I think it’s time for me to admit that I do really stupid things.
I wouldn’t necessarily say stupid, but maybe “I have no chill” as the cool teenagers say.
Because my journalism career is picking up all kinds of steam, I decided to separate my personal social media from my professional one. I figured it might be better to separate my work from my social media, where I discuss super important things like crossfit, why I think running is stupid, and of course, the return of Seth Rollins and my childlike crush on Seth Rollins. It’s honestly really boring and why I have any followers, I will never know (speaking of which, follow me on Twitter and read about my boring life and teenybopper crush on Seth Rollins!)
Still say that this is where MiTB ended. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP.
So, I opened up this super cool professional Twitter account, which you can totally follow here if you want to read my latest articles! My next article should be up in the coming weeks, so I’m excited.
I’ve also been offered an opportunity to contribute to a new news and popular culture blog (check out my writer profile HERE). That’s kind of exciting. And one of my blog posts was extremely well received by readers, including some fitness writers! Not too bad for a story about a goose.
But the editor for some of the many newspapers I applied for jobs with read this blog and then told me he thought it was really good! Naturally, when responding to the compliment, I managed to do in a way that can only be classified as “completely awkward asshole.” That’s how I deal with compliments folks. Like an asshole. Of course, I DID make an impression, so next time there’s a posting at the Examiner, I can apply with “Hey, remember that time you complimented my work and I asked if you were being sarcastic like a douche? That was me, I swear I’m talented and have the education and portfolio to back it up. Please give me a job.” But it was such a big deal to me. Someone who’s body of work I admire and I hope will someday be my editor complimented this mishmash of thoughts. It was like a big sign that said “You are on the right track MHC.” This silly compliment made me so very proud & it took everything in me not to text everyone I know that the editor thinks I don’t suck. But most of the people in my life are sick of the play by play about my career, the stories I’m working on, the emails I’m sending, etc. I sometimes forget that this is actually only really important to me, and that the eye rolls I get are perfectly natural. I sometimes wonder if I’m the only person who gets this passionate about what they do and who they want to be.
That same night, another freelance opportunity presented itself and I applied. Then I sent a message on LinkedIn asking if there was more I could do to help with my application. That’s when I realized that while in my personal life, I have infinite patience, in my professional life, I have NONE. No chill ever. In my personal life, I am the giver of chances, I am the person who wants to offer love and forgiveness and the opportunity to prove that you can be the person you are capable of being if you would just try really hard to stop doing dumb ass shit (until I reach my limit, then you’re erased). I want my children to learn from my example; how to be healthy, mentally healthy, strong, brave, and determined. I give them chances to grow. I’m patient with them. I listen. But when it comes to my professional life, I become so impatient. Reply right now. Interview right now. Let’s get started. Let me write right now. The position I interviewed at Great West won’t even be available until the fall. So, here I am, trying super hard to be patient, because I’m starting to realize that my eager beaver ways might be putting off potential editors. While I think it would be awesome to have staff that wanted a job as much as I want one, maybe others disagree. So, I am going to try this patience thing. I’ve heard it works in some circles. I’ll wait the proper seven days and then call and follow up. Hopefully, I will get in and can proudly announce the next paper I’ll be writing for so my friends and family can all pretend to care and roll their eyes again. I’ll apply the patience that I give to those I love the most to the world I love the most and see if it pays off.
I’m just so excited. The more places I can published & the more time I can put in a newsroom, the closer I get to the thing I’ve worked my ENTIRE life for. And I get ahead of myself. And then I do and say stupid things which doesn’t help. Sometimes I swear I’m a cartoon character.
If not, I’ll find a happy balance between “aggressive bitch” and “wishy washy passive.” It’s gotta be in there somewhere.
Since I started working with Great West Media last year, I have emailed the publisher once a week, every week. I have emailed him 66 times.
Yesterday, I took a trip to St. Albert to interview with him.
An opening arrived. He was very honest and said I was competing with people with 15 years editorial experience, but there are some positions opening up in the fall that I would be better suited for & this would be a preliminary interview. He liked my work. He admired my tenacity. Could I make it in two hours? Uhhhh…duh. Sure it was deadline day, and I had a sentence to add into my hiking piece. But I can’t turn down a chance to meet a publisher! So, I went on the epic road trip to St. Albert & made it in 1.5 hours, a new record for me. I didn’t even get lost. Baby Jesus was in my corner.
I think the interview went well. They asked about my adding some extra freelance work to the local paper on top of my current freelance work until I can take my road test & get a car. I’m already freelancing, why not?! It’s money in my pocket. It’s new & different subject matter (City Council writing was discussed) & I learn more and more about becoming a better reporter. It’s another step closer to the goal that I’ve worked so hard for & moved across the damn country for. One step closer.
