Cat Skinner Club

The Gift of Change

Photo by Honor Beauty

This story begins nearly two decades ago. Against the backdrop of two close family members succumbing to cancer, my fledgling marriage to a wonderful man succumbed to a number of things. Inexperience, lack of a practical plan, selfishness, impulsive behaviour, fear, pride, stubbornness, poor financial management, lust, and immaturity for starters. When I think back on that time, I can’t remember details. Life back then feels like a dream that slips further away with each moment of waking. I’ve come to equate this feeling with detachment. With trauma.

Fast forward to today. If you read my last post, you’ll know that I’ve been waiting out this past moon cycle to make a call about the space I’ve been trying to build with someone because it’s been tricky. I’m just going to set that down here on the table. Keep it in your periphery for a moment, okay?

Last weekend, I was able to join the fabulous Jenny Arndt at the equally fabulous South Coast Guest House for one of her day retreats. She’d messaged me because she felt, on a deep intuitive level, that she needed to coax me to come. Jenny was introduced to me by another incredible lady who is a mutual friend, but I’d only been crushing on her and her work from afar. I felt like she was kindred, and when I finally met her on the Summer Solstice, I knew I was right. 

I wasn’t sure what to expect from the workshop, which included some meditation, breathing, coaching and Qi Gong. I stayed open and curious, and after we practiced Qi Gong in the garden and sat down to free write before lunch, something cracked open like an egg.

It began with a question, posed to us earlier: “What negativities have I been investigating?”

The answer surprised me. 

For months, I’ve believed that my attempts at relationship-building were failing because of what the other person was struggling with. Despite their openness and vulnerability in sharing the grief they were working through, I thought the grief was the main barrier. As I reflected on this question Jenny posed, the word ‘neglecting’ appeared five times, and guess who was doing the neglecting? 

Me. I was neglecting myself.

I’ve created this narrative where I am a solid, independent woman. In so many ways, that’s now become my reality. But in relationship, I suddenly start to lose all sense of this independence and begin defining my worth through the relationship itself. I pour all of my energy and attention into the relationship. Into the other person. Into trying to help them. I used to believe this was a beautiful quality, a sign of my devotion. On the weekend, I realized this was co-dependence. 

No relationship in my life will ever flourish if I lean on it to satisfy so many of my needs. That must always be my job first. Romantic relationships should be like the icing on the already decadent cupcake of my life. The weight of my needs had become a greater barrier than the grief or the fear. This weight had been slowly crushing anything good that could exist between us. 

The heft of trying to fulfill my needs externally has also been crushing me, relationship after relationship. I’ve stayed in places far too long because of how desperate I was to see those needs fulfilled. I’ve stayed too long hoping someone else would ‘show up’ and ‘give me’ what I need. 

What I need from myself and what I need from relationship aren’t two separate things. They are the same, and they must be supplied entirely by me. I cannot ‘unplug’ (Jenny’s word) from myself and plug into someone else’s source. When I feel the urge to do this, I need to adjust my own plug and make sure it’s secure. If I’m not truly plugged in, I can’t truly see what’s in front of me. I can’t see the other person. 

“Stand in front of someone because we want to experience them rather than because we want to receive something from them.” – Jenny Arndt

Why did I begin this post with the mention of my marriage?

The day after this retreat, my mother handed off a huge bag full of photos and letters from my former married life. I realized that the dissolution of this relationship was the catalyst for these co-dependent tendencies taking root. Perhaps this behaviour was born from an unconscious need to prove I could make relationship work, which took precedence over realizing my own needs. Perhaps some separation anxiety took hold. Whatever the case, I knew in reading the first letter from a battered shoe box that I’d made a powerful connection.

These kinds of connections are the only way that I can change my behaviour. 

It took a couple of days to let that settle in and make sense. There was huge discovery, and then enormous emotion that bubbled out in ways I felt powerless to control. When this happens to me, I know the emotion is the surface layer and the truth is hanging out just below. Instead of writing, I did a lot of thinking. Instead of sharing, I sat with it for a couple of days.

There’s one more person who deserves a mention here. About a month ago, my good friend Paje (who took that lovely photo above) turned me on to this concept of Human Design. Through her exploration, we learned that I am a Reflector. There are all kinds of cool things about Reflector types, but my main takeaway is that I require a full lunar cycle to make a big decision. If I had honoured this slow pace in my past, I would have saved myself so much heartache. 

