The Rare Vancouver Goddess

There are countless beautiful, smart, and talented women in this city. I pass dozens of them everyday on my way to and from work and I see dozens more shopping on Robson street or walking their dogs at Kits Beach and English Bay. Later in the evening, I encounter many more in my belly dance classes. They seem to significantly outnumber the men because for every tall, good looking man I see on the street, I notice 10 stunning women of all different shapes, sizes, and races.

It’s often hard to stand out in this crowd of beautiful women and even harder to stay confident in your own appeal when surrounded by such extraordinary female specimens. Vancouver truly is an oasis of attractive, talented, and charming women.

So now you may be thinking:"What's the catch? This place seems like paradise!". Yes, it can be, at least on the surface. But the truth is: Many of the very beautiful women in this city are either bitchy, fake, arrogant, shallow, or insecure and therefore, jealous. Some posess all of these terrible traits. In my opinion, any of the above qualities automatically make you UGLY (except maybe being insecure), regardless of how esthetically pleasing you may be.

Every so often, however, you meet that one woman who has it all yet is down to earth and humble at the same time. She'll blow you away with her beauty, talent, grace, modesty, and amazingly attractive goddess-like energy. She renders you almost speechless as you stare at her in awe, trying simultaneously to figure out what makes her so stunning while also trying to figure out how you can absorb as much of her energy as possible. She may not be perfect, and she definitely doesn’t fit the Hollywood plastic mould of manufactured beauty, but there is just everything about her that somehow makes her one of the most gorgeous women you have ever seen. This is a goddess!

It’s not just her beautiful face, it’s not just her amazing body, it’s not just her unwavering confidence, and it’s not just her extraordinary talent – It’s her fearless feminine spirit!

I’ve only had the pleasure of meeting a few of these goddesses in my life (the universe knows I am not one of them myself, although there is a part of me that aspires to be just like them). As I sit here and recall all the ones I’ve met in my life, I can only seem to account for a few. Today, I want to tell you about two of local goddesses: Sarita Mileta and Ana Llanes.


Let’s start with Sarita. The stunningly beautiful, multi-talented, Puerto Rican Canadian, Egyptian belly dancing, outspoken, hilarious, chain-smoking, drinkin’ and tough as nails yet extremely soft and feminine, Sarita. She’s very well known in the dance community, having been a professional Polynesian dancer in her teens and one of the very best belly dancers in the city for the past 30 years.

When I first met Sarita almost 3 years ago, I was just beginning my belly dance journey. I felt like a tall, lanky and slightly awkward dancer who just wanted to fit in and move a little like Shakira. I had only been shakin' my booty for 6 months and was very new to the Middle Eastern world of dance. I walked into Sarita’s class and was instantly struck by this dark eyed deity of a woman with long flowing hair and a body to die for. She greeted me warmly with a hug and a kiss on the cheek as if she had known me for years. I was almost dumbfounded by how affectionate, open, and inviting she was without a hint of the annoying snootiness I expected to encounter from a dancer of her calibre. (Perhaps I’ve just taken too many ballet classes but somehow I gained the impression that all great dancers where stuck up, snobby bitches).

Over the next few months, I spent a lot of time in Sarita’s class, learning very precise technique in a straightforward and simple approach. My belly dance skills improved dramatically and it was all due to her impressive guidance and instruction. I was being mentored by one of the best belly dancers in North America. She taught me to be proud of my height and use it to my advantage while teaching me how to captivate an audience with the simplest of elegant movements. The best part was: She did it all with a fiery passion and hilarious mocking of what not to do and why. Above all, she taught me to have fun with the dance and not take myself too seriously.

When you meet Sarita, you are either instantly jealous of her or instantly smitten with her. I recently found out that a few years ago, she was openly ostracized by a large part of the belly dance community because she was seen (by plain looking white girls) as being “too sexy”. I can only assume that anyone who could not appreciate and want to learn from this woman could only be jealous. Furthermore, who the hell could possibly say that a great belly dancer is “too sexy”?!? HELLO, that’s the fuckin’ point!!! I’m still trying to wrap my head around this ridiculous rationale, but anyway, I digress….

