The Purple Fig Wed, 18 May 2016 18:15:42 +0000 en-US hourly 1 Why I Will Probably Never Look Like Kayla Itsines Wed, 18 May 2016 18:11:07 +0000 As I scroll through Kayla Itsine’s Instagram feed, I am astonished by the number of women completely transforming their bodies. And I mean, complete and utter conversion. From what I’ve seen with regular Before and After pictures over the years (like the one shown here) the weight has clearly been shed, and the belt is tightened, but the subject has clothes on.




Well, these women posting their progress photos on Kayla Itsines’ Instagram aren’t fully naked, but almost.


And for a few moments I feel so inspired; my abs tense up, my posture improves and a jolt of motivation runs through my veins.

I am in my 11th week (four pre-training weeks included) of doing the Bikini Body workout, #BBG as it is referred to online, and I have to say, I feel strong. I even feel quite tight in some areas. Although the scale doesn’t reflect a huge change, I can see something in the mirror (Kayla says to never look at the scale anyway). Okay so, that’s great right? Sure, but then I got to thinking, could I ever look like Kayla Itsines or any of those women in her Instagram feed? 

Since having my third baby I have come to the realization that maybe I have to look at my body as a blank canvas without any previous conceptions. With the other two, I worked very hard to get all the weight off (I gain a shit ton in pregnancy) through diet and exercise and by month 10 or 11 I was back to my old self both times. This time, however, things are proving to be a bit more challenging.

Regardless of age or genetics, I had to look at my lifestyle in order to assess whether or not I could attain that ripped bod. And just as I was recalling glasses of wine and how many sausages I had on the weekend, this pops up in my feed from Kayla herself: nodrinkingkaylaIt took my breath away. 

No alcohol. The smoking and the drugs, okay no problem without, but alcohol? My chilled glass of Santa Margarita on a summer afternoon? My Pinot Noir with steak frites on a Saturday night? And what about that steak frites? She doesn’t put anything about food in this post, but you know Itsines isn’t throwing back a rib-eye with her boyfriend (this is what they actually do) and dipping fried potatoes into aioli sauce, right?

So I started thinking, what does she do on a Saturday night? I realize there is a whole plethora of other options beyond drinking wine and eating delicious food, but I guess nowadays for me, that is a pretty amazing evening. I mean, when I look back at even just the last six months, I don’t know where I could have done an elimination diet. What about the dinners with my girlfriends? And the new frying techniques I learned and the mayo based sauces I experimented with? What about the trip to California with my family and cocktail hour at 4 pm with my dad? Christmas turkey? New Years steak and champagne? Saturday afternoon beers and poutine with my husband? Ahhhhhh! Too-much-fun-to-be-had! I’m sure for Kayla, working out and eating healthy IS fun! And yes, for thirty minutes three times a week I tell myself the same thing.

But as I gear up for my first weekend getaway since my baby was born, I think, you know what? My abs may not look like this: kaylaabs


But man am I going to enjoy dipping some deep fried potatoes into mayo and sipping on a glass of Pinot Noir!

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Happy Mother’s Day To All The Motherless Mothers Sun, 08 May 2016 14:54:29 +0000 I became motherless a few days after my sixteenth birthday. My aunt told me that I would never, ever again feel the pain that I had experienced in that summer of 1994. Somehow that became my survival inspiration. I was going to live the rest of my life without that kind of anguish again because, well, I’d just hit my quota of pain earlier in life. Amazing.

Now, over twenty years later I know that there is no set amount of suffering created specifically for one’s life. You can never know when your worst moment becomes one of the better ones compared to what’s ahead.

For me, the bomb that dropped in the form of her passing has continued to lay out debris over the years. Bits of it during heartbreak in my 20s, being lost and restless, my wedding, the births of my three babies and so on.

But as you motherless mothers know, there is something about your own baby being born that clears away some of that debris. You never stop missing your mother, but becoming one takes the sting of ‘less’ out of mother for you now.

I hope my mom, wherever she is, is watching over my sister and I and our 7 kids, and she’s smiling. I wish all of you motherless mothers a very happy mother’s day, because today is the day we can feel a little bit of sadness, but a whole lot of gratitude.


