On the 23 Women Who Inspire Me

Nico writes a list of 29 women who have shaped his life. A woman for every year of his life. These are women who helped him grow, who gave him love, taught love. "An ode to the women that taught me how to love." 

Inspired by Nico, I wrote a list of 22 men who have been storms in my life. They are men who have taught me strength and resilience, courage and recklessness. They are men who have built me and broke me. Encouraged me and forced me to grow.

Men and masculinity are so often thought of in violent, active terms. Men are not quiet. They are not soft or tender. Masculinity represents strength and aggression. They are forceful and hard. They are the storms of my life. Storms are beautiful, and they're necessary. When we are broken, we grow. But when we are whole, we also grow. The women in my life have made me whole.

If men are storms, then women are oceans. Women are the oceans that will always look clear, that will always fold back to envelop. They are the calm and powerful. They refresh and renew. They erode and demolish. Women are the calm you envision, but the strength and true, sheer durability that you sometimes forget. It is women and femininity that is uplifting and grounding. Soothing and paralyzing. So, a woman for every year of my life.

To my mother, Janny, who is everything that supports, nurtures and cripples me. Mom is constant love, sacrifice, care and attention. Mom is constant worry, expectation, and hope. Mom is always, always and will forever be home. I don't have words to express the importance of my mother in my story, my upbringing, my life, my values. Everything. Mom, I know I wasn't an easy child. I'm not an easy person- always an underlying illness even when I wasn't sick, a selfish child, a lonely child, someone caught up in her own world. I think you've done so well with me though. You've worked so hard. Thank you for that. Thank you for always trying to support me. You're the first person I want to share my excitement with, and the person I never want to disappoint.

To my aunt, Lisa, who has always been the symbol of fun and adventure. A kind of carefree. You've always had a story to tell, always a smile to share. Always there to listen to my stories, and to encourage them.

To my grandmother, Yuk Mui, someone who has seen too much of the world, its brilliance and its terror. My grandmother who was a child living through the Sino-Japanese War. My grandmother who travelled across the world to start a life where she truly knew no one and nothing. My grandmother who kept going, continues to keep going. On the other side of the coin, my grandmother who braved the world and never forgot its horrors and chaos. My grandmother who never forgave the world for the sadness it caused her. My grandmother who never got over the anger and an entitlement to something better. My grandmother who is relentless, but scared of death, scared of quiet. My grandmother is part of a world I will never understand, but maybe it's for that I should thank her endlessly.

To my best friend, Ellen, who is more of a sister than she is a friend. Ellen, who I have known since I was a year and a half and she was born. Ellen, who I talk to almost daily. Who I'm not afraid of exposing myself to; my secrets, vulnerabilities, flaws and mostly, my inconsistencies. In so many ways, we are so different but in so many ways, we are also the same. If I was to fall, you are what ties me to the Earth. You keep me grounded, truthful and accountable. I don't know where to begin or where to end when it comes to you, or us. I think you're how I stay together. Thanks for understanding. Thanks so much for understanding more than anyone can or ever will.

To Amma, who has been the best mentor and friend. Thank you for being a presence in my life, for you've always, always been such a positive influence. I think beyond our old school, career and boy talks, the thing that stood out the most was how bright you are as a person. You radiate so much light and so much kindness. So much goodness. I cannot wait to see you at your wedding, and I cannot wait for all the happiness that life, as you said before, will bring. That's the best thing you taught me - to look forward.

To Charlotte, who I ask about all things in life. Love, health, friendship, biology, things on the Internet, drugs, everything. I remember talking to you for the first time on that walk to the football game, and then sitting in your room till 3 o'clock in the morning that same day with Chris. We then spent so much of our time at Queen's together. We lived together for three years, basically four. You've seen me do some stupid things. You've seen me naked. You've seen me at some of my best and my absolute worst. And vice versa. We've done some fun things together, some boring things together, and everything in between. It's funny how things work out that way. I really don't know where I'd be without you the past 5 or so years. I see you so much and often as my voice of reason, and kinda my lifeline. I don't know how to express all of that without being cheesy... You're great. Actually, in your words, you're perfect.

To Mishi, who I shared almost every single dumb and drunk and fun adventure with in my four years at Queen's. My fellow Sagittarius who always sought a little adventure, always willing to do something, always willing to play the odds a little. When I think of us, I think of drunkenly walking down Kingston streets late at night. I think of laying in your bed and falling asleep while doing nothing at all. I think of all your weird meal combinations. I think of someone who makes me laugh, who makes me feel so cared for and loved. I think of tequila shots. When I think of us, I think of shouting to you in the next room. To be honest, I can't really think of those four years of my life without you in every frame. 

To Evasha, my first roommate. Maybe it's because we were roommates and at such a critical part of my life thus far, having you in my life feels like such a sense of security. You're always there to listen, without judgement. Or not, because you also throw in some of the shadiest comments. That's one of the things I miss a lot about you and Kingston- it's the regular everyday chats. It's swapping stories and anecdotes and that was us.

To Sarah. From the very first week of Queen's to now, it is so strange and lovely to see how our friendship has manifested. You are the sweetest, kindest, most generous person and I am so happy and lucky to have you in my life. Honestly, you bring such happiness and joy to my life. I miss you. I miss our time together. I miss hanging out - whether it is at the mall, in the library or just sharing a nap in my room. We always did have fun.