While she was teaching me how to dance like an Egyptian (still working on that but I’m well on my way!), she also began to show me how warm, encouraging and loving of a person she is. On the outside, she’s a stunningly gorgeous woman with an intense motherly charm and a friendly and inviting aura. On the inside, she’s a ball busting, sharp witted businesswoman, “get the hell out of my way” Mamacita, with a take no prisoners attitude and an indefatigable energy. Put those inner and outer qualities together and you’ve got a hell of a lot of woman that you just can’t help but sit back and stare at in awe and admiration.

On top of all that, she’s a Sagittarius and believe it or not, a grandmother! She’s also got two very good looking sons who were raised to be true gentleman. A part of me wants to marry one of her sons just so I can have the ultimate mother in law!

Women like Sarita come along so very rarely and I’m so thankful to have her valuable influence in my life. I have yet to meet another woman quite like her. However, just last week, I met another one of these extremely rare and fantastically amazing women, professional flamenco beauty Ana "ANITA DE BORNOS" Llanes.

Interestingly enough, she introduced herself as Sarita’s daughter. How perfect!

Now I haven’t known Ana that long, I just started taking my first flamenco class with her last week, but like Sarita, as soon as you meet her you are struck by how stunningly gorgeous, confident, and down to earth she is. And then I saw her dance. OH MY GOD! Ana is by far one of the BEST flamenco dancers I have ever seen!

When you watch her dance, you are captivated by her entrancing presence and amazingly skilled composure. She will elegantly saunter onto the stage as if she’s just jsut stumbled across a new opportunity to dance and she’s drinking in the scene with her kaleidoscopic sky blue eyes. When the melodic flamenco guitar suddenly shifts it’s beat, Ana glides through thick air in a flurry of graceful movement with an impressive technique that could only have originated from the birthplace of flamenco itself. For the remainder of her performance, every single person in the room is captivated and stunned silent by this incredibly talented beauty as she translates wonderful music into a physical art that defies simplistic description.

Now I’ve never been one to learn new dance moves quickly, in fact, I seem to take a very long time to become comfortable with a new dance style and flamenco is no exception. As I stumble and stretch awkwardly in the back row, reminiscent of my first days of belly dance, Ana comes around and corrects my posture and movement with a friendly technical eye for detail. As bad of a flamenco dancer as I appear to be, and as much as I must be butchering this traditional dance, she never once makes me feel awkward and in fact encourages me to keep going, try harder, and keep practicing.

What strikes me the most about Ana is the fact that she’s so uniquely confident in her own style and skill. At the same time, she’s incredibly modest, down to earth, and very approachable. While she’s teaching, she’s a flurry of energy and movement while spewing descriptively graphic dance metaphors that you’ve never heard before yet completely understand. Although she’s an extremely elegant and feminine woman, she will occasionally yell out such expressions as “Come on Chicas, tits to the sky!” or “your hip is like the wife calling her drunk husband home from the streets and you move your opposite leg in to say COME HOME NOW!” with a stamp of her feet and genuine bull fighter expression on her gorgeous face.

Indeed, Ana is a very rare gem and one that I am extremely thankful for because I just want to soak up as much of her rich and strong feminine aura as I possibly can.

To close, I just want to say that I think all women should open themselves up to meet and learn from extraordinary women like Sarita and Ana. I know I’m a better woman for having known these two and many other ladies like them. As women, the best thing we can do is love, encourage and support eachother. We need to welcome other ladies to grow and learn from us, as we can grow and learn from them. This can only raise confidence, strength, and sisterhood all around.

Every woman has something wonderful to offer, be it as a teacher, a colleague or a friend. As I mentioned, I find many women in this city to be catty, competitive, insecure, or just downright frenemie bitches (and with good reason I guess, competition is fierce!) so it’s refreshing and so lovely to meet such open and warm women like Sarita and Ana. If we could all just be a little more like them, this city would be an ever better place to live.

Namaste

To learn more about these two amazing dancers, or to see them perform live, please visit Sarita’s dance Studio 505 at http://www.dance505.com/.

