The Wellness Bitch

There’s a lot of discussion and griping about how wellness is only for the wealthy.

That the poor are so desperate to feed their families, that they have no other choice than to buy cheap imitation grape drink and Dollar Store brand cheese doodles. That the poor don’t have the benefit of spending time in Barnes and Noble browsing through Michael Pollan books. That the poor are so tired from working two jobs that they can’t summon up the strength to do more than throw some canned franks and beans into a pot to warm.

I’d like to know how those people– those compassionate champions of the working poor — how do they explain it when middle class Americans…or even upper class americans with nannies and luxury cars …make those same choices? Because they do. I see it all the time.

I walk into a $1 million home to pick up my kid from a playdate and find him eating rainbow goldfish crackers.

I see nannies pushing overweight kids in stroller. And moms in designer shoes handing their two-year-olds mocha frappaccinos to sip on.

I’m not a cold-hearted bitch. But I don’t think eating or living well really takes much money, brains, or higher education. Clearly, if that’s all it took, we wouldn’t be seeing commercials for Abilify, alongside ones for Macy’s One Day Sale.

Hey. Come a little closer. I’m going to let you in on a little secret.

I’m not rich. I put on a good show with my nice house and leased mini-van. My kids in their hand-me-down Old Navy clothes. My mock designer hand bag from Target.

But we’re struggling. We have debt. We count our pennies.

I don’t have the money for a gym membership or a trainer or even to go to weekly yoga classes. I take books out of the library or buy them second hand on Ebay.

But don’t cry for me. And don’t think I’m complaining that my life is so hard.

But, I think that bad lifestyle choices aren’t reserved for the poor.

And it’s about time we stop having that conversation and move on. Frankly, it bores me.

Your sympathy and your outrage would be better spent WAKING UP our government. And our schools. And your neighbors.

I can’t resist a good 80s reference.

Now, when B.A. Baracus said “I pity the fool,” he usually meant he was gonna unleash a great big can of whoop-ass on whichever “fool” messed with his car or kidnapped Face. Not much pity there.

But I really do pity the fool. And by fool, I don’t mean idiot. I mean a person who might not know better.

I keep meeting people who are exposed to toxins through their work and I wonder (a) if they know they are poisoning themselves by handling these toxins and (b) should I tell them?

Tobi Indyke, a talented artist, just guest blogged on Mindful Living NJ today about her experience getting ill from 18 years working with petro-chemicals and paints. I think about how lucky she is she lived through the experience. And wished that someone could have told her sooner what was happening to her body in response to the chemicals she was handling every day.

Yesterday, I got my haircut at the salon I should have left three years ago, but haven’t because I love my stylist. I noticed the swollen, red hands of the regular hair washer and frowned. Imagine how many heads she handles each day? Applying toxic chemicals with her bare hands no less.

There are the workers in the meat and poultry factory getting lung cancer from being in closed rooms with the ammonia they wash the meat with. (Don’t believe me? Watch Food Inc.)

And what about the farmers and the children of farmers handling and working in pesticide-laden fields?

Uch. The worst work hazard I have to deal with every day is carpal tunnel, which is nothing to sneeze at, I know, but in comparison seems wimpy.

Who’s going to rescue these folks from a “crime they did not commit?”

If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find her, maybe you can hire… The Wellness Bitch.

Why do some of the holistic practitioners I know still use antibacterial or heavily fragranced soap in their bathrooms? Why are they using Clorox wipes to clean their counters? Why do their floors smell like they were just mopped with SYNTHETIC LEMON SMELLING TOXIC CHEMICALS?!?!?

Ok. Not all of you are doing this. Some of you have got it right. Both of the places in which I practice yoga have got it right (green-friendly hand soap!) My integrative pediatrician’s got it right (green office!) And those of you who sell green cleaning products on the side have probably got it right. But some of you need to do a little tweaking.

Don’t be too embarassed. I understand you probably just didn’t think about it before now.  But know this: I want to keep coming to see you, but when I do, I have to decide between washing my hands and BREATHING!!!!

