Month: May 2017

Strip That Down

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Current Events, Life, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

Today we’re going to talk about the man romper. 

Ever since they hit runways last week, there’s been a ton of feedback, mostly about how man rompers aren’t for straight men, no “real men” would wear a dude romper, etc. 


This really made me sit back and ask myself one question; 

“Why the actual fuck are we so concerned with what other dudes are wearing? Like, seriously?”

I have never understood this concept. Mostly because I wear whatever the Hell I want and don’t really give a flying frog’s ass what you think of my clothing. Unless you are paying my bills, mama wears whatever she feels comfortable in. This means I’m going to go to Sephora and buy my highlighter and rock my Sailor Moon shirts and a big middle finger to those that don’t like it. I pay for it; imma wear it. I didn’t put on the makeup to impress you, or because I wanted attention; I like it. The end. 


Which brings me back to the dude romper. If you’re a dude and you want to put on a romper, knock yourself out. Rock that romper. Wear it to the mall. Wear it to get chicken wings. Do you. It’s a piece of clothing. If you don’t want to wear one, don’t. But questioning someone’s masculinity over a piece of clothing is weird. What makes a “man” anyway? I always assumed you identified as male, generally you have a penis, and that’s about it. Like, obviously there are really good men, who respect their mates and pay their bills on time and don’t commit major crimes vs. Fuckboys, but that’s another story. To be male, you would need to have been born male or transitioned into being male. How would the dude romper affect that? Is it a magic romper? I’m confused. Please help me. 


Life is too short to judge people by what they wear or how they look. Wear the makeup or don’t. Dye your hair pink or don’t. Wear the dude romper or don’t. And don’t call people names for having pink hair or wearing the miniskirt or buying the dude romper. Don’t shame people for wearing a fatkini. At no point in time are you ever allowed to tell an adult what to wear, unless you are asked for advice on what colour man romper your bro should buy for himself. 


Humans all need to treat each other better. The best way to start is with the policy of “not my body, not my business.” The sooner we realize that, the happier we’ll all be. So stop calling women whores because they showed off their legs in that cute mini skirt. Stop calling men fags for wearing pink. Stop yelling at that girl for finally feeling confident enough to wear a bikini. Not your body, not your business. 

Finally, because I was already asked once, as a heterosexual woman, I would TOTALLY  date a dude in a romper. Seeing as my requirements are

1. Don’t be a douchebag

2. Like kids

3. Like dogs and cats

4. Like crossfit

5. Enjoy eating chicken wings and telling me I’m pretty. 

Any of those things can be done while wearing a romper. 

Whatever It Takes

by maryhelenc, posted in Fitnesslicious, Just Fun, Life, My New Life As Me, Terrible choices I make

My life has reached a comfortable and calming rhythm and I’m super grateful about that. It’s been so chaotically busy, but it’s a good busy. I’ve been building up my writing career nicely, I’m still working on those driving lessons, and I’ve been more successful at my day job than I have been in months. That means more money for me, and a better way to provide for the famjam. I’ve also been without fast food, alcohol, or caffeine for 22 of thirty days. I’m looking better, my skin is better, and I feel more alert and focused. 

This makes me wonder if I should resume my Red Bull filled life after the month is over.

These past few weeks have been very eye opening. Much like when you rid yourself of toxic people, not having caffeine has been the same for me. First I felt really shitty. But now, my mind is clear, I’m focusing better, I’m less tired because I’m sleeping better. My workouts are better (with the exception of the damn geese).  But  iced coffee is also really delicious. So, the struggle is real. 

Maybe I need to reevaluate how much caffeine I’m consuming. Maybe limit it to that one cup of tea or one Red Bull a day. Or even treat it like I do with alcohol and have it as a rare, once every few months treat. But I wonder if anyone else struggles with a quasi unhealthy love of caffeine? I mean, I don’t eat much fast food because it’s not good for you. I avoid alcohol because it isn’t good for you. But I guzzle caffeinated drinks like water even though I know they’re bad for me. Why am I giving this kind of poison a pass? Shouldn’t I keep it out of my life like I do all other poisons, food, human or otherwise? Or am I overthinking this? 


I guess I’m wondering if I’m sabotaging my best life by adding poison to my body and saying it’s okay because it’s just coffee. It’s just an energy drink. I’ve gone without for three weeks and I’ve been emotionally, physically, and mentally better. Maybe this thing we’re taught helps us stay alert is actually holding us back. Or maybe, I just really want a damn coffee and I’m trying to suppress the cravings with justifications that I don’t care about it hahaha. 

I want to be my healthiest, happiest self. Maybe that does mean caffeine free, alcohol, and fast food free (until I remember that there’s a Popeye’s five minutes from my house). I mean, it’s been three years since I’ve had soda & that’s been okay. Maybe cutting the cord on coffee won’t be so bad. I’ll probably feel better long term. But I’m not sure if I can stick to it. Maybe I’ll keep replacing it with my delicious David’s Tea until I forget about it forever…maybe. 