And so, with yesterday’s new moon, I told my truth; that I wanted to stay to see what this looks like as I learn this life-changing lesson. It seems unlikely that we really even know what is possible between us without me plugging back into myself. I don’t know what will happen next. I’m not measuring our time by the moon at this moment. I’m not waiting for anyone to ‘show up’. I’m showing up for myself. Maybe this person came into my life to help illuminate this truth? If that’s the case, it’s one of the greatest gifts of emotional growth I’ll ever get, and it sure as hell explains the deep connection I felt as we were thrown together by the universe.

I received a lot of blessings on my recent birthday (July 24th). Gifts of food, flowers, jewelry, books, art, words, crystals, wine, love. The greatest gift, however, is the gift of change.

This is going to be a radiant trip around the sun.

Sparking Joy

It wasn’t a clean break. The space I was trying to build with someone else is still a work in progress because we weren’t ready to let go yet. It’s currently relationship limbo. That nebulous space where you know something is there, but nobody knows what it is, exactly. It seems I’m the kind of person who needs the security of a label. ‘Single, but dating’? ‘It’s Complicated’? I don’t know how any of this relationship stuff works, which is no small irony considering the career and life path I’ve chosen.

I’m taking until the end of this lunar cycle on the 31st to feel my way through to the next steps with this one. Do I keep trying? Do I start to let go and begin to date other people? Do I end it completely and take a break? It’s been challenging, and a few certainties have emerged. I’m certain I need to put the vast majority of my energy towards mom life and school. I’m certain that there are specific personality types/behaviours that trigger incredible anxiety for me in relationship. I’m certain that I’ve lost my sense of joy.

Losing my joy is frankly scary. I blame nobody but myself for this. My ability to find joy, or at the very least, beauty in every day is what gets me by. I’ve been so consumed in this relationship puzzle, and in fact, the relationship puzzle at large, that I’m losing the wonder of each moment. Why have I made finding romantic love so important? Is it because I feel that it ultimately eludes me? Is it because I’m afraid of being alone? Am I trying to prove my worth through someone else? Am I trying to justify the terrible heartbreak I weathered with a shiny prize in the bottom of the box?

My wise friend Paje recently said ‘don’t look for a relationship, but let a relationship emerge if there’s going to be one’. This was like a small explosion in my brain. I should not compromise or commit exclusively until I am completely sure that there is something real emerging. Something real and mutual.

So, it’s back to the foundation again. My foundation. The qualities and choices that lead me to my higher purpose; to the kind of woman I want to be. She is strong, loving, independent, wise, generous, sensual, inspiring. She wants someone who will celebrate this with her the way that her dear friends do. The way that she celebrates the wonder of the people she loves. Someone who has the space in their life to actually see her, and know her worth. Is that really possible here?

Maybe I was too hungry for this idea of a relationship. Maybe the Universe knows that I’m not ready for a relationship right now, even if I believe otherwise. Maybe it’s a bad time to eat when you’re starving because that’s when you make choices that aren’t so healthy.

It’s a gray day here, but the heat has broken. I’m moving through this Monday sifting for joy in the mundane. I feel lucky that I can work from home and spend the morning sipping amazing coffee without worrying about what I look like. I feel, for a brief moment, the sweet buzz of an excellent energy exchange the night before. I take note of the fact that the sight of my belly in this clingy dress doesn’t bother me as much as it usually does. I give thanks for the low cost of repairing my punctured tire (thanks Peninsula Tire). I’m happy for good food for lunch. There’s a coffee date with my lovely friend Kate to look forward to. Maybe I’ll buy myself a birthday dress at the outlet mall. I’ll get to see my kids later, even if it’s just for a little visit. I’ll think of my free evening as an opportunity to catch up on my studies. Don’t dwell. Keep on moving forward.

Each day I need to wake up and promise myself that my priority will be searching for the good and the beautiful. Even if the day has only tiny morsels to offer up. Can you believe, after everything I went through last year, that I would allow myself to lose sight of my worth? To lose sight of the sparkle I’ve fought so hard to recapture? It happens to the best of us, doesn’t it? We take for granted our own priorities until suddenly we don’t even feel like ourselves anymore.

Here’s a little exercise. My therapist, James McQueen taught me this one, and I revisit it again and again. James introduced me to Acceptance and Commitment therapy (or ACT) and I really love the hands-on approach to mindfulness that ACT offers:

Divide a page into four quadrants.

In the bottom right quadrant, make a list of the core values that are most important to you. Also list the people who are most important in your life. 