Read more from Trish Bentley

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Our Bodies, Wellness & Aging: A Chat with Chia Chia Sun Sat, 07 May 2016 18:25:06 +0000 Chia Chia Sun, Founder & CEO of Damiva Inc., a brand of women’s wellness products aimed at breaking the taboos around talking about menopause, spoke at our What Mama Didn’t Tell Us event in Toronto last November. Recently, we caught up with Chia Chia to learn more about what happens as our bodies age, and the innovative Canadian company she founded.



PF: I’m going to come right out and ask… How do our bodies change as we age?


First, our body fat composition and distribution changes. As we age, fat starts to accumulate around the middle and hips due to depletion of hormones as our ovaries begin to shut down in peri-menopause.damiva2


You see, abdominal fat is a great receptor for hormones such as estrogen. As our ovaries age and begin to shut down, the body’s natural response is to build abdominal fat that can store estrogen. The “menopausal midriff” is a common issue for women over 40 (and also for men I might add).



PF: What about wrinkles? Can we get wrinkles on our intimate parts?


Just like we get wrinkles on our face, our mucous membranes (mouth, gut and vagina) are also “drying out” or losing moisture. Yes, our vaginas are aging too. All women will experience vaginal dryness after menopause – some to a greater degree than others – and, just like our wrinkles worsen, so will our vaginal tract.


This was the reason we developed Mae; it helps to combat vaginal dryness with an all-natural insertable ovule.



PF: We often focus on the physical affects of hormonal changes, but not so much the mental or emotional. How do hormonal changes at 35, 45 and 55 change how we feel?


Age 35: Between ages 20 and 35 is generally a very nurturing time for women, except for women who are postpartum. Women who are postpartum typically experience some of the symptoms of menopause, e.g. depression, mood instability and vaginal dryness. This is due to the extreme drop in progesterone (the nurturing hormone), which is built up during pregnancy and then goes back to normal (or below normal) after birth. 


Age 45: Women will start to experience changes that they may not have had since adolescence. These include acne, pre-menstrual syndrome, hormonal headaches and psychological symptoms. One in three women, never diagnosed with depression, are at risk for depression between the ages of 40 and 50! The primary reason for the negative mood changes is the loss of progesterone, the nurturing hormone.


Age 55: Menopause typically starts at age 50 so by age 55, many women will have experienced the worst of the transition and achieved some equilibrium. The hormone fluxes are not nearly as severe but the new reality is that many women will experience “flatness” due to a constant level of low “female” hormones. It’s kind of ironic because we deal with our monthly hormonal changes for so long, and then we have to deal with not having them!



PF: Why is it important to use all natural products in and on our vaginas?


The use of chemically-laden products can disrupt hormones. For any woman who cares about what she’s using on her body, the use of 100% natural products for vaginal moisture is important. It’s crucial though that women read labels carefully as I see a lot of products labeled as “natural” that have terrible ingredients in them. They might contain a few natural ingredients but these “disguise” the chemical preservatives listed in fine print.



PF: What are you most excited about for the future of Damiva, and what kind of impact will your products have on the lives of women?


We are rapidly becoming the company that solves menopausal problems. We have a second product, Cleo by Damiva, a labial moisturizer, which has just launched, and we also have created an incredible content database that we will share with women soon so that they can have vital information at their fingertips. I myself am very privileged that when I am experiencing a certain symptom of menopause, I have all these products and information at my disposal. I want all women to have the same level of support that I do.


About Chia Chia

Chia Chia Sun is a pharmaceutical executive turned women’s health entrepreneur. As CEO of Damiva Inc., a women’s health company developing innovative natural products for women 40+, she has dedicated her career to making the last 40 years of a woman’s life happier than the first. Chia Chia has worked as a C-level executive for life sciences companies based in the U.S., U.K., and Canada. In her spare time, she loves to get teased by her teenagers, knit and cook for her partner, and read about taboo-breaking companies. 

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Trish Bentley Is The Unapologetic Parent on The Huffington Post Wed, 04 May 2016 19:16:53 +0000 Trish Bentley, editor of The Purple Fig, has started writing a column for The Huffington Post, called Unapologetic Parent. Informative and relatable articles on parenting hot topics, “Unapologetic Parent” will examine the pressures and scrutiny parents often face when making personal choices on how to parent.



Stop Shaming Moms Who Bottle Feed


The Big Business of Baby Sleep Training


This Practice Will Help You Keep Your Cool With Your Kids

C-Section Stigma: Things People Have Actually Said To Cesarean Moms


Why My Husband And I Chose Not To Circumcise

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Nobody Chooses To Have A Mental Disorder Tue, 19 Apr 2016 17:20:00 +0000 Three months is all it takes to walk from the realm of the living up onto the doorstep of death. Those months become blurred, out of focus. Hard to recall. Three months living on the bare minimum food intake is all it takes to become a skeleton.