Everything Changes on New Years Day

(The first story in Steph in Van-City: A year in the life)

As far as I’m concerned, New Years Day is the most pivotal day of the year. It signals many things: You need to change your calendar, you need to update your cheque book or else the bank will laugh at you and return your cheques, and your now tight pants are reminding you that the holidays are officially over and it’s time to hit the gym again. After those thoughts have been processed, it’s time to take stock of past 12 months and plan for what you want this fresh New Year in your life to look like. For many people, that might be planning to quit a bad habit or lose those extra pounds. For me, it meant losing 170 pounds in the form of my current boyfriend.

That’s right, New Years Day this year signaled that it was time to end my one and a half year relationship and start the New Year off right. And by right I mean single and alone.

I should clarify that this wasn’t some rash decision I made when I woke up on January 1, contrary to how it may seem. In fact, things have been building up for several months now and it all seemed to get that much worse the closer it got to the end of the year. So really, the timing is just perfect to make a new start. All I knew on the morning of January 1, 2006 was that I wanted to start this New Year off right.

I suppose now would be a good time to give you some background information on why I decided to start my fresh new year with a clean break up. Here goes:

Panama

It all started in the spring of 2004 when I met my ex-boyfriend, let’s call him Panama. The morning we met, I had just come home from a horrible weekend in San Francisco with a guy I met on vacation a few months prior. He asked me to come back and visit, so I did, and it turned out to be the most disappointing 4 days of my life. The sex was terrible, the guy was a dumb ass upon closer inspection, and I probably would have had a better time alone and lost in the woods for 4 days. I flew back at midnight the night before and was picked up by my fabulous roommate, Cheli. In a valiant effort to console me, she provided two bottles of wine and we drank them together while I cried my eyes out about yet another failed relationship attempt. Needless to say, the next morning I looked and felt like absolute dog shit, and my irritable “piss on the world” mood reflected how I felt on the inside.

As the bus pulled up to take me to work, I fished around for my monthly bus pass. It was then that I realized that it was no longer May, it was in fact, June 1 and I had a bus pass for the month of May. When I presented my pass to the driver, he pointed out this simple fact and I had to scramble to find change to pay my fare. Of course, I had no change, I just spent the last 4 days in the states and I had absolutely no Canadian cash on me. At this point, I was holding up the line of commuters trying to get onto the bus. It was then that I heard a calm and quiet voice behind me say something along the lines of “That happened to me before”. I spun around to find the source of such an asinine comment and found myself looking into the face of a rather attractive, smiling Latin man. Given my horrible mood and subsequent red eyes, I just gave him a horribly dirty look and then turned back to the bus driver and began to plead with him to take me to work. The driver finally decided to let me on, only after making a spectacle by dramatically ripping up my bus pass and throwing it into the trash can.

I got on the bus and rode to work in misery. The attractive Latin guy kept stealing glances at me out of the corner of his eye and I just continued to glare out the window, hating everyone and everything all at once. Needless to say, it was a terrible morning and somehow I knew the day would only get worse.

A few weeks later, I saw the attractive Latin man again at the bus stop. This time, I was in a much better mood as I walked with Cheli to catch the bus. She saw him waiting for the bus and said “Hello, Panama. This is my roommate, Stephanie”. He looked at me and smiled and said: “Hi, we haven’t met officially but I know you.” Flashbacks of my extreme bitchiness that fated June 1 mad me smile sheepishly as I said hello and tried not to feel like too much of an asshole.

Panama and I started hanging out after that and then one day he just leaned over and kissed me while we were munching on Sushi for lunch. That was it, the next serious relationship had begun.

Panama had caught me a strange time in my life. For the first time, thanks to the icing on the “all men suck” cake courtesy of Mr. Loser San Fran, I was official jaded. I didn’t trust men and didn’t really want anything to do with them for the first time in my life. Panama worked hard to get to me though and he did eventually win my heart after countless romantic gestures to remind me that not all men are bad. This was one of the first times that I have forced a man to chase me, but not on purpose. I suppose it is true that people want what they have to work for in relationships because he had to work hard to win me over and he fell hard in the process.

Things went very well for most of the first year of our relationship and I actually thought that this might just be the one for me. He spoiled me, I admit it, but it felt so good to be treated like a queen for the first time in my life. He did everything for me, something I had never experienced before. Basically, he adored me and put me up on a very high pedestal and he looked at me as if I was his perfect woman. I just sat back in awe and watched it all unfold.

