Author: Nadine Duperron

Music truly is a language we speak when words cannot be found. For me, it presented itself at a time I needed it the most, from a most unexpected source.

Those who know me personally, know that I listen to mostly hard rock. I love the energy, the fast pace, the expression of both power and angst. It speaks to me, lifts me up, gives me an outlet for just about anything that I’m thinking and feeling, and allows me to express myself in a way that words can’t.

Today, music took a very different turn for me.

Recently, someone very close to me suffered a personal tragedy. It left me with a deep sense of loss, for both this person and myself. I found myself grappling with confusing emotions… how could I feel this sense of loss, when this tragedy didn’t even happen to me? Was I being selfish? How can I be a shoulder for this person to lean on, when I’m struggling to stay afloat myself? What am I even feeling?

This morning, I got an email from my youngest daughter’s figure skating coach. She sent three selections of music for my daughter to choose from for her new solo, and although my daughter was not with me at that particular moment, I decided to listen to them.

The first selection took hold of my heart within the first few notes, and I continued to listen. As the song progressed, a sense of recognition dawned on me. This was it. This was exactly what I have been experiencing. These were my words, enveloped in a song I hadn’t even known existed until moments before.

There are no accidents in this universe. I was supposed to hear this song.

Primavera – Ludovico Einaudi

You can hear the ebb and flow between calm and chaos. I could picture myself first, taking deep breaths, being in a meditative state, bringing forth a sense of peace. Being the rock, the calm, for both someone else, and myself, giving assurance that everything will be okay. Then came the slow build-up of tension before the inner shit inevitably hits the fan. Then comes utter turmoil, frantic dancing, stumbling, losing footing, finding it for just a second before losing it again, trying to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense at all.

Then, you can almost hear the falling of tears afterward. I felt them, because sorrow and confusion naturally follow a tragedy. I pictured myself resigned, seated on the floor, exhausted from the dancing, and I was finally able to release some of the tears I didn’t realize were waiting to come out.

Sometimes, wellness comes in the form of feeling what we do not want to feel. It comes from acknowledging that life can bring unexpected, painful challenges, and that it isn’t selfish to care for yourself after these challenges present themselves. Feelings are real, they are facts, they are part of what our souls are made of, part of our human experience… including grief, and heartbreak.

I didn’t have words for what I was feeling, but thanks to an email from someone I honestly don’t know all that well, I now have a piece of music to express these emotions, and I feel assured that healing will come.

How has music helped you cope with challenges in your life? I’d love to hear from you.

Xoxo
Nadine

Disclaimer: I am not a qualified fitness trainer. I have not received any formal fitness training. This article is based solely on my personal experience.

In my previous article, I mentioned that I took up running back in 2016. I had very little past experience with running, or with any physical activity for that matter, but before I knew it, I had downloaded the C25K app, the Runkeeper App, bought myself a handy-dandy armband for my phone, and off I went.

What I didn’t mention was that I started running completely out of spite.

Remember break-up guy? He was a runner. Very shortly before the break-up, he had registered for the Vancouver Sun Run, and because I was embarrassingly attached to him, of course I wanted to tag along. I couldn’t run if my life had depended on it, but my plan was to power-walk. I bought myself what I thought was a cute “running outfit”, and proceeded to completely ruin his plan to run the 10 kilometer course. He had registered to run, and instead he ended up walking with me. Considering how things turned out just a short time afterwards, I don’t feel particularly guilty about this, I’m just stating the facts.

Then the break-up happened. I needed an outlet for the feelings that ensued besides drinking copious amounts of alcohol and crying, and somehow I got the idea that because this guy was a runner, perhaps I would feel some sort of closure if I ran as well. I also got it in my head that he thought I COULDN’T run. What he did or did not think at the time is completely unknown to me, but I latched onto this thought, and decided I was going to prove him wrong. I would show him. Sounds petulant, I know.