To Jenny, who I always saw as my cooler older sister. I have and continue to so admire you for the way you are, the way you have always been and continue to be. You are so fearlessly yourself, so fiercely and unapologetically independent. You have always had such clarity in how you approach life. I always aspired to be like you in that way. I know we don't see each other that often, but when we do, things feel so natural. They feel like an old piece of home. Even in the way that our friendship continues, I feel that kind of steady confidence that you've always exuded.

To my cousin, Michelle, who faces the world with a kind of bravery and independence and attitude. No one quite does it like Michelle, is what I always thought growing up. I like the way you've always approached the things in your life. You never backed down from what you wanted. You've always demanded a certain level of respect. I love that. I think this about you, is going to make you an amazing mother. I already see it. 

To Kelly, who I lost before I learned how to say sorry, before I learned how to put aside my pride and admit to my own anger. I'm sorry I never said I was wrong. I'm sorry I was angry and I took it out on you, on something that was never your fault and entirely my own. You were an amazing friend, and you saw me in a much kinder light than I deserved.

To Henrieta, the one I discuss everything big with. The one who challenged me intellectually, the one who demanded me to go further creatively. I remember our drawing sessions where we spent as much time discussing politics, philosophy, culture, life, art as we did any art. I think this was an important part of my life in Kingston. I needed someone who understood and sought after all those parts of life. No one else does adventure or living quite like you.

To Jennifer, who I shared so much of my growing up with. Who I used to sit by the skatepark with, making up stories for the boys, making up stories for the rest of our lives. You are a part of so many of my stories and so many of my memories. An undeniable part of my teens and also my young adulthood. I think the most significant thing to say, is that you were part of my discovery. The discovery of myself, of people, of culture, of adventure, of alcohol, of boys. Also, you're one hell of a muse.

To my first and second grade teacher, Ms. Brown. I think I will always remember you as the sweetest, most caring teacher I will ever have the absolute pleasure to meet. Years later, thinking back to some of the things you did for us, it is so easy to see how well suited you were to teaching young children. Their first encounter with the outside world. Thank you for showing this frightened child so much kindness, for encouraging her as much as you did. I still journal all the time. Thank you for giving me that.

To Nefisa, the girl who will change the world. I really believe that. You've always been so brilliant. The way you see the world and the tireless way you work. You're always someone I look up to, always someone who I can count on for support. Also, always someone who can make me laugh and open up a little more to the world.

To Danielle, who I have to thank for so many amazing opportunities. This program and your guidance was pivotal in how I see the world, how I know the world today. I know how lucky I am to have been part of this program. It offered us so many connections that we wouldn't have had otherwise. It helped me learn about the world, and the possibilities that I haven't seen before. You were at the centre of all that. You worked so tirelessly for us to get all of that. You also went above and beyond. It's really like family. I'll always see it as family.

To Auntie Tunnie, my mom's best friend and my babysitter as a little babe. In my own world, what is really my world and the people in it, you are who I always thought of as so much wisdom. A gentle, kind and patient wisdom. Someone who is humble. I adore you. I always have, even as a kid. I continue to now, and I think it's still so obvious. Maybe embarrassingly so. Your daughter is wonderful too. It's so eye opening seeing how she's growing up. When she was little, she reminded me so much of myself but as she's growing, I can see how wonderful she is on her own. She's going to do wonderful things, and I'm sure it's because of your presence. 

To Patty, my middle school best friend. I remember continuously walking the track during lunch breaks. I remember discussing boys over the phone. I remember the crying as we discussed the boys. I remember the first touch of teenage emotion, angst, drama; the vindictiveness of it all. Before 13-year-olds were ever cool, there was us and the way we saw the world that was too simple and too complicated. You were a simpler period of my life, but also when things became so much more complicated. 

To Erline and Kaley. I once read about the people you invite to your wedding. I'm not getting married any time soon, but the article suggested that you invite new friends as well as your really old friends. New friends who have the potential to stay in your life, shape your life; who you really enjoy having in your life. I always say that my coworkers at Starbucks are the sweetest people. You guys are that. But beyond that and our shared interests, it is also the discussions we have when we're together. It's so enlightening the way you guys see the world because of our different experiences growing up and existing in the world. This is always precious. We are bonded by mutual annoyances and interests, strengthened by food and the way we talk about life, learn about life and all its nuances.

To my yoga teacher, Krista, who sees the world in a way I want to learn. A world I want to be a part of. For me, Krista encourages a kind of juxtaposition in life so easily forgotten. I'm asked to push my body in ways I'm not used to, to challenge the pain and discomfort in my body that I so easily shy away from. I've always been told my body is a fragile thing and I can never be too careful with it. Here, I'm told to challenge. To respect my body, but to challenge it. I'm told of the power and strength of my body instead of its fragility. I'm told to play instead of staying in the shadows.

And finally to Hanna, who I have never met but write to, both in letters to her and in the back of my mind. Hanna, who is beautiful in the way she holds herself, the way she encounters the world, the way she lets the world encounter her. Hanna, I could lose and have lost myself in your words. I've also found myself and continue to find myself in your words too. Truly the embodiment of a force of nature. 

I wrote saying that a list of women would be easier to write. Women have always been there to inspire me, encourage me, support me. Women have always been there to protect and care for me in a way that the men in my life never have. Women, who have always served as the beacons of beauty, grace, kindness in my life. I'm not sure where I will be without them. I'm not sure how I will be without them. Women are everything. The past, present and future. Always existing and present.