I’m on this big self help kick lately, so let’s keep it going, shall we?
I was out for dinner with a friend who said, at our age (early to kid thirties), any long term relationship may be our last shot at love so we kind of gotta hold onto them. I disagree. I think everyone has a chance to find their one, whether they’re 21, 33, or 102. I refuse to define my life by my age. I can understand feeling the fear if you’re getting closer to the big 3-0 or 3-5 & you’re not married, not even close, or whatever. But, I can’t look @ my life that way. I need to think positively so positivity follows suit. I refuse to allow negativity or fear to penetrate my state of mind. Maybe that’s why I disagree. Who knows?
But I do know one thing I’ve learned is that to attract the right mate you have to be the right mate. You need to hack out the negativity , negative influences & focus on making yourself the most desirable person you can be for you as well as a mate. After all, you’re stuck with you forever, people can leave. So, I’ve been focused on making myself the type of person I want to be so the right type of person will appear in my life. Makes sense, right?
This is why I’m so focused on health, fitness, etc. It’s not just to show my daughters the right way, it’s to evolve into a person I love so others can love me. It doesn’t matter how many times the man in my life says “you’re not fat,” I THINK I AM FAT. I can keep making excuses for being overweight or I can do something about it. For twelve years I’ve said this is the year I’m going to get back to my pre-pregnancy body, and every year I’ve made excuses. No mas. I’m working harder than I ever have & I’m using the Facebook group my friend Yogi created for accountability. I will succeed this time. Once I can look in the mirror & think I’m beautiful, more people will see it.
But true beauty is on the inside too. This is the other reason I’m focused; exercise makes me not crazy. No more panic attacks. No more hyper focused & annoying MHC. I’m much more chill. I’ve often said the man who chooses to put up with me & my general kookiness deserves a medal, well, I need to change that mindset. I should think a guy is privileged to be with me, just like I see him. I will never be the easiest person to love , but I’m making it easier. However, if I make it seem like it’s a horrible challenge, then I’m sabotaging my own romances before they start. I need to look @ myself as a dating jackpot, the living Tal Bachman song, not a simpering moron. By doing this, I’ll attract people who see me this way.
By making myself into the person I want to be, I’ll attract the person that’s right for me. Maybe it won’t be until I’m 102. But I don’t believe there is a time limit on love. If it’s right; it’s right & it may not come easy. You may have to try again or you may be alone for a long time while you enjoy a relationship with the only person you truly can count on; yourself. Either way, it’ll happen if you remain optimistic & create the life you want for yourself. Then you’ll find the person who compliments it, & you’ll be truly happy.
This is my life in a nutshell. That’s not true; my life is parent, work, work out, sleep, repeat. But I’m focused on making my life better one day @ a time. It’s important to me to make my fresh start in my new city a successful one, so I’m focusing on all the areas of my life that need to change so I can build a better life for myself & my daughters.
I take a lot of flack & I see your subtweets where you call me annoying & I read the “you’re a prude” texts but I’m very focused on being a role model for my daughters. They see what I do & emulate. It’s why I’m focusing on keeping my house clean, because if they see slovenly Mama, they’ll do it. If I don’t promote healthy living, they won’t do it. If I act like casual sex is cool & I need to “get mine,” they won’t see their bodies as temples. Children see & how I treat others, how I date, all of this is what they will learn. Kids are watching even when you think they aren’t & I’m determined to teach them kindness, empathy, wellness, self love. A womanizer dad teaches his daughter she is an object. An abusive man teaches his daughters it’s right for men to hit women. A doormat mama teaches her daughters that she has no value. This applies in reverse. I consider how all my choices affect my girls. It’s why I struggle with this dating thing, because I need to know by the end of date one if I’d want you to be part of their lives someday. The answer is always no. So, dating is going to continue to take a backseat. Besides, why enter a relationship that I’ll end in four months? That’s stupid.
I can’t just keep focusing on strengthening the body, although it does wonders for anxiety levels…and my butt. I need to start living smarter. I need to show my girls how to live smarter, interact smarter. That includes being less of a doormat. Part of this is dating smarter, which is why I bought THIS.
Yes, cue the laughter but every man I’ve ever loved is a toxic man. I always knew this & thought loving them would make it okay. The silent treatment would stop because if I loved him & accepted it, he’d finally learn to communicate. The violence would stop because if I loved him, he’d quell his rage & go get help. If I loved him, he’d stop running & coming back because he’d make up his damn mind & stop keeping me on the hook. For months I held on to all of this self defeat, because none of these men saw my love as good enough. Then one day I realized that they don’t love anyone; themselves, their children, me, enough to look @ how they sabotage their lives, make messes, fall into patterns of self loathing, serial womanizing, & generally crushing the world around them. I loved them the best I could, but they’re toxic; they need to fix it, not me. It’s not about me; I can’t make someone stop hurtful behaviour with love. If they did love me, they would be here. If they loved themselves & their children, they’d work @ stuff. They’d have made the doctor’s appointments & gotten the counselling. They’d have told me what was bothering them when it was a minor issue & not shut me out for weeks until it was a huge, made up issue & ran. They wouldn’t have manipulated me for months after the relationships ended & watched me cry, whether it was from the window across the street or from my blog. That’s not love; it’s control.
