will bring me joy.

But there’s one thing clouding it all,  something that probably sounds so small to most people, but feels enormous to me.

Smiling.

Since my accident, smiling is something I’m so incredibly uncomfortable doing. Something that should feel so effortless now takes thought. Sometimes courage. And, if I’m being completely honest, a lot of self-consciousness.

Which feels almost cruelly ironic when the weekend ahead is filled with so many reasons to do exactly that.

So maybe this weekend isn’t about pretending everything is fine, or forcing a smile because I’m supposed to be happy.

Maybe it’s just about showing up.

Being with my people. Holding onto the traditions. Friendships. Community. Allowing myself to laugh. And finding the joy where I can.

And maybe, somewhere in amongst all of it, I’ll get lost in the moment instead of worrying about what my smile looks like.

Here’s to a busy, chaotic, joyful weekend, and to finding a few reasons to smile, even if smiling now feels a little unfamiliar.

And then, when it’s all over, I am grateful to have Monday off.

So I’ll have one whole extra day to recover from the celebrations, the chaos, the late nights, and hopefully, all that smiling.

Shabbat Shalom

September is National Self-Care Awareness Month and Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. 

Last week was really fucking hard. It nearly broke me.

I got to a really dark place mentally and it scared me a lot. 

So this weekend, I tried to regroup.

I spent time with my people. My family. My friends. My community. I celebrated Rachel’s birthday. I got outside. I laughed. I ate cake! I slowed down. I did things that reminded me that there’s more to my life than whatever I may be feeling in that moment.

And today, I realized I still needed to keep doing that because today also felt hard.

So I stepped away from my desk at work for a few minutes to take a walk.

Breathing, moving my body, and giving myself a minute.

Self-care isn’t something you do once and suddenly everything is okay. It’s choosing yourself over and over again, especially on the days when it’s really hard. 

If you’re struggling right now… please check in with yourself.

Reach out to somebody. Take the walk. Sit outside. Cry if you need to. Tell someone you’re not okay.

One step, one stride at a time.

#selfcareawarenessmonth #suicidepreventionawarenessmonth #itsoknottobeok #youareenough #mentalhealth

How is it possible that our baby is 24?

Your dad and I are so incredibly proud of the creative, hardworking, passionate woman you’ve grown into. You have such a special way of putting your whole heart into the things you love, and it’s been amazing to watch you follow your dreams as you make your own way in the world.

And now, watching you put that same love, patience, and joy into becoming a doggy mom to Sadie over these past few months has been one of the sweetest things to watch. She absolutely adores you as much as you adore her. She is one very lucky pup who has brought so much love, laughter, joy, and just the right amount of puppy chaos into all of our lives as we begin to heal from the deep loss of Maggie.

We love you to the moon and back, forever and a day. Here’s to 24, and to all the adventures, puppy cuddles, and wonderful moments still ahead.

Yesterday took a lot out of me.

And I’m feeling it today in big ways.

By late afternoon yesterday, I was beyond mentally and physically exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that settles into your bones and makes you realize just how much your body and mind have been carrying.

Yesterday morning, I had an appointment with a specialist to have not one, but three root canals done on my front teeth.

For the first time ever, I decided to try laughing gas. I knew I needed something to take the edge off, and honestly, I’m very glad I did.

I also finally had the wire removed after two long months.

I thought seeing my teeth without it would make me feel better. Instead, all it did was cause further anxiety as to how much more work there is still left to be done.

In about a week or so, I’ll be back at the dentist for the next step after the root canals and to discuss everything that still needs to be done, including my other two teeth that didn’t make it at all.

I left the clinic frozen, swollen, and in an immense amount of pain.

I went home for a couple of hours, took some Advil, then headed back out for my second appointment of the day.

Thankfully, Rich was off yesterday to support me and chauffeur me around.

I definitely needed both.

My second appointment was with the cardiologist my GP had arranged for me. A few weeks ago, I had an echocardiogram, and yesterday we went over the results and tried to get to the bottom of why I fainted without warning.

For the most part, the echocardiogram was okay, which was reassuring. There was one concern that needs further investigation, so in a few weeks I’ll be back for a stress test and a Holter monitor. She also suggested some non-heart related scenarios that would be on a more neurological side of things.

And so it continues.

By the time I got home, I had very little left in me.

And underneath it all, there is still so much fear.

Uncertainty.

Frustration. Frustration of realizing that even though I’ve already been through so much, I’m nowhere near the end of this.

There are still so many appointments ahead. So many procedures. So many questions without answers.

I’m tired.

I’m scared.

I’m overwhelmed by how much there still is to deal with, and by the financial strain that comes with needing so much care, so many appointments, and so many procedures.

I wish I had some poetic or hopeful way to wrap this piece all up, but right now I’m just trying to get through the day.

But seeing as today is the first full day of fall, I’m going to leave you with a little highlight reel of some of the micro-moments of joy I managed to find my way through during what was, without a doubt, the shittiest summer of my life.

They may not have made the pain or uncertainty disappear.

But they mattered.

Because even during the shittiest seasons of our lives, there can still be little moments of joy tucked in between the hard ones.

#youareenough