But of course, what goes up must come down and when you are placed on such a high pedestal, you have no where to go but down and that’s exactly where I ended up.

Things went very well for the first year. We even spent almost a month together in Panama City, his hometown, and he was the perfect escort for the trip. He made sure I was comfortable and content. He even helped me through a particularly embarrassing episode in which I had to use a local tampon when my period started and I became violently ill as a result. It started just after dinner one night with his family and suddenly I had to throw up, and a few seconds later I did, all over him in the restaurant! He didn’t even flinch, he just made sure I was okay and got to the bathroom. How could you not appreciate a man who cares more about your well being than the fact that you just barfed all over him in public? (Ladies, please take note: Always bring your own tampons when traveling outside of North America. Just trust me on this one!)


So things were great in Panama but after we got back, everything started to change. He suddenly started to view me in a different light. He began criticizing me constantly. Pretty soon he verbally expressed his dislike for everything from the faces I made to the way I walked. This was a complete 180 from the guy who thought I was womanly perfection just a few months prior.

During this paradigm shift, I tried my best to accept this sudden change in the dynamic of my relationship while attempting to alter my habits to better suit his needs. It was also at this point that I started to realize that we had horrible communication skills as a couple. I would say one thing and he would hear something very different. It was almost as if we were listening to two different radio stations, or speaking two different languages. It wasn’t necessarily a language barrier, he spoke English very well, it was just that we were two people with very different thought processes.

Suddenly, the dynamics of our relationship changed dramatically. He was distant and unreachable while I was the one scrambling to get his attention and keep things happy and comfortable between us. The fights came easily and often and there were times when I wasn’t sure if we had any respect for each other left anymore.

It was at this point that I started to realize just how differently we dealt with problems in our lives. I am the type of person that likes to tackle problems by coming up with a list of potential solutions. He on the other hand, likes to talk in depth about the problems, even complain about them, and then eventually work the problem out in his own head. Basically, I’m solution oriented without a lot of complaining while he likes to explain his issues in detail and let the solution come on it’s own. This fundamental difference between us was the root of a lot of our problems: He thought I wasn’t listening when I interrupted with ways of solving the problem while I thought he was a big whiner that likes to complain about his problems rather than do something about them. Even when we began to understand these personality differences, we knew we probably couldn’t change our ways just to suit the other person.

During this tumultuous time in our relationship, I tried everything I could to understand what was happening and somehow restore the harmony we once had. I read several books on communication and discussed them with him, I tried to surprise him with gifts and things to relieve his stress. I spent as much time with him as I could. I basically moved into his apartment during this time period, all while virtually ditching my dear friend Cheli, who had also began to change her once positive opinion of him. I tried hard to take a good look at myself and my bad habits and attempted to change and improve upon things that I was in control of. However, the harder I tried, the more stressed I felt and since I was getting minimal reciprocity for my efforts, it felt like a vicious circle.

Panama also started becoming a lot more mean to me. I knew he had a mean streak, I’d seen it before, but he never treated me even similar to how he treated others at times. He started making terrible jokes that were hurtful to me and when I called him on it, he would say that I couldn’t take a joke. Suddenly every thing he said seemed to be mean or condescending and it was starting to take a toll on my usually very cheerful and optimistic self. One day he mentioned that I didn’t laugh like I used to, in fact I hardly laughed at all anymore, and I was saddened to realize that he was right.

This all came to a head around Christmas time. We were arguing constantly and nothing seemed to be going right. He was obviously unhappy that he wasn’t spending the holidays with his family and he took it out on me in many ways. At this point, I had had enough of his whining and I wasn’t tolerating it anymore. This only made things worse.

Then came the straw that broke the fatigued camels back: After Christmas dinner at my parents, everyone who attended came down with a very severe stomach flu. Within 48 hours of dinner, every single guest was bed ridden and very sick. It hit Panama first and I took care of him for the first 24 hours. After that point, it hit me and we were both down for the count. I couldn’t eat for almost 3 days and he was in just as bad of shape as I was. He recovered a little sooner than I did due to his illness coming earlier and by New Years eve, he was back to normal and I was finally ready to start eating again. We went out to a nice dinner and talked for a while and made plans to visit friends for the countdown. However, soon after dinner, my stomach had other ideas. I felt horribly ill again and I had to go home. I was in terrible pain and he just looked at me as if I was faking it and ruining his night. He then proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the night.