I downloaded the apps. I bought my armband. I downloaded a bitchin’ play list. Then, because I have social anxiety, and the thought of other people seeing me run just about sent my anxiety over the top, I waited until evening, and did my first run on the elementary school field.

I was hooked. Runner’s high is actually a thing, and even starting from the beginning, I felt it, and freaking loved it.

I did my second run on the same field. When I went for my third run, the school field was actually being used by a soccer team. By this time, I was determined to keep going with the training, and I had a choice… either skip my run that day, or get over my fears and try road running. It was a surprisingly easy choice to make, and my road-running began.

I noticed that when I started to feel sad, or anxious, or lost, I could go for my run, and come home feeling better. It had become a coping mechanism, an outlet, and essentially, a friend that had been available to me all along, I just hadn’t acknowledged it. I also noticed, after a few weeks, a happy side effect of my new fitness routine. I started to lose weight. I weighed 186 lbs before this leg of my journey began, and if memory serves, I had dropped about 15 lbs in just a couple of months. Losing weight had never been my intention, but it was nice to see, and a great motivator to keep going. I needed that motivation, because as with any training program, the sessions were getting increasingly difficult.

I adopted a comfortable routine where I would do a training session one day, then just walk the next. It gave my sore knees a break, and still allowed me to get out into the fresh air, just me, the road, and my tunes. When I walked, I would walk a full 10 kilometers. Somehow, 10k had become my magic number, and I didn’t want to do less. I was determined to be able to run the distance eventually.

There were some training sessions I had to repeat, because I couldn’t complete them the first time. I took this as an opportunity to persist, and grow, and even with being a perfectionist (I’m a Virgo… perfectionism is just part of the package), it became okay to not succeed the first time, so long as I didn’t give up. Life lesson.

My youngest daughter saw how much running was helping me physically and emotionally, and started coming with me, which was just about the coolest thing that could have come out of my journey. I started to register for races. My daughter and I registered for a 12k trail run in Kaslo (which happened to land on my birthday), and although we walked a majority of it, it gave us the opportunity to bond, get out in nature, and visit a community we otherwise wouldn’t have. Kaslo is beautiful, by the way!

Fast forward again, to October (just shy of 6 months since I’d started running). I had registered for a 10k race in Kelowna. I had no illusions of racing, I had yet to even reach my goal of running a full 10 kilometers without stopping for any walking breaks, I just wanted to see if I could actually finish it without collapsing.

I did it. No stops, no walking breaks. The sense of pride and accomplishment I felt was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I sometimes still get tears when I think of it.

This journey, which began out of spite, turned out to be one of the most valuable gifts I could have given myself. I learned to step outside of my comfort zone. I bonded with my youngest daughter in a way that otherwise wouldn’t have been possible. I learned to push through difficulties by being my own cheerleader (when you feel like you cannot take another step, you’d be amazed at how valuable reminding yourself that you CAN do this becomes). I learned to cope with uncomfortable emotions by venting them on the pavement. I learned to enjoy my own company. I learned to listen to my body, push when I needed to, pull back when it was feeling like too much, land softer, shoulders back, chin up, one foot in front of the other, keep going!

I learned that when life catches you off guard, honour your body, honour your spirit, keep faith in yourself. Whatever your challenges are, you’ve got it in you.

xoxo Nadine

A few years ago, I got a tattoo on my forearm. When the artist placed the transfer on my skin, I saw the lettering was actually larger than I had envisioned. I asked her to go ahead and create the tattoo… it was a personal statement I wanted, NEEDED to make, so having it even more obvious than I had originally intended was, to me, a great idea, and one that I have not regretted for even a second.

The tattoo, as you can see, says “Warrior”. There it is, in all its glory.