In the bottom left quadrant, list all of your behaviours and feelings (including self-talk phrases) that take you away from your values. 

In the top left list all of the ways that you manage any emotion or behaviour that takes you further away from these values. 

In the top right quadrant, create a list of things you can do to manage the behaviours and bring yourself closer to your core values.       
    
You can apply this exercise to life in general, to your career, to any specific relationship, or to relationship as a concept. This entire blog is a testimony to the power of writing things down when you’re trying to manifest change, and there’s real power in revisiting the words you’ve committed to the page.     

For more information about ACT, you can visit this site There’s lots of excellent free resources here too.

And so, as I launch into birthday week (I’m a Leo, we don’t just have one day) I’m on the hunt for that which I can delight in. What are some tiny things that you do to spark your own joy?                                                                                                                                                  

Was It Worth It?

My tiny apartment smells like flowers. Freesias, to be exact. They gift the most beautiful fragrance. I wake each morning to a riot of birdsong, and sometimes a light shroud of mist hovers over the tops of the trees in the ravine below my windows. I am at peace, I am filled with gratitude, and my heart is full of love.

On Wednesday, Beltane, I began university full time. A seed I planted, an investment in my future. Careful steps towards a career.

I’m back in my apartment, and though I managed just fine while I was out, I can’t tell you how good it feels to be home. I feel safe. I feel cozy. I feel like cooking, and puttering and just breathing. This is another seed; building a home for me and my children and opening that home to the people I love. 

There’s someone in my life. It’s so new, not even a full moon cycle has gone by yet. I want to preserve the space we’re building and not share too much, but if you could see me, you would see an ease that has settled across my brow and a peachy flush that with just a thought will spread from my cheeks to my navel. I am in awe of the certainty I feel, not about the future, (because I’ve learned how foolish it is to try to predict that), but in how I feel each moment. I do not want these moments to end, and this sweetness spills into every facet of my rich and rewarding life. It’s like a beautiful, flowering tree that suddenly reveals that it can also bear fruit. 

I want to eat this fruit slowly, for as long as I can.

One morning over coffee and a rainy sunrise in my apartment, this new person told me about how he would come home with various injuries as a kid, and he credits his mom with only ever saying ‘Was it worth it?’. 

Last year, my life fell apart and I was hurt in ways I couldn’t have imagined. The anniversary of that cataclysm happens this Saturday. Nine years of my life with my ex partners came to an end.

Was it worth it?

In nine years, and in the unraveling
I learned how essential it is to honour my boundaries and value my self-worth.
I learned how my behaviour impacts everyone around me.
I learned how to master my emotional response to triggers.
I learned how my childhood trauma affected my ability to be in relationship and to be a parent.
I learned how burying a truth can turn that truth into a bomb when it’s uncovered.
I learned how I love women differently than I love men.
I learned that each person in a relationship has a different experience of that relationship.
I learned that transparency and honesty are essential for me to create safety.
I learned that the best sex comes from deep emotional connection.
I learned what it feels like to want to be a better person because of those you are sharing loving space with.
I learned that I am often wrong.
I learned how dangerous denial is.
I learned humility.
I learned empathy.
I learned that alcohol and pot won’t make things better.
I learned that there is a difference between having anxiety and being in a triggered state most of the time.
I learned the wonder of my body.
I learned what a powerful and excellent mother I am.
I learned that I must constantly grow as a parent.
I learned that I am resilient.
I learned how incredible my friends and family are.
I learned that the people I built a life with for nine years are still my family.
I learned that I have spent much of my adult life afraid to accept real love.
I learned that I am ready to accept real love.

So, yes, I think it was worth it.

Our greatest lessons leave us with scrapes and gouges. We get “loose in the joints and very shabby” a la the Velveteen Rabbit. These chapters, when we feel like we are suffocating on pain, are the ones that deliver us to our higher purpose. They cure our emotional armor and strengthen the muscle that is our heart. 

I was made for love. Love is my higher purpose, and it spills into every facet of my life. My writing, my work, my relationships are all inspired by love. Love for my family, love for my sisters, love for my children, love for my partner. So I will show up, eager and in awe when I am met with energy that compliments my own. I will plant seeds and watch deep root systems grow where I am understood. I will give with abundance and accept a bounty in return when I am accepted. I will share the space within my soul when I know that I am safe.

There is nothing else more worth it in this life.

