And here's to a strong woman.

When I mention my mom, I explain that I am who I am, because she is who she is; I mean this in both ends of the axis: from the generous spirit that surrounds my soul to all that crazy that I produce. She has a relaxed, vivacious personality and a carefree and boisterous lifestyle, where for me, I am an utmost planner (until I throw all caution to the wind and decide to just get that tattoo in Asia) and stress seems to be the glue that holds me together. 

I seemed to have inherited her good parts, too, including her kindness. My mom volunteers at countless organizations. From helping out at marathons, theater productions and volunteering by teaching children with physical disabilities to ski, to welcoming anyone and everyone over for cinnamon buns, dinners, providing a room to spend the night, even a house to live in, my mom is as caring as they come.

She’s also very opinionated and won’t hesitate to rock the boat, on very important things and sometimes, just to cause a scene. When she picked me up from my flight from Peru, she had a full blown yelling match with the parking company that dinged (quite badly actually) her car. This scene was something I’ve seen in my childhood on several occasions: a lady refusing to take shit from anyone. Jet-lagged with a bacterial infection, I simply smiled shook my head at the office match. The end result was her very bluntly posting about the company and her respected car on Facebook. Needless to say, her car got fixed.

She’s an independent woman with a respectable job, happily working alongside men and, she owes a lovely house, all on her very own. This wasn’t always the case, and she’s flourished through the ashes, it seems, as only Carolynn would. Though there will always be some struggles, she’s successfully been without a companion to financially support her. She’s the reason why I’m such an advocate for Economic Feminism: Inequality comes from having to rely on a their partner, financially. Hell, she’s the reason why I’m a feminist at all.

My mum and I have had our disagreements, to be sure. All three of us girls have. But mum, you can’t raise three girls to be strong, independent women and then get angry when they don’t agree with your opinions. The thing about her is, you never wonder what she’s thinking. I say this about my Sister, Shawna, all the time but in truth she’s gets it from my mom. I’d expect anyone to take that as a complement.

My sisters and I rely on each other for moral support if we’re battling it out with our very vocal, self-assured mother. We sometimes joke about getting the case of the CC’s (Crazy Carolynn’s) when we verbally explode on someone. Never piss off a McNeil (Ziegler) Girl, we smirk. But seriously. 

Ultimately, it was my mum who let me move in with her so I could pull myself back together. I think I’ve moved back in with her at least three times and counting (Hello February, 2017). And, when I was waking up with work sweats at four in the morning making lists of what must be done the next day at my dreadful job in the Kootneys, it was my mom who said, "It's time, time to go traveling". And, it’ll be her watching her Grand-Dog for four months while I put adulating on pause next month.

I wouldn’t be who I am today without watching her shamelessly be who she is. My mom tells me that she’s proud the life I’ve chosen, but really it’s mutual. I’m so proud of the life that she’s built and chosen to live so freely.

Kindly,

Kirstin

Shit, have you told mum? - Shawna, Megan, Kirstin.