Let's chat Animö with Carö

The lunchbox I have had since kindergarten. It is at least 45 years old. I still fondly remember my parents getting it for me after I chose it in a store in Florida. Among the many things I didn't give much thought about during the first half of my adolescence, in addition to my clothing or hairstyle, but wish I had, was what I (or my brave mother) put in my lunchbox. Like others in my household and many people in the 70s and 80s, I had this very primitive binary view of food: it either had a pleasant taste or it was repulsive. The choice would therefore be guided by this sometimes risky approach: ingesting the former as much as possible and avoid the latter. It didn't matter if the tasty was highly artificial, processed food. I had a phase in elementary school when I would spurt ketchup on every meal. I also loved the mac and cheese with super surreal orange powder. Soft drinks were ubiquitous (I can still remember the smell of the basement at my maternal grandparents when we ...

  When I was a kid in elementary school, the word bullying (or a French translation, such as "harcèlement", "intimidation" or "taxage") was not common use. Yet, the experience was very real, and no less unpleasant or humiliating. In the 1980s, I once was that girl with pig tails (we called them "lulus" in my native French). A guy I barely knew seemed to have decided it was funny to pull them. Not clear why he picked on me. I remember being startled, but not sure how else I reacted. I probably froze. There were other few such incidents, when another boy (or maybe it was the same, I cannot remember... this is what trauma does to your brain, you forget details of a disturbing situation) had violently pressed a piece of crumbled paper on my butt while I was walking to school. Again, I felt disturbed, humiliated, and couldn't comprehend why someone would do such an intrusive, violent and obnoxious thing. My younger sister was more extraverted than...

  Hi, you. How has your week been so far ? Maybe you hate today because no one is asking you out (which you erroneously interpret as a proof of non-attractiveness), you are having a bad hair day, you got a C- in algebra, or a medium-size pustule on your nose before your summer job interview, your best friend is now ghosting you, you are addicted to "likes" on social media, you messed up or broke a rule and are afraid to tell your parents, or you lost (it happened to me too many times...) your favorite t-shirt (or the red sweater your mom put in the washer with it bled over it and now it is candy pink... a version of that also happened to me). It doesn't matter to me. I accept you. Right this moment. Because I have learned to also accept and embrace myself completely, flaws and all (not so long ago in fact... but there is no reason for you to wait that long. As you seek support from trusted person and confess whatever mistake is tormenting you, you can start finding things...