Have a listen to me on The Heather Report at 10:00 am (EST) on Sunday, May 5th. You can stream this at 4680q.ca

Nobody Told Me About This

Those of you who know me, or who have been reading these posts for a while, know that this year has been a year of recovery. I’ve learned so much about myself; what I’m capable of, what is truly important to me, what I need to feel safe and secure. I’ve built my life again from scratch. I’ve found new ways to understand myself and the people around me. I’ve even tried dating again, sort of.

There was a lovely relationship that happened too soon.

There were several wonderful and exciting people who didn’t quite fit.

And now, well…I’m not exactly sure what is happening now. It could be a brief glimpse of exactly the kind of connecting I want. It could be a longer, sweeter taste of the kind of connecting I want. It’s far too soon to know anything beyond how very different this feels. It feels safe, and good, and like stepping into a warm bath after an exhausting day. However long it will last, I’m grateful for this feeling, because I’m reminded that it’s possible.

But oh, what stuff this Is unearthing.

Just when I thought I’d resolved as much as I could, processed and unpacked what I needed to. Just when I thought I knew what to do to feel the ways I want to feel, the universe throws this new potential at me, and my subconscious has some surprises in store. I suppose I’m not actually surprised. After so much hurt, romantic vulnerability is justifiably scary. I look at that warm bath and feel relief. My subconscious thinks I could be stepping into lava. You can imagine the internal battle that ensues.

Would more time make this easier? Perhaps, but it could also create a wall so high that climbing it might feel impossible. And let’s not ignore the fact that the mysterious universe has delivered this radiant and wonderful person at this particular moment in time. If I’m going to occupy real heart space with someone, it’s not always going to be smooth. Trust is a real tricky thing for me, and I will need both the right person to build it with, and the self-awareness to separate my own insecurities from the truth that is unfolding before me.

I’m going to need someone who is patient, and not annoyed by having to offer reassurance. I’m going to need to first sort through the swirling mass that sometimes occupies my brain and heart space in my journal, before I bring it to the table. I’m going to need to stay in the present and see what is actually happening, rather than listening to my fear.

Does that sound like a lot of work? Perhaps it is, but it’s necessary, and the outcome is greater strength and command of my own heart and head. And I believe, down to the very tips of my toes, that with the right person, it won’t feel like work at all.

So whatever this is, let it unfold as it should; carefully and consciously. Let me trust in face value and gut feelings. Let me understand that there are two separate experiences of this shared space, each of value, and each with a unique set of needs. Let me trust myself to be brave enough to delight in this the way that I deserve to, for as long as it exists in my life. 

The next time I build a home, it’s going to have a strong foundation.

Try With Me

I started out the month of April deciding I would try to be celibate for 30 days. Things on the romantic front were more stressful than pleasurable. Worry and confusion about dynamics and intentions had taken over my brain in ways I didn’t like. I needed a reset before launching into Spring. I made it exactly two weeks, but in that time, I realized a few important things:

I can’t do casual sex. Maybe if I connect with someone once and then decide it’s best to keep it friendly and take sex off the table, it remains casual. Beyond that, I develop feelings. There’s nothing wrong with this of course, and lighthearted sexual fun will continue to have its time and place in my life, but I know to avoid trying to build space with people who prefer casual arrangements.

I’m getting really good at letting go of connections and relationships that challenge my boundaries in an unhealthy way. I’ve been clear and kind while telling people that the timing isn’t right, or that the chemistry isn’t working, or that I want something deeper.

In the past, I’ve tried to make pieces fit, or make concessions, and these relationships always end with me feeling hurt and mistrustful. I trust myself to choose well. I trust my intuition to illuminate things I should see while deciding whether or not to create space for someone.

Nobody is perfect. The later we are into adulthood, the more hurt and complexity we all carry around with us. It’s impossible to meet people without baggage. I think the key lies in choosing people whose luggage compliments your own. Our life experiences can create strength and support for someone else. These lessons help refine our awareness of what we need.

I’m deeply drawn to seekers who strive to understand their own minds and hearts. People who want to be better, and who want to live deeply in their emotions. Those people are going to be the ones who will at least try to weather the storms with their partner.

I am ambiamorous. This is a new term in the lexicon of loving that I discovered recently. Someone who is ambiamorous is equally as comfortable in a polyamorous relationship as they are in a monogamous relationship. If they meet a partner who is poly, they feel good about exploring that. If love leads them to someone with monogamous leanings, they can exist this way too. So, if y’all were looking to slap some labels on me, please make sure this one is included. (I’m a queer, cis, pagan, single mom, ambiamorous femme)

I thought I knew exactly what I wanted in the bedroom. I did not. If you’d asked me in March what my ideal partner could bring to the party when it comes to sex, I would have said something like, “I need someone who will lovingly dominate me and explore some kink with me”. Or, “I need a horned god who will worship me like a goddess and I will return this adoration”.