I can’t show my daughters that it’s okay for men to mow them down & destroy them. My job is to show them the right way. My job is to teach them to love themselves first & foremost & the rest comes as it should. So, I need to stop choosing men that cannot love themselves, because they cannot love me. Right now, I cannot love a man because for over a year, I’ve hated myself. I hated myself because I blamed myself for the actions of others. He left me because he’s perfect & I’m a terrible girlfriend. That friend is mean because I’m a bad friend. So I gave more & more to others & left nothing for me. That’s not a good example for my girls @ all! So, I’m dedicating myself to loving who I am so I can love someone else someday. But when you continuously hurt people that love you, over & over again. When you cut out people who care about you; friend or lover & it’s over a minor, easily fixed issue, or something made up, you need to ask yourself…what’s wrong with you, not them. I had to ask myself what was wrong with me, what poor choices do i make in my relationships with men & friends. I chose toxic men & friends & felt depressed when they’d hurt me because I never got angry. I never told people when they made me angry because I didn’t want to hurt their feelings (or risk them leaving me). I never stood up for myself so I invited cruelty & hurtful behaviour in. I never said “You need to talk to me about stuff because I’m sick of this crap. I love you, but I’m doing all of the work. Talk to me. Try a little. Stop setting every relationship up for failure & hiding everything until you panic. Trust me,” because they’d leave me. I never said “you know what? I find you are a non-supportive friend & your continuous mocking of my makeup, hair & weight makes me feel insecure.” I never said “if you don’t like being in the middle, don’t put yourself there. Tell him to talk to me & give him my number & butt the eff out. You’re always in the middle because you cross boundaries & revel in the drama you create. Then you play victim to all of the guys because you can’t keep girlfriends but it’s because you Stab them in the back, meddle in their affairs, talk poorly about everyone you know & I don’t know why I keep trying to be your friend, but I do because I think you’re a good person underneath & I care & I want the friendship we used to have.” But I never did that because people would get mad & I feared anger. I continued to cultivate relationships with people who are toxic because I loved them & didn’t want to lose them, but it didn’t discuss things or work on anything. I just blamed myself. It had to be my fault; & it was because I set the standard that this is okay. I accepted responsibility for their actions instead of accountability for mine (like yes, I let my triple broken heart seep into the rest of my life, making it almost impossible up breathe or allowing the silent treatment to send my insecurities & anxieties through the roof, making me insufferable. I couldn’t handle pain, I fixated on minor things. I allowed sadness to take over my life. I needed to work on the things I do that drive people crazy, like the insecurities & low self esteem. Those are things I was doing wrong & I accept that). But that’s toxic too. Believing that love will fix someone’s demons is toxic. Letting people step on you & then languishing feeling like a victim even though I never stood up for myself is toxic. Victimizing myself is toxic. So, I won’t be a victim. I’ll stand up for myself & if friendships, relationships die, well, I’ll remember the amazing memories & wish you well in your life & move forward in my journey. Now, I’m cool with getting angry. I’m not going to coddle & worship anyone again. I’ll still love like I do & give like I do, but I’m not going to gloss over flaws or tell you jerky behaviour is okay. It’s all about living smarter, by learning how to identify what I do not want in a person & how to avoid making the same mistakes over again.
One thing that I’ve stressed over the last three years is that I like to be in control of my own life.
Not “let’s make MH think she’s in control while we make her think what we want is her idea” or “let’s keep MH guessing so she feels out of control of her life,” but legit in control of my life.
Unfortunately, life rarely allows me the pleasure of being 100% in control of my life. The girls’ schedules & routines, my work schedule, and the insane things that could only happen to me seem to keep things from following my master plan. Things like the clusterf*ck move from Hell (it hasn’t even happened yet & this is how I feel haha), the first date that became a last date, all of these things keep me from feeling like I’m in the driver’s seat. It’s times like this when I feel like the universe is trying to tell me something & I get annoyed and all weepy & whiny & stuff. Yuck.
So, I changed that.
I decide to take my mind of the stressful things I cannot control & throw myself into things I can, like fitness. I’m working out seven days a week as well as doing a 30 day squat challenge. I’m focusing on my diet & healthy choices & watching what I eat. I’m trying new recipes & things. Next month I’m starting a 30 day ab challenge to go with my workouts. I’m super excited about it too.
I cannot control crazy things, people, things that seem crazy. But I can stop letting the stressors get to me by channelling that into something that makes me feel & look better, not to mention helps me feel in control of myself. I’m making decisions about food, exercise, etc. while setting a good example for the girls, improving my overall mental health through yoga and endorphins & the feeling like I’m still in control of my life helps me sift through the day to day weirdness with a happy smile! Also, I’ll have an amazing ass. This helps.
Instead of trying to control the world, I’ll control myself & make improvements that will help me make the right choices to get through the move & my “change at a moment’s notice” work schedule and all the things that come with parenting. Maybe I’ll be less anal retentive…
…or I’ll just be anal retentive with a killer ass. That works too.
I wanted to kick off 2014 with a big announcement, so here goes;
I’m really freaking happy.
I feel the need to stress that there is nothing new or exciting about my life. Yes, I have a date with someone I’m really attracted to, but we all know what happens on my first dates hahaha. I do not have a new media gig, I do not have a house (but my trip at the end of the month should fix that). There is nothing new or different about my life. I’m happy because I choose to be.
Last July, when the Texan & I started the ASH Life, a multi authoured parenting blog, I had reached a really confusing point in my life. I had cut ties with people I saw as my best friends, but I didn’t miss them & felt like I should (I do miss one of them now, and hope they like their life & maybe someday we’ll apologize for being douchers & trash talk movies & be life mates again) & I was in the midst of dealing with a lump in my breast & other health issues & I wasn’t terribly happy. So, I started aggressively writing out my feelings & I felt better. When I was done & I got good news about the lump, I decided that I was going to make myself happy. The reason I wasn’t happy was because I wanted others to do what I did for them. I was tasking them with making me happy. It worked, but what one giveth, one taketh away. They would take my joy away & watch me crumble on the sidelines & feel powerful. So, I chose to make myself powerful.