Three months is all it takes to ruin everything you have worked towards in your life.

The correct phrase is ‘body dysmorphic disorder’ [noun – a psychological disorder in which a person becomes obsessed with imaginary defects in their appearance].

A person. Psychological disorders should be contained to inside your very own skull. The bones thick enough to keep any of the black substance from leaking out and leaching onto those you care about.

Unfortunately, this isn’t the case. And I didn’t realize this until it was almost too late.

If you were to ask me what my view on myself is, my answer would be ‘I don’t know.’

I don’t.

I avoid looking in mirrors in fear of finding a reflection staring back that has a quality to it I can pick apart. Every reflection provides my brain with another opportunity to play a trick on me. It keeps images of past, dissatisfied looks, and replaces what I really see with the flawed image. I haven’t been able to feel comfortable in my skin for the longest time.

The stories you hear of mental disorders, never relay the truth of everything. The disorder does not just affect those who are stuck with it in their heads. The disorder is not a choice.

Three months is all it takes to bring a dad who would stand against a bullet for you to be brought to his knees in tears. In the fear of losing yet another baby.

The media advertises it all. Thigh gaps. Jutting Collarbones. Flat stomach.

What about the sallow look of death that hides around your eyes. The inability to walk because you have wandered into a world that is constantly spinning. Not being able to stand up for long because spots dance across your eyes. The dizziness. The fainting.

I just want guys to like me.

But no one wants to like the look of death. The girl in discomfort because she can’t leave her stomach unguarded. The hip bones that jut out so far hitting them on the edge of the counter is enough to bring you to tears.

I have lost three months of my life to anorexia nervosa. I have lost more months of my life than I want to count to a disorder that causes me to see imperfections in places that don’t really exist.

But three months of looking like a model must have felt amazing.

I couldn’t feel anything. The constant claw in my stomach combined with the critical voice that had wrapped itself around my head and whispered in my ear every time my face appeared on a reflective surface is not ‘amazing.’ It is death. It was a disease that was slowing killing me one skipped meal at a time.

But everyone knows that about the disease. We all know it. No food will lead to lack of control, lack of memory. The real damage is done to those around you. Your body will eventually heal itself. The people around you don’t.

I threw away every meal that came before 6:00PM. Control. I hid it in every place you could think of – and every morsel eventually ended up in the trash. My mom knew. Moms have a way of knowing things. The battle that went on in my head as I tried to coax myself to eat an apple is nothing compared to the look of pain I had to see in my mother’s eyes every time I came home. Daily threats of hospitalization glazed over, as I didn’t see anything wrong. I didn’t see anything wrong with plowing headfirst to the floor when getting blood drawn. I didn’t see anything wrong with my vision suddenly clouding over, and waking up on the floor. Her first child died at birth. Watching another one slowly slip away, and become nothing but skin pulled taunt over bones, and spewing automated messages out of her mouth was enough to make her depressed.

I was the one with the disease. I was the one who pushed my mother into depression.

The most important things in my life were slipping through my grasp for 2o pounds. I was losing control because the little weight I tried to lose was inhibiting my ability to function as a human being.

My dad broke down and cried. My brother concerned. He came up to me, hugged me, and whispered to me how he didn’t really want to be an only child.

Friends dragged their zombie-like friend class to class. Concerned, but too proper to say anything. We are raised on lies that skinny is good.

I had the disease. But it was the cocky, sly retorts from others that triggered it. I was the one with the disease, but it was those around me who were the ones who were really suffering.

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Yogurt Breakfast Bowls: An Angel And A Devil Side Mon, 11 Apr 2016 15:00:36 +0000 In our household, there is a lot of talk about junky food and healthy food–without healthy food, there is no junk food. At least, that’s what I try to implement.

When I was a kid we didn’t have pop or chips in the house and “junky” food was reserved for very special occasions. So, every time I went to my friend’s house, where there were always goodies, I’d go straight for her fridge.

Opening that door unleashed a fervor that led me to the pantry, and then to the cupboard where all the cookies and chips lived. I’d known this family since birth so I was very comfortable. My friend couldn’t care less about all the packages of Shark Bites and Smurf cereal, but I was immediately plagued with hunger pangs the moment I caught a whiff.