Recently, I had a revelation. I became aware of the affectations I carry into new sexual space, and was rather stunned by this. I thought I was genuine, but I think it was bravado. Now, I want someone who I can arrive with in sexual space and be entirely open; free of preset ideas around what I need, ready to discover what that moment, and that shared energy reveals. I want someone who will meet me at the fire, take my hand and walk with me through it to the other side, grounded and present, and ready to explore any place we desire.

It’s okay to be scared. I’ve been through a lot, and I don’t mean over the course of this last year. It’s hard for me to trust romantic partners. It’s scary for me to believe that they are sincere and invested in building something real with me. It makes complete sense that I’d be afraid to be vulnerable again, but I don’t think this means I’m not ready to try.

According to certain psychological frameworks, I’m an anxious attached person. This means I need reassurance. I may get emotional/weepy when it feels really connected and real. I will still have my own world of interests and things to do, so I’m not worried about being clingy, but I will need to be reminded with words and gestures of how cherished I am. I give a lot of that sort of thing, so I don’t think it’s a big ask. I need to know I’m safe.

The right person will understand this and will be okay with holding my hand until we’re through the forest of newness and uncertainty.

It’s okay to wait. Or not. I don’t know if we’re all like this, but there comes a time in the getting to know a potential lover when I really must know how physically compatible we are. I love good chemistry, and usually if it’s strong while everyone’s clothes are on, it continues to be strong in other circumstances. However, there are those occasions when this is not the case, and this disconnect continues to happen beyond that ‘first time’ which is often a little awkward and a tad uncertain. It’s okay to let that chemistry build before you see how it translates to naked time, but it’s also okay to arrive at naked time sooner rather than later in the interest of researching an investment.

I can ask for what I need. I’ve been seeing someone for a few months who I’m quite fond of. It’s low key, and he was really clear on his own capacity for relationship. We aren’t looking for the same thing, ultimately, but I enjoy his company and he’s become a dear friend. Before I declared my sexual hiatus, I asked him for two very specific things if we are to resume that aspect of our relationship. How I follow through with this will reflect how well I honor my boundaries. Those boundaries, I realize, are everything. They are subject to shifting, and changing, but when I know they are firm I cannot ignore them because they help me create the safety I deserve.

Emotional safety is everything. What do I mean by emotional safety? I mean that I know I can trust my partner. I can lean into them when I need care and support. That I believe in my bones they are on my team and have my best interests in mind. That they will share their own inner world and their struggles with me. That they won’t be afraid to let me know who they are and what they need. That I can be exactly who I am and be loved for all that I have to offer, PLUS all that I have to work through. That I will work hard to be worthy of their love, by being as authentic and vulnerable as I can be, while trusting that they are doing the same.

The early stages should be fun. This period of discovering another person should be wondrous, and delightful. The only thing that should cause tension is the anticipation of that next moment. It should feel like forward motion, and delicious curiosity. It should be a slow burn until both parties are truly sure they want to sink deeper. It should not include anxiously fretting over where you stand, wondering why you have a weird feeling about the other person, wanting more and not being met, or reading text messages obsessively to try to decipher what is actually being said.

On Sunday I had brunch with my darling cousin Alex. How I love to talk with her. We discussed how each of us has our own mountain of stuff to deal with, and how life throws all kinds of things at us. How building relationship can really illuminate complex pieces of who we are. We agreed that at the end of the day, all we can really hope for is someone who will try. Try to create a home, with loving space to share. Try to face the hurdles together. Try to build each other up and see each other realize our dreams. Try to understand and offer loving support when the other person is struggling. Try, and keep trying because it’s a safe place to try. 

Not bad for two weeks, right? I mean, these things were already percolating in there, but there was suddenly more space for me to see what was swirling around. It’s like watching the stars sometimes, these little flashes that twinkle around in my brain.

This kind of clarity seemed sharper when I removed an element that was creating more of an energy drain than any kind of positive force. So much of my identity is tied to understanding sexuality, which I won’t apologize for, but it was kind of amazing to see what happened when I shifted that energy back into myself instead of out into the world.

Sometimes a great, big, inhale is all we need.