I stopped blaming myself for why people are douchebags. I stopped trying to reconcile friendships or maintain them with toxic people. They would get in the middle of my interpersonal relationships or force their opinions on me & then get angry @ me for being in the middle or because I would fall to pieces because they dangled things in front like a carrot. They toyed with my emotions or were dishonest & those are their actions. I didn’t make you do it; you chose to. I slip up sometimes, but I had to stop internalizing the actions of others & feeling like I make people do bad things. People do bad things because they suck & I allow it. So, I stopped allowing. I stopped rationalizing people’s behaviour away & focused on my own. How am I treating people? Am I walking my walk? Am I the role model I want to be for my daughters? The answer was no. I was becoming a needy sad sack dependant on others for survival & draining, so I needed to check myself.
To check myself I focused on what I needed to do to be happy. People laughed @ my choice not to date, but I’m so glad I did it because I got to know myself. If I wanted to feel pretty, I had to tell myself I was pretty. When I was sick, I had to take care of myself. When I was sad, I had to cheer myself. I had to depend on myself, and the more I did it, the more I learned to like myself. I can’t expect someone to love me if I hate myself. This is what everyone does; we hope the love of another person will heal our past pain or fill the void of that rejection or mask that we hate ourselves & we destroy those who love us the most. I refuse to join that cycle so I went into my shell. But by going into the shell, I realized I was in a relationship. I was with myself & I need to cultivate that one.
I took care of myself & found joy in everything from my daughters to a great Christina Aguilera song (hail Queen Xtina). I stopped accepting responsibility for other’s actions and focused on accountability for my own. And one day, I realized I was truly happy. I said this on this blog once before, but the difference is that no man or beast has made me happy. I’ve chosen to make myself happy every day. Even if the day sucks, I’ll find something and no one can take this sunshine away, because I made it myself.
I hope each and every person reading this right now finds their own happiness. I stress your own, because even if you’re partnered or not, a parent or you have a cat , it’s YOUR job to bring yourself joy. Revel in that job. It’s the best one you’ll have.
***I apologize in advance that this is all kinds of ADD. I have about four things that I’m thinking of and they’re all like minded. We’ll see how this works out.***
My decision to start dating again had a lot to do with the fact that I was interested in a guy I met casually by chance. He was cute, seemed funny, and he was the first man in 15 months that appealed to me…until I got to know him. We had literally NOTHING in common. He didn’t care for pop culture (you know, how I makes my livings when I’m not schilling phones), thought the media was biased, only liked documentaries, and didn’t understand how one good song makes life magical. So, when I mentioned that maybe we were meant to be friends, he said his only interest in life was me…ew. I like having a life separate from the men I date. I don’t like us sharing friends, I like being able to go out with my friends if I want while he’s out with the guys, no asking “permission,” etc. So, it was curtains.
That’s how it works. One tiny mistake, or tell me one thing I don’t like and out you go. I guess it’s why I recognize it in others, because it’s what I do. My friends tell me it’s because I’m still standing by the water, frantically trying to say the right thing (without saying the one thing I cannot say), stammering with tears trying to fix what I didn’t know was broken, but the truth is, I’ve always been fairly closed off and now it’s worse. My best friend the Psych Major mentioned that because she didn’t feel nutured as a child, she loves to cuddle now. I’m the opposite. I’m detached. My marriage wasn’t a love match and I’m afraid of going through the motions and finding myself wishing I could blow out my brains than spend one more second in this loveless joke where we fight and hate life. I’m also afraid to fall in love. Because if I do, we’ll plan a life and he’ll leave me…and I’ll have to start over again. Because I’m hard to love and I don’t want to fall in love and risk them leaving me again. I’m scared of giving someone my blind, unconditional love & them throwing it back in my face like it was nothing…like I was nothing. I’m sure eventually I’ll get over that fear, I’m working on it, but right now, you likely are sent packing after that one mistake.
My girlfriend challenged me about my love life and I realized I’ve always been the dumb girl with the long term crushes, aside from that guy in high school I crushed on and Gigi and I laugh about it to this day. My first crush was on my friend’s boyfriend’s brother when I was 15. I crushed on that guy all through high school and when I ran into him at the beach 4 years later, I jumped @ the chance to date him to make my ex boyfriend jealous (Trust me, I learned how BAD an idea that is). That boyfriend I was interested in for two years before I made a move. My ex husband was the only guy I sort of just fell into a relationship with. Even my quasi attraction to my former best guy friend simmered for a year and even then, there was another man that held my interest, so much so that I was a total bitch and wouldn’t even add him on Facebook because I was married and I shouldn’t have been thinking such impure thoughts. I’m always a long term, awkward, I want this but I’m too chicken to do anything sort of girl.
This made me think of the kinds of men I would want and I realized that it’s a guy like Christian Bale.
It’s not just because he’s the hottest guy on the planet. It’s because he tears up talking about his loving, supportive, patient wife Sibi Blazic. He doesn’t need to flaunt her and his daughter everywhere. In fact, no one even knew his daughter’s name until a couple of years ago. He wants to keep their marriage private and away from the meddlers and the instigators. He even cut his mom and sister out of his life to protect Blazic from their unkind thoughts. He adores her, worships her, is happy that she accepts his temper and physical transformations for work and the separations and loves her. He loves her so much that he breaks down in interviews talking about her. Candid photos show him opening doors for her, pulling out chairs, etc. They do their charity work in private. He may yell @ sound techs and sound like a douchebag in interviews, go through dramatic weight losses (the Machinist) or gains (American Hustle) to play a part, but the reason Christian Bale is the hottest man on Earth is because he respects his wife and daughter.