When I left home and entered the world of working and rent payments, I was able to choose my own groceries and fill my own cupboards. Unfortunately I made a lot of bad decisions to make up for the years of being held captive in the land of chipless wonder.

It wasn’t that I didn’t understand what was unhealthy and what wasn’t—it’s just that making the healthier choice seemed so boring and mundane. The sound of a bag of chips popping and that first hand-full crackling inside the bag was so much more of a rush.

Now, with the good old days of my twenties behind me, my body doesn’t allow me to eat like that anymore. And I don’t want my kids to eat like that either. Because I have assumed the position of grocery purchaser and meal-maker in my own home, I have a choice and often I make the healthy one. There is just the tricky business about how to convey to little ones how they too should make a healthier choice. I do believe that self-restraint and control comes from a deep understanding of moderation. Have some junk, but balance it out with the good stuff.

This is why yogurt is so popular in our house. We consume a lot of yogurt. And I mean, a lot. I cannot keep up with the amount. With a baby and two other growing boys, the demand is high. Every single morning we make smoothies, and yogurt specials and just recently I have created the ultimate yogurt breakfast bowls. These recipes were made with iogo Probio Yogurt, which now comes in a convenient resealable pouch.

In light of moderation and balance, we have one angel bowl, which we have in the mornings before school or before a big sporting event, and one devil bowl, reserved for weekends and holidays.


Angel Bowl

Angel Bowl
A delicious breakfast yogurt bowl filled with goodness.
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  1. 1/2 Avocado
  2. 1/4 cup IOGO yogurt
  3. 1 banana, frozen or add ice at the end
  4. 1/3 cup almond milk
  5. 1/3 cup strawberries, frozen
  6. Bran buds
  1. Add ingredients to blender and blend. In a bowl, layer blended mixture, bran buds, yogurt (repeat if a large bowl).
The Purple Fig




Devil Bowl
A devilish breakfast bowl that your kids will beg for every weekend!
Write a review
  1. 1/3 cup peanut butter
  2. 1/3 cup cream cheese
  3. 1/3 icing sugar
  4. 1/3 IOGO yogurt (I used strawberry/banana flavour)
  1. Blend ingredients, layer blended mixture, add a layer of your favourite cereal, add a layer of IOGO yogurt
The Purple Fig


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Women’s Rights: The Tangled Mess Of Legislation, Faith And Belief Thu, 07 Apr 2016 18:11:39 +0000 Once in while we must all look back and wonder if that offer of a job, of a relationship or a social step-up was one we should have taken.

Opportunity is a strange beast. So much of it is whimsical and based on “what if”, which is why I find the use of this word so hard to comprehend when used in the case of Savita Halappanavar, a 31-year-old dentist from Galway, Ireland.
This case is huge–its implications wide. It asks us questions of equality, right to life and of religious belief versus moral duty.

Ms Halappanavar’s case is so far beyond tragic, it’s almost impossible to understand. In black and white terms a woman died, despite begging for the abortion of a miscarrying foetus which was very quickly killing her. In a hospital. Surrounded by competent and trained staff. In a well resourced facility. In a developed country.


Stark isn’t it? Ms Halappanavar wasn’t just fighting for her life, she was fighting the whole establishment. She was fighting a system which legislated her death.

Naturally, there were investigations. Ireland’s Health Service Executive published its own report which cited the country’s controversial abortion laws as a contributing factor.

The investigation team is satisfied that concern about the law, whether clear or not, impacted on the exercise of clinical professional judgment.

– the report stated.

I’m not debating the rights or wrongs of abortion law in Ireland. It’s an exhausting, emotional and thankless task. In truth, I’m not even sure there’s enough legislation in the world that could even begin clarifying where the rights of the unborn child end and those of the mother begin.

And still there it is, this troubling case where opportunities to save a life were missed, not once but more than a dozen times, where a medical team, out of fear of the consequences, dragged its feet. Where the law allowed an otherwise healthy young woman to die. Or at the very least removed her chance of fighting the sepsis which had invaded her body.

A year after the case came to light the Irish Parliament passed the Protection of Life During Pregnancy Act. This act provides the option of abortion for a woman or girl whose life is at risk during pregnancy. And yet the confusion still remains.

It reminded me in many ways of the Church of England debates on gay marriage. Tying itself up in knots over which areas of a homosexual lifestyle were acceptable and which, they believed, were totally incompatible with living a life of faith.