But for now, it’s time to consider ending my long term relationship with caffeine. It’s not you coffee, it’s me. I want to be a healthier, happier person and I’m afraid you might be holding me back. 

Fake Happy 

by maryhelenc, posted in Current Events, Life, MH vs Dating, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

There’s been an article circulating online that a few of my friends have tagged me in, mostly because it’s something I’d relate to. 

Feminista Jones, an authour and social worker, encouraged women to agree with a man when they complimented her. The results weren’t terribly surprising. Anyone who is familiar with my online dating trolling on my personal Facebook page knows all about what happens when you say “no thank you” or agree with a compliment. I thought maybe I was just a bitch, but no, apparently this is a thing. 



I’ve seen this in my previous long term relationships, and even the workforce. Weak men do not like it when women are confident. My ex husband once made his own Facebook fan page with photo albums of “his” cover stories. They were all written by me. His answer was that he was the reason I was a good writer, so they were kind of his. Before I started at my new job, a male colleague at my old job told me not to get a big head when my performance was commended, it was a team effort and don’t think you’re so perfect. Agreeing with a compliment makes you a vain bitch. We’re taught that a woman only has worth if a man sees it, and that is bullshit. 


I read a lot of comments from men about why women should just say thank you, be humble, stop being full of themselves. But why is it that when a woman thinks she is smart and pretty and worthy of love an attention, she’s suddenly unworthy of attention. This trope is common in pop culture. Look at One Direction. The girl is only beautiful BECAUSE SHE HAS NO IDEA THAT SHE IS BEAUTIFUL. Had she known, then Zayn wouldn’t have found her so attractive (sorry Gigi). Every teen movie is the same; the pretty, popular girl is a bitch and the nerd is only pretty when a guy tells her that she is. What a great lesson girls! You’re only amazing when a boy tells you that you’re amazing!

It makes me wonder why the world continuously forces the idea that women who are assertive and aware of their value are somehow bad. Why should we only feel pretty because a man tells us we’re pretty? Why should we only giggle and say thank you? Why can’t we know our own value? We wonder why girls have low self esteem, but then they’re inundated with the idea that confidence = lack of humility and women are only desirable when they’re innocent and unaware of who they really are until their prince comes to sweep them off of their feet. Why do we need that? To me, that feels like we’re encouraging low self esteem and breeding controlling and abusive relationships. That’s how we end up being told “without me, you’re nothing,” and we believe it. Why? Because we’re taught that feeling good about who you are makes you vain and conceited and no one wants that. Be the quiet, meek, girl who doesn’t know she’s gorgeous. That’s how you end up with Freddie Prinze Jr. instead of all alone. 

We need to start telling ourselves that we’re beautiful and stop waiting for Freddie Prinze jr. or an online creeper to tell us that we’re pretty. Like Ms. Jones said, agree with compliments. It’s a good way to weed out the men from the weak minded jerks. The one who respects your confidence is the one who will elevate you to be the best version of you, by supporting you, not trying to reshape you into some stepford simpleton who giggles and falls at their feet because they said you’re pretty. 

I know I’m pretty. I’m really smart too. I’m good at my job. I’m pretty okay at crossfit and my running times improve. I can carry a tune pretty well and my hair is super cute. I don’t need anyone to tell me these things and you don’t need anyone to tell you either, because despite what Harry Styles says, you DO know you’re beautiful & that’s what makes you beautiful. 

Work Bitch

by maryhelenc, posted in Fitnesslicious, Just Fun, Life, MusicIsLifeIsMusicIsLife

For those of you who are new to my world, let me catch you up to speed; I am absolutely terrified of geese. Every once in awhile, I try to pretend that the geese aren’t scary af, but in the end, I always go right back to remembering that geese are the minions of Satan, and are probably out to get me. 


Anywho, I often see these dark creatures of evil while I’m running and I normally turn around and run home. Why? Because I don’t want to die. Duh. But yesterday, I was feeling pretty buoyed by the Oilers big win and wanted to get my 5K in. So, I’m running and feeling all good about myself when up ahead I see…that’s right, the feathered horror itself; Mr. Goose. But, as fate would have it, my playlist switched to the greatest icon of my generation; Britney Spears. 


If you’ve lived under a rock, let me bring up to speed: Britney Spears is an icon. Anyone you consider an icon that isn’t Britney means that you are wrong. Deep down, everyone likes Britney Spears. You know that you secretly mouth the lyrics to Baby One More Time when you’re alone. It’s okay. But I digress. So, I’m running, and Britney’s Stronger comes on. Again, I don’t care who you are, if Britney Spears’s Stronger comes on, and you don’t feel like a bad bitch, then who are you really. Suddenly, I’m an invincible goddess, much like Britney. If she can survive 2007, I can survive a damn goose! So I jog right past that feathery fucker and keep on going. I can run 5K. Why? Because I slay. Queen Britney has empowered me. 