So, I want someone like that, but I’m so afraid that if I fall, they’ll leave me like everyone else I’ve driven away by you know, the crazy. So, I want someone to share my life with, but I won’t look, I hold them to unrealistic expectations, send them packing the minute they displease me and I still leave that front light on. This probably means I shouldn’t be actively pursuing a relationship, so it’s for the best that I’m not. I just don’t know how to let go of that fear of that boring, blah life that I hated or getting my heart broken again. Also, part of me likes my life. I like being alone. I love being left alone. I like that I’m home almost every night. I like that no one is nitpicking my life under the guise of “helping me.” I like that I talk to my friends once a week or so and I’m good. I like that I play with my kids and hang with the angriest tween @ night and I sleep alone and sprawl like a starfish. For my entire adult life people have controlled me. First my ex fiance, then my former husband, then my own best friend (which everyone noticed but me) and I don’t want to give up control of my life. If I could have my independence, and a partner, that would be kind of awesomesauce. But I don’t feel lonely, like there’s a void. So, these are the new things I need to work on so I can continue to be the most awesomest MHC I can be…or unless Christian Bale calls (although he breaks my dad rule). I also need to get this move done and out of the way and get situated in my new life before I think about adding anything to it.
But I think it’s a good thing. It’s good that I’m not afraid to be alone. I don’t fear life thinking I’ll die without a companion. I love my life & I love that it’s MY life & that I do things MY way. I love that I make my own choices & I’m working on loving my body image & I’ve even embraced that I’ll always be a little skittish, a little anxious & that I need to work on those things. I needed to work on not allowing my friends to take over my life, interfere because I’m a shy bunny who needs protecting. I needed to learn that I matter too & I can’t expect someone to make me happy because I give them the world. I have to make me happy. But I like me & that will help me when I’m finally no longer gun shy about falling in love again. Because I know I’m awesome & you should too. Like Katy Perry said recently, this time helped me love me so that the right person can love me the way I deserve & I’ll find my John Mayer (only not Douchey) & we’ll realize that “Who You Love” was about us too.
Every morning when my alarm goes off, I hit snooze.
But I don’t roll over & go back to sleep like everyone else. I instead, sit up, and say my morning prayers. I thank God that I’m alive & healthy in a world where so many aren’t. I thank God for my girls & I thank him for my job & my talents & for another day. Then I meditate with my “MH affirmations,” which are reminders that I’m a strong, beautiful woman with a lot of great character traits & that I deserve to be happy. Most of my life, I have put my own happiness aside to please others; my friends, my partners & once they took what they wanted, they left. My happiness never mattered. They kept me under clouds of funk so they could keep me as super nice MH and when I fought back & demanded to matter too, it was curtains. So, I decided instead to remind myself every morning that I deserve to be happy & I’m going to make myself happy because that’s my job as a person. I tasked myself with the job of making everyone else happy & then would be sad that no one wanted to make me happy too. So, I’ve learned that my job in life is to make myself happy & love me more than anyone else could.
When I was first diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, my former best friends called me mentally unstable & said I needed to be medicated for the rest of my life. Too bad like everything else they say when it relates to me, they were wrong. Antidepressants aren’t right for me. They make me loopier, more panicky. So, my doctor weaned me off of them, as much like birth control, they just don’t work. Instead, exercise, herbal remedies & better eating controls the panic attacks. But my hippie friend reminded me that one of the major things that helps her is positive self talk. Loving yourself is the first step to feeling good about yourself.
I am not in any way dogging antidepressants. They’re wonderful & helpful; I just happen to be among that 1% that ends up with the horrible thoughts like the commercial says. So, this works for me. I have only had one panic attack since April & I’m feeling emotionally stronger. The main reason is that I no longer believe that I’m a second class citizen. I deserve love. I deserve respect. I deserve to be treated the way I treat people. I deserve to be happy & I will make myself happy by raising happy girls & setting the right example & with my writing & if you don’t like that I’m putting myself first, then you’re welcome to vacate my life. There are more than enough friends & loved ones who do appreciate that for the first time, the only adult I’m looking out for is me.
So, each morning, I’ll hit the snooze & I’ll thank the universe that I get another day to enjoy it. Then I’ll remind myself that I’m pretty & strong & capable of moving mountains. I’m a worthy partner to any man. I’m a good mother & an awesome friend. I’m the best in the world @ what I do, which is write things that make people think. I’m also really good @ my day job. I may not believe these things every second of every day, but I’m going to try so that I can keep making myself happy & create my own happily ever after.
Thanks y’all for your awesome feedback to my open letter to my future soulmate, making it my most successful blog post ever! I appreciated the emails & texts from people mentioning it was cute…oh, & that dude on Twitter who DM’ed me a proposal? It was a letter, not an application, but hey, thanks!
Anywho, since the rest of my life revolves around deciding where to move (London, Cambridge & Guelph are the top options) while listening to the peanut gallery explain why I should stay here, despite my previous statement that there is nothing that could keep me in Windsor (aside from “winning @ life” hahaha), and scrambling to get Christmas together for the littles while working retail sucks the fun out of the holiday for me, I figure I’ll keep going on this subject, as the move & the peanut gallery & the choices have too many facets for me to adequately express right now. I’d rather write something lighthearted. & silly. I’m not looking for a partner; they’re going to find me & it’s going to be amazeballs. Hell, maybe you read this blog (unlikely) & you’re wondering “am I this crazy girl’s soulmate? Because sure she’s pretty, but she’s a bit loony & scatterbrained.” Well, it’s possible, I guess. So, I’ve compiled a list of things that seem to exist in all of the men I date (& the things I want) & created this handy dandy guide to determining if you are MH’s soulmate!