These “grey areas” continue to put patients at risk and frustrate the medical community. It’s not acceptable. How could we expect anyone to work to their best of their ability if the fear of prosecution lurks behind them like a malevolent shadow?

Earlier this year Ms Halappanavar’s family settled out of court with the hospital. And four years after her death, life has moved on. And yet this isn’t going anywhere, this tangled mess of legislation, faith and belief.
I, for one, am not brave enough to suggest any kind of answer but I do believe we are heading in the right direction. We must seize the opportunities to debate how best to protect all life, to bring equality into medical practice and into the lives of the most vulnerable people in our society.

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We Are All Ordinary People In Extraordinary Times Wed, 23 Mar 2016 15:48:51 +0000 For the first time since forever, the sun is shining and warm on our faces. There’s a lull in hostilities and my girls are playing well together, absorbed in hunting down monsters and running away from foxes in “stinky houses” (nope, no idea). I’m sitting in a large, grassy park watching them act out their dramas, battling with sticks, attempting a tree climb, zooming down a slide or two. Normal, ordinary life – all is right with the world. Except of course it’s not. Two country borders away from where I sit hundreds of family and friends are grieving; trying to make sense of another atrocity. Reassuring children, comforting their communities. Being ordinary people in an extraordinary situation. Brussels is suffering.

I’m well aware that in Syria, in Palestine, in Mali, in Pakistan and Armenia there are thousands, thousands, thousands of people facing this kind of shit on a daily basis and yet only when Paris burnt, when Brussels fell to its knees did I no longer feel immune to terrorism or perhaps more accurately: the fear of terrorism. That kind of disconnect isn’t right and I’m not seeking to justify it. It’s just how it is for all of us.

And how do we worldwide community of “ordinary people” go on functioning day to day with this fear? How do we live in this climate of surprise attack and paranoia. After all, we’re not governments, we have no secret intel or survival skills. I, for, one would have no idea what to do if Geneva’s famous sirens went off for real.

Sitting in the warmth of this spring day, I’m reminded of the 9 February, 1996. The Docklands bomb rattled the windows of my East London home. I was sick. My Irish flatmate gave me a withering look and promptly took me down to the pub. The truth is we’ve lived through it before and we’ll live through it again. Regimes come and go, terrorists terrorise, bombs destroy, guns tear down. A new generation of suicide bombers will murder and maim. As a race we may have moved on from mustard gas and canons but we haven’t evolved far from the selfish, misguided and downright evil motivations that drive us to create even more imaginative ways of killing ourselves.

We ordinary people must keep on being just that: ordinary. Living out our lives despite everything, praying for the safety of our families, teaching our children how to climb trees and putting band aids on knees when they fall. Enjoying the sun and celebrating friendship. If it sounds trite then maybe it is but I for one will not stop being an ordinary human being in extraordinary times.

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Post Baby Incontinence Doesn’t Have To Be ‘Normal’ Fri, 26 Feb 2016 18:52:29 +0000 First off, let’s clarify that LBL, or “Light Bladder Leakage” is a nice way to say urinary incontinence. LBL is a term you might hear from marketing people, but you’ll never hear it pass the lips of a continence health professional. LBL is a less scary way of discussing an uncomfortable topic. Some might say that calling incontinence “LBL” also (dangerously) normalizes peeing your pants, even just a little bit. Folks, LBL isn’t normal. Sneeze, jumping, running and coughing leaks are NOT a rite of passage for moms. They are examples of stress urinary incontinence and are a sign of a dysfunctional deep core system that begs to be addressed.

SO, we’re going to call a spade a spade. Let’s talk about urinary incontinence. It’s a big deal. It’s very common. It most often can be prevented and treated through lifestyle changes, pelvic floor and alignment exercise.