Oh…and one more thing. Sometimes therapeutic essential oils are not much better for people who are very sensitive. Please keep this in mind as you are treating those of us who are trying desperately to avoid living in a bubble.

Thank you. Rant over.

For those of you who don’t know, I have a day job. I’m the founder of an organization called Mindful Living NJ, and I do a lot of the same work over there that I do here. Attempt to educate and empower people to make healthy, holistic choices.

For a while, I was blogging only as “Mindful Girl.” A like-minded, yet understated version of The Wellness Bitch, Mindful Girl attempts to change minds with information, reason, and compassion. I’m her. And she’s me. 

The Wellness Bitch was born of my innate need to scream in people’s faces. Because as good as I’ve gotten at sublimating my rage,  it still lurks deep within my petite, inconspicuous exterior.

Mindful Girl doesn’t scream. She nudges. She intimates. She chants. She cheers. The Wellness Bitch, as you know, takes no prisoners.

So, I have mixed feelings when I see the mainstream media reporting on “news” that those of us in the know have been discussing for years. When my college roommate and lil bitch Linnea posted this article from MSNBC.com on her Facebook status today– “Pesticides in kids linked to ADHD” –I chuckled.

Mindful Girl jumps up and down, cheering that our message will finally make it onto the desktop of Average Joe. Wellness Bitch, on the otherhand, snorts at the fact that MSNBC.com reports this as if it’s “just in.” A more accurate headline to this article would be “My Editor Finally Let Me Write This Story About The Connection Between Pesticides and ADHD Because Our Medical Advisory Board Approved the Study.”

Kudos to health writer JoNel Allecia for doing her part to educate the public. But her first sentence suggests she’s still unsure or answering to someone. “Exposure to pesticides used on common kid-friendly foods — including frozen blueberries, fresh strawberries and celery — appears to boost the chances that children will be diagnosed with ADHD,” she writes. (Emphasis is mine.) Really? We can’t just use the verb “boosts?” We have to soften it with “appears?” What’s the point of backing your story up with a scientific study if the credibility it lends doesn’t even allow you to use a nice active, direct verb? Jesus Christ, people! Grow a pair of balls!

It’s clear that even educated folks still have a little ways to go. I nthe article, one mom is quoted as saying she’d been feeding her child organic strawberries for a while, knowing that they’re on the “dirty dozen” list. But she hadn’t given frozen strawberries “a second thought.”

Mindful Girl would smile and make a mental note to add frozen fruits to my lists when explaining which conventional fruits and veggies are the most toxic.

The Wellness Bitch would say, “Think people! Think!!!!!”

Since my two personas attract two different audiences (with some overlap), I will likely continue to straddle both worlds. One leg in the peaceful realm of Mindful Girl “making connections that make a difference.” And the other kicking you in the face in an effort to wake you the fuck up.

As you know, I am a wellness bitch loud and proud. People in my life have actually started introducing me that way to perfect strangers. Or, my husband for instance, will say something to the effect of, “watch out, here comes the wellness bitch.” As if I’m Bruce Banner morphing into the Incredible Hulk.

It’s all good.

What’s also fun is how much people relate to the concept of being a wellness bitch. I get comments like, “yeah, I’m the wellness bitch in my playgroup. People are terrified to bring snacks into my house without checking with me first.” Or yesterday, a practitioner I met for the first time said, “Is The Wellness Bitch anything like the Reiki Nazis I know?”

People who are passionate about health and wellness do not blend in with the crowd. They may not have a podium to speak on or rant daily on a blog, but people in their lives know what they’re up to.

For me, bitching usually happens around the topics of food, childbirth choice, parenting, education and health care. But I’m curious to know what you’re pissed off about. What WAKE UP CALLS are you sharing with your family and friends? What do you want to say that I may not be bitchin’ enough about?

Use The Wellness Bitch today as your podium. Go ahead. Rant. Here.

I’d say “keep it clean,” but that’d be hypocritical, wouldn’t it?

I’m sitting in Room A of the Essex County Courthouse in Newark, NJ. It never occured to me that I might try to get out of jury duty by pleading chemical sensitivity. But now all I can think is “how long can I hold my breath?”