***Disclaimer: Handy Dandy guide is for entertainment purposes only***
1. You’ve read my writing. Oh, you didn’t just read this, you read ALL OF IT. I’m not kidding. You’ve read both of my blogs, you’ve read every published byline, you actively make plans to read my future work. You love my work, you think it’s awesome. My words connect with you, resonate with you, make you think. You ask me about my work. You understand that these words are not just random ideas that I come up with; they’re my heart & soul & source of pride. My soulmate will read my work one day & tell me that something I wrote helped him understand me better, himself better or brought us closer.
2. You love my girls. Duh. But you understand them. You know their interests. You know which one is afraid of the blow dryer. You know which one loves the Saints. You know which one cries @ the same scene of Harry Potter & the Philosopher’s Stone. You know which one is going to take over the word & which one hates stripes. You know them as well as you know me. You know how important it is to me to be Supermom & you’ll understand. You’ll want to be a part of their lives & you will eventually, but I need to know that you get that they come with the deal, their dad is emotionally abusive to them & they’ll come to see you as a father figure too. That will mean something to you & soon you’ll be bragging about their cuteness, report cards et al just like I do.
3. You’re probably f***ed in the head. When I say someone is screwed up, I generally don’t mean it to be as insulting as it sounds. It means that you likely have a past, a tonne of baggage, trust issues, self sabotage issues, commitment issues, etc. I have them all too. I try to be empathetic to everyone, because I’ve been written off so many times because sometimes I’m a dark, melancholy person. This is why the people I love get infinite chances; no one should feel written off by someone that they trust. Not to mention anyone can love someone “normal.” I’m not normal. I’m scarred & fragile. It takes a special man to love me, so I want to love your scarred & fragile right back.
4. You’re stubborn. I sure am! Once my mind is made up, there’s no turning back. I need someone just as set in those convictions. A passion for Canadian and American politics would help.
5. You’ll talk to me. Tell me I’m being a douche, or crazy, or to shut up. I may cry. Oh well. My soulmate knows that I’m an annoying brat & loves me. He knows we’ll fight & he’ll piss me off but we’ll get through it with communication. He also knows that I won’t start the conversation after a fight or my feelings have been hurt because stubborn. He’ll need to suck it up & talk to me.
6. Music. You’ll like everything. Even crap I hate. I’ll make fun of it. But music is a huge part of my life. All of my blog post titles are song titles of what I’m listening to (today: Rascal Flatts). I spent years training to become a singer. My daughters are talented musicians. I need you to love music & sing along with the radio, even if you’re tone deaf. I used to joke that I would marry the man that could make me stop talking when he sang (because nothing stops me from talking) & could play the piano & in high school, said my dream proposal would be someone who played & sang me a song while it was snowing outside (I watched a lot of Full House. Uncle Jesse…swoon). Maybe someone will give Gavin DeGraw my number.
7. You’ll like sports. Don’t get me wrong, I won’t give a crap & I’ll roll my eyes when you talk, but I like guys who like sports & drink beer and go out with the guys & eat red meat & do guy things.
8. You’ll get that love takes work. You’ll get that sometimes I’ll hate your face. You’ll get that sometimes you’ll hate mine. You’ll get that times get hard. But you’ll try because I know I will. I fought for 8 years to make a marriage work while covered in bruises. Imagine how hard I’ll work to make it work if it’s healthy.
9. You won’t like geese. Okay, maybe you will. But I’m not feeding them.
10. You’ll be prone to random but awesome romantic gestures. Show up @ my door @ 1am because you just needed to see me. Buy me movie tickets just because. Send me a cute text saying you miss me. I expect these rarely, but it’d be nice.
11. You’ll “get” me. You’ll understand how I think. You’ll get that I don’t mean to be crazy. You’ll even find the crazy a little endearing. You’ll know that I mean well when I generally make a mess of everything & you’ll try to understand. You’ll let me fix my own mess & support me from the sidelines, because you know how important it is for me to do it on my own.
If this sounds like you, this either means;
a) you have a huge ego.
b) you are potentially my soulmate.
c) you’re going to give Gavin DeGraw my number.
Please let it be C!
Either way, I know what I want & deserve & this is the type of man I want & when the time is right, this is who I’ll end up with. I need to be finicky, as I have daughters who deserve the best possible stepfather & I think I’ve been hurt enough thank you very much. I think looking for love only impedes the process. Real love is that person in your mind that you can’t stop thinking about, etc. & it’s organic & unavoidable & it’ll happen. Not likely until after I get my butt out of Windsor into a new house & settled. & established & maybe with a shiny new byline. But it’ll happen…& now I know what I’m looking for.
I’ve been thinking a lot about dating lately, mainly because my friend is doing a lot of it. She’s on a new first date almost every weekend. I wish I could be that person sometimes; the person who can detach themselves until they’re ready to get attached, I’m not sure why. But I’m not. I’m just that one man girl. However, as I (hopefully) move into my new home (as house hunting has become a clusterf*ck), I realize that I need to be open to the idea of falling in love again. I don’t think I’m ready just yet, but in case I do meet someone in my new city, I need to be open to the idea that my Mr. Right is there somewhere. So, over the last few weeks, I’ve been focusing on finding a house, letting go of the life I knew & opening myself up to the idea of dating again.
I know there is a right person out there for me. I don’t know if I’ve met them, if I haven’t, but they are somewhere. But I figure he should be prepared for what life with me will be like, so I wrote this letter.
Dear Soulmate,
I don’t know if I’ve met you yet. Maybe I did. Maybe we’ve dated & messed it up & the universe keeps trying to make it right. Maybe you’re the hot guy @ the Wind Mobile store who gave me directions while house hunting last month. Maybe you’re one of those first dates I never gave a chance. Maybe you’re a childhood friend I’ll casually bump into. Maybe you’re someone I’ve never met & when I do, I’ll know why everyone before you sucked. But once the universe puts us together, I wanted to let you know a few things so we can work.