Here are some not-so-sexy stats on the issue:
• One in four women over the age of 18 experience episodes of leaking urine involuntarily.
• On average, women wait 6.5 years from the first time they experience symptoms until they obtain a diagnosis for their bladder control problem(s).
• Stress urinary incontinence, the most prevalent form of incontinence among women, affects an estimated 15 million adult women in the U.S.
• According to the Canadian Urinary Bladder Survey, 16% of men and 33% of women over the age of 40 have symptoms of urinary incontinence.
• Pregnancy, childbirth, and menopause are major reasons of the increased prevalence of incontinence in women as compared to men.
• In 1998 the World Health Organization (WHO) reported that bladder control problems affect more than 200 million people worldwide.
• The WHO also said that incontinence is a largely preventable and treatable condition and that it’s “certainly not an inevitable consequence of aging.

seizepoiseI was recently invited to an event hosted by Poise, a brand of Kimberly-Clark that offers a variety of products to help women live with bladder leakage. A group of two dozen or so fitness professionals and wellness bloggers participated in a fantastic yoga class, enjoyed some healthy organic smoothies and heard from celebrity Brooke Burke-Charvet talk about “seizing her Poise moment.” Brooke is a mom of 4, fitness enthusiast and an all around inspirational woman. The two of us chatted for a quite a while in the corner of the room (I think the media people were curious what the heck we were yapping about for so long). I expressed how brave I think she is for using her celebrity to open up the conversation about a somewhat taboo but critical topic. I love Brooke.Brooke-Burke-2-397x397

I also admitted that as a fitness professional and pelvic health expert, I was a bit anti Poise. Bladder pads and insertable “Impressa” bladder supports designed to stop leaks before they start are not getting to the root of the problem. #BandaidSolution was my rant. Poor Brooke. She was really a fantastic listener!
What about pelvic floor physiotherapy? Coaching on neurological bladder re-training? Alignment based exercise to stack posture and reclaim a neutral pelvis that will properly support your bladder, uterus and bowels? SO many ways to both prevent and treat incontinence instead of mask it.
But you know what, Brooke gets it. Poise gets that too (at first I didn’t think that they did). Their products are a step on the road to recovery. They acknowledge that pads and “bladder tampons” are NOT the solution to incontinence. If you visit their site, you’ll see they’ve created a great Advice and Support section, including a podcast interview with a pelvic health physiotherapist. Would I like to see more mention of how to naturally prevent and treat incontinence on their site? Heck yes. But you know what, it’s a start.
The conversation has started. Poise is doing a decent job in that department. Women are starting to open up about their experiences and are realizing they are not alone. There is so much power in community and in sharing. The next step is to realize that something can actually be done to fix it, and to take action.
So, if you’re reading this and leaking even a dribble (yes, that counts as incontinence) please see a pelvic physiotherapist . It’s also important not to exacerbate the problem by doing activities that increase abdominal pressure (like sit ups, crunches) or exert downward pressure on the pelvic floor (running, jumping, skipping, high-impact exercises). Using a Poise product to manage the issue while getting physiotherapy and restoring your pelvic floor and core strength, is a fantastic option. Just please, don’t throw on a liner or insert an Impressa “bladder tampon” and go for a run. True empowerment comes not from relying on a product to cope with an embarrassing issue; empowerment comes from learning how to reclaim your body and restoring your continence, and confidence.

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New Social Network Just10 Aims To Make Your Social Media Life More Private Tue, 16 Feb 2016 15:11:39 +0000 While we’ve all seen the numerous social media posts from excited new moms and newly married couples, one has to wonder just how private your social media network is. Sure, you may have only added your family and closest friends (with the exception of that one nosy aunt or those click-happy ladies from high school who never quite grew up), but the key word here is social. As we all know, your networks on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram may be shockingly public. Unless you want the entire world to watch your life just like a movie, it’s probably a smart idea to ensure that your privacy settings are up to par.

However, a newly launched Toronto-based initiative called Just10 is attempting to turn social media into a more intimate space, where users can share information with just ten selected friends. Founded by Iran-born technology entrepreneur Frederick Ghahramani (who is also known as a privacy advocate), Just10 claims to offer stricter privacy regulations. It states that it will not sell its users’ personal information or use data for advertising purposes, and also claims that it will delete all data after ten days. As well, this platform aims to keep things playful with a series of Meactions (or special emoticons designed for commenting). 

If you’re striving to cut back on social media oversharing, this may be the solution to your digital woes. After all, there’s probably a select few people who should have the opportunity to see those adorable family vacation snaps or baby photos.

Will Just10 eventually make a splash, in the face of larger social media giants like Facebook? Although it may be too early to tell, we certainly like the idea of maintaining a smaller, more curated social circle in today’s increasingly digital universe.

On a less serious note, here’s a hilarious yet thought-provoking video which was created by the Just10 team. The next time you upload a photo of your baby bump or precious little one taking her first few steps, you may want to consider your online audience.

Photo: Just10

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