As I sat with him on the couch watching the ball drop and hearing the neighborhood welcome 2006, I felt more alone and unhappy than I had in a very long time. I knew at that point that I didn’t want to be with him anymore and I was simply delaying the inevitable by pretending that I did. Perhaps we could have salvaged some of the relationship that night if only he had tried to comfort me somehow in my time of need. He didn’t however, because he chose to act like a spoiled child and I just couldn’t take it anymore. Even a friend would have done more to comfort me when I needed it that night, but my so called boyfriend did nothing but sulk.

That was the last night we shared a bed, ever.

On New Years day 2006

I woke up feeling marginally better physically, but weak and drained emotionally. Cheli was doing the polar bear swim at English Bay that morning and I decided to go and hold a towel for her and take funny pictures. The Polar Bear swim is a crazy event where locals throw themselves into the freezing cold ocean at noon on the first day of the new year in an attempt to cleanse themselves or prove their bravery, or stupidity, or something like that. I’ve never really understood it, even though I’ve lived here my whole life.There was no way in hell I was going to go and throw my perfectly warm self into sub zero temperatures for no apparent reason, but of course I wanted to go and take pictures of Cheli doing just that. Panama and I wandered down to the beach, hardly speaking, and I knew in my heart that it would be our last day together as a couple.

When we returned to his apartment, I told him I needed some time and space away from him and I packed up my bags and left. He didn’t try to stop me that day and I was glad for it. Somehow deep down, I just knew that I needed to start my new year off on the right foot and that meant being alone.

I’ve heard people say that the matter in which you spend your first day of the New Year will colour the entire 12 months that follow. I am not sure if that is true or not, but for some reason it stuck out in my head and it gave me the strength to end what was once a strong and happy relationship. I knew that I would rather be alone than unhappy, so that is exactly what I decided to be: alone.

I thought a lot about the relationship, the mistakes we both made and all the warning signs I neglected to see. Twenty-twenty hindsight is indeed an interesting thing. I learned a lot about myself and relationships while we were together and I could see that I had grown a lot in the past year and a half.

One mistake I definitely will not make again is letting a man believe that I am truly perfect when I know I am not. I think women like the idea that men may think we are perfect, I suppose it stems from the ideal fairy tale romance we all dream about as little girls. The reality is though, if you let someone think you are indeed perfection, you only have room to make mistakes and show your flaws. With Panama, I was put on the highest pedestal in the world. After a short while though, I fell off my throne and crashed to the ground and was horribly beaten by a painful reality. I learned many things from this relationship but that particular reason stands out in my mind more than the others.

The other major thing that stands out in my mind is the realization of just how important individual identity and clear communication are in a relationship. If a person needs you to change in order for them to like you more, than you are with the wrong person. I tried to change for him and in the process, I lost my laugh and I lost my sense of confidence in being the unique and wonderful person I am. I spent all my energy on changing myself and in the process, I lost those good things about myself that I love so much while I was trying to change the areas that needed work.


I also realized just how important it is to have your partner truly understand you without the need for fights, arguments, and disrespect through yelling and name calling. I’ve always known deep down that clear and honest communication was important, but now I understand it so much better having lived through a great example of how badly things can go when that element of good communication is missing. I know relationships are hard work, but if it takes all you’ve got just to hold on to the relationship, it is definitely taking too much work and nothing should be that hard. I guess it’s kind of like trying to shove a square peg in a round hole: It just won’t work no matter how hard you try.

As I went to bed alone, in my own bed, that night on January 1, 2006, I thought more about what I wanted the next 12 months of my life to look like. I stopped thinking about the last 12 and started focusing on all the wonderful things the next 12 would bring. I felt strong, in control and optimistic that this year held good things in store for me. Deep down, I knew I made the right choice to spend the first evening of this New Year alone and I slept peacefully for the first time in several months.