1. My kids & my writing come first. Always. These are my true loves & I need to put them first. They were here before you. They’ll be here after you. I don’t expect you to raise my girls, but if you meet them, I expect you to love them. If you promise them something, keep it. Be good to them. Treat them the way you would want me to treat your family. They are sweet, wonderful children & they will love you so much. Don’t break their hearts. Respect my writing. Know it’s my life. Be proud of me when I land a great story because I’ll be thrilled to death.
2. My life is generally a chaotic mess of my own making. I’m trying; really. If you could just stick around & gently help me learn the values of organization & time management instead of tsk tsking, I’d really appreciate it.
3. I’m good in a crisis, but little things tear me to pieces. There’s a reason, and someday I’ll tell you.
4. I will always be afraid that you’ll leave me. ALWAYS. It’s not that I won’t trust you, it’s just I’m always afraid of losing people. It’ll make me clingy sometimes. Just sit me down & look me in the eye & tell me to chill out because you love me & it’ll be okay.
5. Please don’t ask my friends how to talk to me, or to relay info to me. Please talk to me. Things get messed up that way. Let’s keep everything between us (& with your permission, high level blog fodder).
6. I won’t get jealous per say, but I will tell you if something is bothering me. I will also trust you to handle those situations in a way that you see fit. I don’t tell men what to do. I explain why it bugs me & trust you. I don’t see the point in getting pissy.
7. I’ll have infinite patience for your crap. I’ll give you a million chances & if you’re worth it, take you back if you walk away. Because I love unconditionally, without restrictions & see you for what you are & embrace it. You will be safe & adored with me. You will be treated like Superman.
8. That doesn’t mean treat me like crap either. I’m not going to devalue me for you like I did with all of my other relationships with men. If I’m kissing your ass because I think you’re Prince Charming, than you should treat me like post-slipper Cinderella. You should know that I’m beautiful & special & I deserve to be happy too. You should want to make me as happy as I’m dying to make you & if you don’t want to do that, then you are too selfish to be with ANYONE, least of all me. Relationships are about loving each other, not sucking someone’s love like a sponge & leaving them when your ego is boosted, or expecting someone to be your saviour & make you feel awesome while you are degrading or abusing me. One person shouldn’t be doing all of the giving. I will always give you more, it’s my nature, but I’m not going to accept a man’s complete lack of effort. Love is work. Love is about doing the right thing for the other person, because even if it wasn’t what you might have wanted, you made that person happy. If you try, even a little, I’ll give you the damn world; but I think I’m worth you making me a little happy too. I am smart & pretty & charismatic & charming. I am strong & patient & brave & have survived more than you will ever know. I am driven to succeed & have done well thus far. I am great @ trivia & can use big words in their proper context. I’m well read & elegant, but love wrestling & beer. I’m awesome & I’m worth a lot: I’m worth swallowing pride for. I’m worth admitting you are wrong & I am worth fighting for, even if you’re fighting some internal battle with yourself & if you don’t know that, then there is another man that will & this letter is for him.
9. I’m weird. I sing along with mall music, I’m often immature. I’m a general goofball. I generally have the weight of the world on my shoulders, so when I get to be “free” I like to let loose. I don’t care how much I love you, I will hang up on you during a boss fight while playing Zelda & I strongly recommend backing off on criticizing The Hunger Games trilogy. I’m a proud nerd. I will whip your ass @ Mario Kart & attempt to whip your ass @ Halo & I’ll definitely whip your ass @ Backgammon as I learned from the master; my father. I’ll also do all of this while explaining life lessons found in To Kill a Mockingbird, Edgar Allen Poe & Winnie the Pooh.
Just one of my nerdier moments
10. I'm crazy. General anxiety disorder is the technical term. I have panic attacks. So, when crap goes wrong, I'll freak out. I'll be terrified that everything is wrong. I'll try to pull you closer because I don't want to lose you. I do it to my friends too. Please don't pull away, even if that's your instinct, because it'll make me more afraid, as during these periods I'm as emotionally fragile as a baby bird. Just hold me & talk me through it & I'll go back to being the perfectly understanding girlfriend who doesn't get mad & allows you all of your space in about half an hour. If I am holding on too tightly, tell me. Say "MH, I get it, but chill the eff out because I feel strangled." I'll listen. But I can't do that if you don't tell me. I don't read minds & if you don't tell me what's wrong, I'll get more panicked trying to fix it. Tell me what's going on & we'll work on it together.
11. Sometimes I'm going to need you to be my rock. I'll be yours too. I'll be yours through everything. Just come to me & I'll make it okay. In fact, I'll prally be there more for you than me, because I generally bottle things up until I'm crazy, crying MH. Please find this endearing, or at least tolerable, because no one ever does.
12. I will never pretend to like your sports or your crappy music or that lame show you watch. But I’ll sit through them while making you food & I won’t ask stupid questions. I don’t expect you to like mine either. However, a healthy appreciation for pancakes is appreciated.
15. This may seem like a pretty big list, but I promise you it’s super simple, because I’ll love you more & better than a anyone else pretty much ever. I’ll treat you like you’re the best non-parenting thing that ever happened to me. I’ll gush about you. I’ll be your biggest fan. I’ll be your ally in life and we’ll be a team. I promise I’ll make loving me worth it by giving you everything you ever wanted. But if all else fails, I’m really pretty. That should help a little.
See? Super pretty!