I’ve always said that music can change your mood. That’s why my running playlist is mostly hard rock, Britney Spears, and also Brie Bella’s entrance music (which is also my ring tone, because it’s the best thing ever). 

Stuff like this keeps me pumped up. Unlike Crossfit, where I have coaches and teammates to keep me motivated; I have only myself. Sometimes, I want to just give up early. I’m tired. I’m not feeling it. My hips are sore. Whatever. But I can’t do that or I’ll never progress or get triathlon ready. So, I use music that will elevate my spirits and keep me energized to finish my run, just like I choose music during my day to pick me up. Back to the story, I was doing so well. I was making great time, I had Britney Spears and Brie Mode, I was the fittest person ever. I was fearless guys, FEARLESS. I was almost positive that no goose would scare me off from my run…

Almost

Okay, so maybe I wasn’t invincible. But part of life means putting on your big people pants and putting up with stuff we don’t like. For me, it’s geese. Eventually, I’ll get to the point where they aren’t terrifying…or I’ll use my fear to run faster. Maybe. 

The Cure

by maryhelenc, posted in Fitnesslicious, Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me

What’s new? 

I’m really freaking tired. 

Part of this is because I’m currently participating in my annual May kick start; no caffeine, no fast food, no alcohol for thirty days (mother’s day is my one cheat day). It’s awful. I don’t drink, consume pop or coffee (often), but let me tell you that Red Bull is fantastic and I need more of it in my life. Also, did you know that tea is caffeinated? AND I LOVE THAT IT IS CAFFEINATED?! Fortunately my beloved Raspberry Mojito from David’s Tea is sans caffeine so I’ll be chugging that every second of my life thank you very much. 

Likely my blood

But I’m also too damn busy. I’ve managed to build up quite the little writing career. I used to just pitch articles, now people come to me and ask me to write their stuff. It’s like I have connections and stuff. I have a lineup of articles that need writing and submitting. I’m focusing on my day job because I want to be a success there. I spend my days off with the kids, or at the gym with the kids, or running. I literally have no free time. Add in no caffeine and MH goes something something. 


But I know I’m putting too much pressure on myself. I’m a sole support parent. I haven’t received child support in over two years. I can’t even get help to buy a loaf of bread, let alone help with birthdays or anything else. He’s always broke and too busy inventing conversations with our girls for the internet than actually being a dad. When I ask him when he plans to work, he hides behind the depression he won’t get help for, despite having universal health care for doctors and counselling through a hospital, and drug benefits for medication (which is totally an insult to those with an actual mental illness who fight, scratch, and claw every day to get healthier and live their lives. Two of my dearest friends are bipolar and they have more strength in them to get through one day then I probably do my whole life). 

Me when I hear another excuse

So that means everything is on me. All of it. I have to pay for hot lunches and class trips and birthdays and trips for ice cream and rent. I have to think about summer clothes and new sandals while he washed his hands of parental responsibility years ago. Drinking and partying are more important. So, I need to be successful to make sure they have everything that they need. This means that I go into every shift feeling like I need to sell as many phones as I can in order to get that commission to help support us. I have to complete as many articles as possible so that we have extra money, because it’s up to me to be mom and dad. But because I’m putting so much pressure on myself to be the best, I’m kind of falling off. I need to take deep breaths and relax (such a novel concept I know!), because all of this pressure to be the best cell phone helper boss lady/journalist/mom that is also dad/crossfit athlete that I’m not enjoying any of it! I’m literally living my dream life (minus the part where I am rich and married to Seth Rollins) and I’m not enjoying it because I keep putting all of this pressure on myself to be the best. 

So, tomorrow, I am going to go to work and I’m going to have fun. I’m working with my favourite co-worker (who is across the hall) and my two favourite members of the leadership team, so it’s going to be a great day. I’m going to use Sunday to go for a walk with my girls & feed ducks (but not geese because fuck geese), and then write my articles and meet my deadlines. Then I’m gonna relax. You can’t be successful if you’re under pressure. My boss, editors, they’re not putting me under pressure. It’s all me. I am putting myself under pressure, all because I want my family to thrive. 


It’s time for me to enjoy what I’ve built. I have the best life. My kids rule. My writing career is amazing. I have the best store and work with the best humans (or they’re across the hall from me, being the best humans). I put in all of this work to get here and I’ve gotta work to maintain it, but if I keep putting all of this pressure on myself, it’ll all cave in. So, no more taking on the weight of the world because I’m the only one holding it up. I’m going to embrace my life and enjoy what I’ve built, completely on my own, with no one to take credit for what I’ve built ever again.