I’ve been asked time and time again, “What does it MEAN?” At first, I didn’t want to share what it meant to me, so I would simply reply “It’s personal”. Not a satisfying response, I know. It was, in fact, met with a great deal of eye-rolling, and “FINE, don’t tell me then”. So then I modified the reply, reframing it with humour to mask the discomfort of being asked to share my feelings. Yes, I know it’s on my body for the world to see…. I know! But still… when asked the GREAT QUESTION, I would reply, “It means I don’t take any shit from anyone” (which is not a lie), everyone would nod emphatically, we would all have a good laugh, and then we would get on with our day peacefully.

I am here to admit that this statement I chose to permanently display on my body actually means a lot more than just that. It is my personal truth, and a daily reminder of the potential that I, along with every single woman on the planet, can live up to this statement. This truth. I believe this is who we are.

I had just gone through a break-up. Not just your typical “It’s not you, it’s me” or “I’m just not that into you” sort of break-up where you ugly-cry for a couple of days, have fleeting thoughts about where you went wrong, then go dancing one night with your girlfriends and by the time you get home, you’re basically over it, or at least well on your way. This one caught me off guard. It crushed my soul. It ripped my guts out. I did not see it coming. I was in a dark, bottomless, teary pit for a good part of two months. My friends, bless their hearts, tried so hard to distract me. What they, nor I, realized, was that no road trip, or amount of ice cream, or drinking into oblivion, was going to get me out that pit. I was going to have to climb out myself.

(I think it is worth noting that I am NOT in any way, shape, or form, suggesting you go out and get a tattoo when you get your heart broken…. This is just how this particular chapter in my story began for me.)

I can’t remember how I came across this particular book, but I’m thanking my lucky stars that I did. It is called Warrior Goddess Training: Become the Woman you are Meant to Be.  I’m going to try to not spoil it for you too much, as I think it is a book worth exploring for yourself (Hint: it’s worth it!), but what I will tell you is that this book contained ten lessons that resonated so deeply with me, I had the book finished within just a couple of days. I could not put it down. Each lesson presented me with a challenge that I found was already rearing its head in my daily life, I just hadn’t paid attention.

The first lesson, which was the most powerful to me, given my situation at the time, was “Commit to Yourself”. Sounds straight-forward, right? It wasn’t to me. I’ve always been really good at committing to relationships (friendship as well as intimate), to my family, to my job, and to causes I believed in. Commit too myself? Isn’t that selfish?

It really isn’t.

Becoming your own best friend may seem awkward, or foreign, or as mentioned above, selfish, but if you can do that, I believe you are well on your way to healing from any situation. It starts with feeling the feelings. Every negative situation comes with feelings. Instead of squashing these down, I rode them like the waves they were. I cried when I needed to. I yelled into a pillow. I wrote down all the sadness, the loneliness, the despair. I called, texted and visited my closest friends to vent my feelings. Bless their infinite patience with me.

I then reminded myself, every time I remembered to, that who I was had nothing to do with what others thought of me. I gave careful consideration to everything “he” had said was wrong with me. I then began practicing dismissing those judgements for the drivel they were, until eventually, I no longer had to practice.

I made a commitment to my health, mostly because that was something I was able to control. I began to make myself healthier meals. I took up running. I started to heal. I started to fall in love with myself again. With a little time, I, once again, began to feel worthy.

I’m not saying these steps “fixed” me! Little did I know how many challenges were still waiting ahead. What I’m saying is these steps were the first on an incredible journey of learning to heal myself, rather than waiting for someone else to come along and fix me, make me feel good about myself, give me the validation I thought I needed.

So back to the tattoo. After reading the book, contemplating the lessons within, striving to learn them and apply them to my life as best I could, I wanted to be able to remind myself of who I really am inside. And who you are. And who every single woman on earth is.

We don’t need validation from others. We don’t need our sense of worth to come from an outside source. We don’t need anyone fighting our battles for us. Everything we need to care for ourselves, all the bravery we need, is in our hearts, and in our minds.

We don’t need saving. We are warriors.

xoxo Nadine