I’m excited to see who you turn out to be. I hope we have an amazing love story, like some Nicholas Sparks level junk. I hope you’ll know how much I love you & how much I’ll value & respect you. I hope you know how much I’ll put up with to make you happy & I hope you’ll do the same for me. I hope you’ll know that I already think you’re amazing & I don’t even know who you are! I hope you’re wondering if you’ll ever meet a person just like me (or how to return to me, or turn friendship into love or if I’ll come back to your Wind Mobile kiosk). Like Katy Perry says, “I know you’re out there & you’re looking for me,” & I hope you come soon, because while I’m cool with single life, I kind of want to stare into your eyes & have my breath taken away.
A good friend of mine sent me this article last week & I’ve been reading it & rereading it for about a week.
I guess it hit home because it could have been written by…me (save for a few parts, as the article references adultery, which was not an issue & some of the character definitions were a little strong. But the jist of it).
For a year I struggled to get over the man I thought was so amazing, but everyone, even his best friends said was a psychopath & a jerk. I just recently wrote a sobbing piece because I love him so much that I would literally do anything for him & he wouldn’t do a damn thing for me. This came after he told my friend he was coming back for me after a year of healing. I couldn’t take the pain anymore. But now, I think I understand.
There was NOTHING I could have done.
He’s too damaged.
He’s too broken.
He’s a narcissist who uses women to feel happy & then crushes them to rebuild an ego broken long ago. He’s as bitter and broken as everyone said. I am very flawed, but this wasn’t me. I could have been PERFECT but it never would have been enough. Like my girlfriend said that night, “he’ll always just want more.”
So, I’m going to do what I was unable to do for so long. Not just because I had been conditioned by him to believe he’d come back, but because of all the things the article said. I feel better, knowing it took others just as long to heal. But now I’m going to find someone who loves me & wants to make me happy too. Because I deserve that.
I can’t promise follow through if he were in front of me, but I would never initiate a conversation if I saw him or even go over to say hi. No. But I’m not going to punish myself for his actions anymore. He proudly manipulated me. That’s him. Not me. It’s not my fault that he’s that person that destroys people. I gave him the best I had; not perfect, but I tried. By his own admission, he never put in a single ounce of effort. He was happy & then when he got spooked, he made the choice not to talk to me & push me away. HE chose to reach out right when I was moving on & then watch my heart break from the sidelines, boosting his ego. He didn’t have to put my friend in the middle, further straining my relationship with someone I’m wondering how much of a friend they were. He could have called, sent flowers with a card, come to my damn door. But no, he needed to feel loved & I was an easy target . He likely needs help (& I wanted to help him so badly), because my friend was right, he’s everything she said he was & I was just another notch, while he was the love of my life…for now. But like 80% of the population, he deflects it on to the women he crushes. Always them. Never him. I wasn’t perfect, but I was good to him. It’s all I wanted to be. I forgave all the jerk stuff. The number of times he walked out for no reason. Gave him a free pass to walk back in. I made mistakes, sometimes I needed reassurance. Sometimes I overreacted. Sometimes I pushed too hard to get to know him because I was so afraid that he’d turn out like the others & physically hurt me. I let my own past scare me & I would get afraid that he’d walk out again that I would try too damn hurt. But I was good to him & his child, better than I had been to any man. But, it’ll always need to be more. Even after all of this time & his claims he manipulated me for fun, etc. I still believed that he was the facade he created. But now I know they were right. He is everything they said & not worth the tears I cried.
So, I’ll meet someone & they’ll be the one. Or the one that sticks. But it doesn’t scare me anymore. Because he’ll never love anyone, not me, not himself, to evaluate why he continues to hit & run, only to look back & reach out & hurt me over & over. I used to believe that he loved me, & that he needs to work on himself because he leaves all of these people in his wake, & that I wanted to help him figure out why he did this to himself so I could give him the emotional support he needed, but I think maybe my friend is right & he’s too screwed up to love someone (or himself) & be happy. He’ll never love anyone, not me, not his child, not himself to admit that underneath all of the narcissism & bravado & vanity, he hates himself & still asks “what if” about every choice he makes. He punishes himself so much for past sins & women for the mistakes the one he loved first made & had he let me in, I would have helped him have the life that he wanted. But he’ll never admit that he hates himself & always hide behind his ego. Every woman will fail him, because he wants everything & nothing & complete control & to never have to make a choice to be second guessed & judged. He’ll never let someone close enough to him to let him see that he doesn’t need to push everyone away, he doesn’t need to play the jerk womanizer. He’ll always want perfection (while giving next to nothing) & no one is perfect. He’ll never see that someone loving him the way he wants isn’t “clingy” or “too invested” & he’ll always hold onto to the ghosts of the few women he did love & that hurt him (or that he hurt) & use that as an excuse for why he hurts women. He’ll always do this, to every woman & hide behind the masks & he’ll never truly be happy. Somehow, that is the saddest part of it all. Because he deserves to be happy. Not “happy with me,” but happy in life, even if his source of happiness was tearing me apart for sport, because while he may have lied, I didn’t. I only wanted him here if he wanted to be, because he loved me & because he knew that no matter what happened, I’d love him unconditionally & I’d do anything to make him happy. But if he didn’t want that, then I wanted him to find what he did want. I only believed it was me because he always found a way to talk about me, observe me. I never chased him, he sought me out, to the point where it strained my friendships because they felt in the middle. I let him go, just like he asked, but he made sure I knew he was around, just close enough to keep his hold but not enough to be here. I didn’t think it was a game; I thought he loved me & didn’t know what he wanted. I thought he was torn between doing the right thing & his own selfish ways. He always said I knew him better than he knew himself, so I thought if I just waited & lived my life, he’d sort through his desire to be the “family man” & “the man whore” & his love for me & my girls would win out in the end. I wanted to give him every chance to come back, finally let me in & I would love the person he truly was. I knew how hard it was for him & I was going to love him so much that he never had to feel like anything less than my Prince Charming. Had he ever shown up, he told me to tell him no, but I wouldn’t have. No, I would have told him that I love him & I understand. I will always understand & I’d hold him & tell him we made mistakes, but we’ll learn & get through it. I was going to give him whatever he needed to feel happy & comfortable & he’d finally have what he always wanted; someone who loved him enough to make him a priority, & look past all of the self sabotage, love him when he’s his worst & take the meanness & see the man he truly is; the vulnerable & sweet person who just wants someone to love them but fears losing them or letting them down, so he has to push them away, hurt them, break their heart so his will never get broken again. I wanted to show him that as he got closer, he wouldn’t get hurt, because I couldn’t hurt him, because it’s not in my nature. Even now, I couldn’t hurt him because I’m in love with him & want him to be happy. I could never have hurt him on purpose & had I by accident, I would have done anything I could to make it up to him. I was going to love him enough to make up for all the women that broke his heart. But, in the end, he’ll always pull away so he doesn’t get hurt again. Kill or be killed…& I got slaughtered. He lied; I didn’t. I meant what I said; I love him & only want the best for him, because he is a good man somewhere in there. The man I love was real. So, I’ll choose to remember the man I love, and not the man he showed me he really was and someday, I hope he becomes the man I saw, because he’s amazing & could change the world. He is the sweet, gentle man I fell in love with & he could be so much more than he allows himself to be, if he would heal the wounds that forced him to become what he is; a broken man who refuses to let anyone near him & pushes away everyone who truly loves him in favour of boosting his ego, not realizing that if he would let someone truly love him, he could be happy, the greatest ego boost of all.
