Behind the Smile

I've been struggling with writing this post for the last couple of days. I wrote it, I deleted it, I wrote it again. I saved it. And here I am again, re-writing, editing, thinking... and I'm still not sure I want

to post it... but here it is.

Monday night I was at a family dinner celebrating my parents' birthdays. Out of the blue my brother-in-law says "Oh my God, Robin Williams killed himself!" Understandably, everyone's reaction was the same: "What?!" And over the past couple of days we've been inundated with posts about his life, his amazing works, and perhaps not surprisingly quite a few posts about mental illness, specifically depression.

Let me be clear: The last flipping thing I want to do is capitalise on the unfortunate and very sad death of someone who brought millions of people joy and laughter. That is NOT the point of this post. In fact, not referring to it in my blog has been my main reason for not posting this piece again and again over the past few days. But I just have to speak to something that I keep seeing in the media and on facebook and twitter.





Almost all of the posts that take issue with people's reaction to Robin Williams' death start with or reference the tweet that Evan Rachel Wood & The Academy posted:

Let's Talk, Shall we?

For Canadians - today is one day a year that we all know what the phrase "Let's Talk" is about. Bell, the phone company, has decided that on February 12 they will be donating money towards mental health awareness, research and care for every text or long distance call sent on their network, as well as every tweet with the hashtag #BellLetsTalk. It's the one day of the year that I'm sorry I'm not with Bell as my cell provider because I'd be texting the HE-double hockey sticks out of their network today.

I've heard over and over again that the #1 lie everyone tells is this: "I'm fine." and I honestly believe that's true. So often we smile, lie and move on because we either don't believe that anyone else wants to know our issues or problems, or that they don't really care. Maybe that's true in some cases, but let's stop lying to each other and especially to ourselves.

Hard to fit?

Disclaimer: If you're a guy reading this you'll probably be either bored, confused, or weirded out. I suggest - if you're looking for something to occupy a bit of your time, other than reading my blog, that you click this link instead: Think Geek

Okay ladies - now that we're alone...

I'll start - my name is Tea and I am a hard-to-fit woman.

Now - I know what you're thinking: "aren't we all?" - and of course to some degree that answer is yes. But if you're able to walk into a clothing store at the mall and pick up ten items and have half or more of them fit the way they should - I'm not talking to you. It's not that you don't have fit problems, I'm sure you do - but the fact of the matter is that I'm totally completely 100% jealous of you. Just so you know.

No - I'm talking about women like me. Oddballs if you would. Now, usually I'm totally okay with being a bit
oddball - in fact, I relish it. I like being "different", and I'm a fairly confident person, so I can usually pull it off. But - brace yourselves ladies - I. Hate. Shopping.

Nope - not joking. Hate it. Ten-thousand percent, loathe with every fibre of my being, wish I could be just about anywhere else, would rather clean my bathroom than shop for myself. And here's why. I'm "hard to fit".

Here's the rundown so you know what I'm talking about: