Tag Archive | reflection

Hugh and I: A love story.

I was 11 years old. In the clutches of puberty. Boys were starting to look like more than worthy playmates. Everything hurt.  Then, I discovered a book by chance in the library.

It was an encyclopedia about x-men.

I was enamored. I became obsessed with x-men. I bought comics for the first time ever. I went to the store with my little allowance and bought both movies.

I was watching them, innocently enjoying the fight scenes and the social comment, and then I saw him.

The most beautiful man I had ever seen.



My little mind was blown open as hormones I didn’t understand flooded my brain. I was hopelessly naïve then, and hadn’t the first clue about reproduction, but I wanted to kiss that man senseless. I watched the x-men movies over and over, and devoured the behind the scenes features. The more I watched Hugh Jackman, the more my feelings grew from a simple pre-lust to full on love. Or whatever the twelve year old equivalent of that is.

He was funny, he was Australian, and he was so kind. He could dance (this was very important to me) He was articulate and beautiful and very, very married.


And it was then that I knew heartache for the first time.

However, the fact that he was married and the fact that he was old enough to be my father did not deter me. I was head over heels in love with Hugh Jackman, and I still am.


Some fun facts about Hugh: he owns a tea shop. He had a one man Broadway show. He visits hospitals in cities he’s filming in. his eye colour is hazel, and he was born in 1968. He’s 6’1. He’s a Libra. He apologised to his fans on twitter and Facebook for not posting much, and proceeded to post more after that.

I don’t actually know Hugh, but I feel like I do. I’ve seen enough pictures of him in various stages of undress, after all. Not intentionally. Most of the time.

I’ve even had boyfriends get jealous of my love for Hugh.

Hugh and I are very alike. We both love little dogs. We both share the same sign. We both enjoy volunteering in hospitals. Our parents are accountants. We both have hazel eyes (his are almost as beautiful as mine). I like tea.

When it was announced that Hugh had skin cancer, my heart broke into a million pieces. It came on the heels of my grandfather dying of cancer. I was devastated. I realised after his death that one can’t keep their feelings inside forever. One must learn to share their feelings now, before it’s too late. Hugh has long since recovered, of course, but the idea of writing him a fan  letter turned over and over in my head.

So I wound up writing a letter to Hugh, but I decided that I had to share my love! Everyone must know of the greatness of this man (and my insanity).

If Hugh Jackman is reading this, I have this to say to you; Hugh, marry me. I’m good with being a 2nd wife and cleaning the house.

For everyone else: please don’t call the cops. I swear I’m not a stalker. A bit deluded, maybe. One day this will probably fade, but for now? I’m sharing my first experience with love, lust and tea shops.


On Pride.

Hi, my name is Kelsey. I’m a writer, blogger, pescatarian, Catholic, Canadian, dog owner and bisexual.

I realised the other day that it’s LGBT pride month in June. I also realised that I’ve never written anything on here about my sexuality.

Honestly, being bisexual isn’t a huge part of my life. It’s not because I’m ashamed of it. It’s just something I am. Unlike being Christian, I don’t have to work at being bisexual. I wake up in the morning and it is.

I never got the “pride” movement until recently. I had no strong feelings either way. It existed. The parades were fun to watch.

Then, the first time I talked to someone involved in the LGBT community, they told me bisexuals weren’t welcome.

Then, the Christians in the Christian club at school gave me dirty looks.

Then, I stopped going into changerooms to avoid the glares.

Then, I had to explain to someone why there is no such thing as a straight pride parade.

The first time I wrote a love poem about a girl I was afraid to show it to anyone and pretended it was about a boy.

I realised something.

Pride movements and pride parades exist because the world decided that LGBT people weren’t allowed to be proud of who they were. The reason I listed all those things I am to begin this post is because, for the most part, the world tells me that even though my sexuality is a small part of my life I am not allowed to be proud of everything else I am because of it. There are people in the world who would ignore everything else and kill me for being bisexual. That’s why this is a big deal.

So here’s an answer for the straight girl who asked me why there isn’t a straight pride parade. Straight people are allowed to be proud. They are told every day that the way they are is the right way. LGBT people are told every day that they are freaks, or sinners, or abominations. That they should die. The suicide rate of LGBT people is significantly higher than that of straight people. We have to tell ourselves to be proud because no one else will. No one else does.

Parades and pride months are our reminders to the world that no one will ever take our pride from us.


God bless,

Kelsey J.


PS: Sorry this is a day late! I was called in unexpectedly to my job. Not that I don’t consider this a job, but the other one pays me. 


PSS: Did you know an LGBT publishing group was the on of the first to publish my work? Check them out here: http://newtownwriters.org/




Things men need to hear.

Hi there men.

My name is Kelsey.

I am not a man.

I am a woman.

Some of you are immediately going to think less of me for that last statement. Some of you are going to dismiss my opinion. That’s not okay, but I ask you to just listen to me for five minutes.

Before I begin, I know a lot of you are going to think throughout this that I’m over reacting, and that not all men are like this.

Tough tits.

Because enough men are that I feel I have to say this. And, if you’re as sick of them as I am, listen to me.

No one is entitled to shit.

It’s hard to hear. But it’s the truth. No one is entitled to anything beyond human rights. You aren’t entitled to a fancy car because you know how to drive, you aren’t entitled to book because you know how to read, and you’re not entitled to another person’s body. Ever.

Being kind to someone does not entitle you to their body.

Being in a relationship with someone does not entitle you to their body.

Thinking someone is attractive does not entitle you to their body.

Telling that person that they are attractive does not entitle you to their attention.

Being more physically imposing than others does not entitle you to whatever you want.

I understand loneliness. I understand rejection. I understand feeling like no one will ever love you and not understanding why.

It hurts.

But that doesn’t mean that you are entitled to hurt someone else.

Maybe no one told you that someone not wanting to date you wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe no one told you that you were special just for being you. And that’s not okay.

But expecting others to “pay” for that is not okay either.

You may be thinking “where does this stupid bitch get off?” or “Look, another feminazi.”Whatever. The point isn’t me. The point is you.

You aren’t owed shit.

The world doesn’t owe you shit.

Life doesn’t owe you shit.





Guess what? Life doesn’t owe anyone shit. It’s the way it works. It’s cliché, but life isn’t fair.

Especially not to women.

Admitting that there are problems in the world specific to women doesn’t make your problems less important. Admitting that men cause a lot of these problems doesn’t make you bad for being a man.

Not all men are mass murderers and rapists. It’s okay to feel sorry for people who hurt so much that they hurt lots of people to deal with it. But what they did is not okay. And saying that “not all men” do this is minimizing that some do.

Men are just as likely to be killed by men as women are. We’re in this boat together. Not all men do these terrible things, but the ones that do hurt all of us.

So hi there men. My name is Kelsey. I’m a human. So are you. Let’s work together to make the world safe for all of us.



Hymns for the Bastards: Three.

I wore sick like a badge of honour

I don’t heal,

I just scab over.

My soul is a mess of congealing blood

Dripping dripping.

I feel you in here like a parasite

And still I feed you.

This is true sickness.

I fear you will burst out of me

Instead of passing with the waste,

Coating everything in sight

With yesterday’s feelings.

Language Moment: May 12th, 2014

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Welcome to a new feature on Sweetly Snobbish–the site where I’m always right, but at least I’m nice!

This new feature was actually given to me by my english professor and fellow poet Gerald Hill. Kind of. In his class, we had language moments, where we pointed out interesting turns of phrase. Now, it’s going on my blog.

This week’s language moment comes from the Anberlin song, “Reclusion“.

There are a lot of really neat language moments in this song, so I’m just going to pick my three favourites.

“They don’t know they’re dead to me cuz/intent never makes a sound” 

I love “intent never makes a sound”.  I think it’s a unique turn of phrase. Right off the bat, this line establishes the loneliness and isolation of the speaker, as well as their inner darkness.

“There’s a lot of seclusion/production in depression/if a stranger turns up missing/this song is my confession”

Wow. That stuff I already said? Turn that up to 11 in these lines. In this like, the fact that the speaker kills people is very, very clear. It also speaks to mental instability.  Maybe I’m just biased, though, because of the “production in depression” line. Depressed people gotta stick together.

My absolute FAVOURITE language moment, though?

“My mask is growing heavy/but I’ve forgotten whose beneath” 

I just adore this. I find this turn of phrase so powerful.  I love the simplicity in the statement and yet the power in it. It really points to true instability in the speaker, and adds an element of tragedy to the song.

This has been the first edition of “language moments”. Like? Don’t like? Tell me below!

God Bless,

Kelsey J.

Hymns for the Bastards: Two.


He claimed to be a fan of horror

But he clearly hadn’t watched enough films to know that

If you create a monster

Don’t be surprised

If it turns around


I’m ready for my close-up now, baby.

Slathered in makeup so thick you could cut me with a knife and find no soul underneath.

I’ve forgotten who the mask is,

Me, you or the camera.

Hymns for the Bastards: One.


And I told him that he pushed me over

But I was already at the edge

Looking down at sharpened waters

Leaving claw marks on the shores

He told me I only broke your heart to give you reason to bleed

I’m on the bed where you wanted me baby

There’s enough of me left

To give you something to stick it into.