I have a love/hate relationship with social media.
I have enough of it; Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & Tumblr (the last mainly exists for my 12yo to re-blog various photos from her fave shows). Most are controlled, with advanced privacy settings, except for Twitter, because apparently as a writer I need a social media footprint or something.
Then, my mom joined Twitter.
After that, I would have conversations with my mom about my various tweets:
Mom: “are you mad @ me? You tweeted that you’re mad.”
Me: No mother.
Mom: “Why did you tweet about pancakes?”
Me: Because I really like them mother.
Mom: “Why did you re-tweet that sappy thing & what’s a retweet & should I be doing it?”
Me: because I was bored on a bus & it sounded pretty & it’s…no, no you shouldn’t.
(Also, let’s all wave to my mother, who is now a huge fan of this blog. No, I’m not mad @ you. Enjoy Twitter)
But it does annoy me that we have regressed to the point where we think we understand someone’s life from 140 characters or who they follow on Twitter. WWE websites were abuzz when former Diva Maryse Ouellet unfollowed the shared account of current WWE Divas Brie & Nikki Bella. Gasp! What does this mean? That Ouellet is passive aggressive? That the Bella Twins & Ouellet had a falling out? Why is this news? Miley Cyrus unfollowed former fiancé Liam Hemsworth as reports of his serial adultery surfaced. Again, why is Twitter news?
I am not passive aggressive by any stretch of the imagination. I may not be confrontational, but if I’m mad, YOU WILL KNOW. If I want something, you’ll know, because I’ll get it (just ask the good people @ various record labels who told me I couldn’t talk to their artists. I’m like a pitbull. PS with the exception of two, I got every single artist I asked for. My current boss learned this when I said in my interview I was not leaving without that job), and if I have something to say, I’ll tell you. I hate when someone says “Oh hey, I saw on FB that you like pancakes!” (I’ll assume you’re new), because I miss conversations & I hate that social media is sort of replacing it. As a writer, I’m conflicted. I need to have a social media footprint to encourage readers, but I’m also tired of my friends & family using it to learn about me in lieu of talking to me. Not to mention the weird habit of creeping people, etc. Yuck.
Because it annoys me so , I decided to reject all forms of indirect communication. Passive aggressive Facebook statuses (if you do it, you’re unfriended. The end), subtweets, and third party message delivery service. No mas. I’m going to bring back the lost art of conversation if it kills me. Like I told the angry tween, if someone wants to talk to me , I am easily found. My address hasn’t changed (yet), my number either (yet) & thanks to Facebook, generally people know where I am when I’m out socially, which is almost never. Short of me boasting a neon sign that says “MH IS HERE” with an arrow pointing down, I am most definitely not Waldo. I also do not tolerate third party conversations that can get lost in translation. As my coworkers have learned, I won’t even discuss things over text, because they can be misconstrued. If someone wants to talk to me, be around me, be in my life, etc. then talk to me, be around me, etc. I firmly believe in direct contact, not playing telephone or leaving messages with a friend or whatever. I believe that if someone wants to be around me, no matter what’s happened , they will summon every ounce of courage in their body, swallow their pride & come find me, much like Gigi did a year ago. But I will not chase anyone. If you left my life for any reason, it’s up to you to walk back in. Much like Gigi learned, I’m not really a grudge holder & there is one person in this life that I will forgive absolutely everything. If you want to be around me, then it’s up to you to make that step, & if you choose to make that step, I’m pretty easy to find. Just ask…or appear. I’ll be found.
I must seem a titch hypocritical, writing about my annoyance with social media, which I will then blast over social media for you to read, but I don’t hate social media. I hate the misuse of it & when it replaces real human interaction. It’s like my thing with television; as an entertainment reporter, I obviously need it to makes my living, but I do not need to be a slave to it, which is why the girls & I lock up the phones, turn off the computer & TV twice a week & have technology free days where we go outside & play with toys & such. So, let’s stop using our social media accounts as our sole way to interact with people & actually talk to them. You’re likely missing all the important stuff that you can’t find in a status update or 140 characters.
The Misadventures of MHC 