Even if I just sell more stories until I can buy a car next year while I build my wireless career as the cell phone boss lady, it’ll be okay. I start my new job on 07/04 & I’m excited to get into my new store. And this meeting was productive. It’s one step closer…& more money. I put in the time, the effort & hard work & I got the meeting I’ve been gunning for. He didn’t have to do that, after all, he said himself that there were other candidates with more experience. But he read my work & it was damn good. And if I freelance with the newspaper, I’ll get some time in a newsroom & a chance to learn other styles of reporting. My new editor has been very hands on with my latest work. I’m soaking up the feedback like a sponge. Anything to learn and grow & become the best damn reporter I can be.
I don’t fear failure anymore. Mostly because I don’t really know what it is. If it didn’t work the first time, I believe in doubling down & trying again. Didn’t get the meeting? Try again. Want a better job? Take the road less travelled to get the interview. Nail it. Bad weekend for your diet? Eat better tomorrow. Was that WOD or run loaggy & crappy? Oh well, your time will improve tomorrow. This is the mantra that I have built my life around. There is no failure; only a setback in which I can then use to become the woman I’m supposed to be. Thanks for that kick in the nuts, I’ll just bounce back better.
Life is always about proving to yourself that you can be the best you that you can be, without hurting people or stepping on them on the way. You can always improve, grow, be better. If you want it badly enough, you’ll do it. I always remind myself that if former WWE champion Seth Rollins can rehab 10 hours a day & crossfit on one leg to get back to what he does best, I can get my ass to the gym. If I can be brave enough to move away from everyone I love to be a writer, I can learn to drive, freelance, take everything thrown at me until I get to where I need to be. I can be the best cell phone boss lady I can be and make my store successful. Why? Because I want it. That’s why.
Still pretending this is where MiTB ended. Fight me
Do you know how much easier it is to go to your job when you know you only have to go 11 more times?!
Seriously. Super awesome. I’m like “let’s hit this target guys so I can get out of here!” I MAY be excited to start my new job. I am so grateful for the opportunities that this gig has afforded me, but it’s time to move on and I’m REALLY excited to move on. Haha. However, this is not my old universe, so I’ll have to remember some very important managerial rules;
I am not friends with my boss, so I can no longer say bitch on conference calls…unless of course, I become friends with him and find it is socially acceptable to use the word bitch in conference calls. I probably should limit my use of the word bitch in my store. Maybe. I can’t promise miracles yo.
I am the manager in training, which means in a few months I will be running my ship, which means I can no longer pin my hair on my head however I feel like. I must actually make the bitch bun look nice, and look like the cell phone boss lady that I am about to become. That means waking up early to do my hair AND run. Boo lol.
I will once again get to say “I AM the manager,” when someone asks for a manager.
Many of my new team members are new to wireless, so I get to add “Bad ass cell phone trainer/boss lady,” to my list of skills.
Seriously, stop saying the word bitch so much MHC.
I have to be a responsible adult. Boo.
But the thing I am happiest about is the outpouring of love, congrats and support I received from my former co-workers, friends, and family. I received a message from my former co-worker/quasi-sibling/pretend nemesis Chaddy Chad offering to revive our friendly rivalry, as well as congratulating me, saying he knew I deserved to take the lead. My old boss reminded me that yes, he made a phone call, but I’m the one who earned the job and he was happy for me…but if I don’t kick butt, he will hunt me down. Texts from friends, colleagues, etc. wishing me well. I am so incredibly fortunate to have so many people who love me and want me to succeed. It’s funny; when you surround yourself with people who love you (and you love right back) & want to support one another, how far you can go. My people are a zillion miles away (except for about three people), but they still have my back in all things. Those are the kinds of people I want in my life. Thank you for being those kinds of awesome people.
I’m just utterly in love with my life right now. I have the wireless career plan that I had worked so hard at Target to build (and then ended) back on track. I am part of a company that has a culture and people that I love. I’m part of an organization that I respect and admire and I want to build a long term career with (if a long term journalism job doesn’t ever pan out). But while right now it’s the Dave & MHC show, once I prove myself, it’ll be my store, my team. I get to cultivate people & help them reach their goals! I’m freelancing with a National Newspaper Award winning editor who sees a lot of potential in my writing and my story ideas. And as I learn to drive and buy my own car, I can keep working towards the goal. I’ve been doing home repair, putting up curtains and hanging pictures and making my home feel like MY home. The kids are doing well. I was afraid I’d have to start over at Crossfit, but no, I still have a lot of strength in me. I guess life is a little like running. Running is stupid, but it’s necessary to remain healthy and active. But there’s a big ass hill by my house. When I moved here, walking up that stupid hill was enough to wind me. This week I ran up that hill as part of a 5.5 KM run. Even after running almost 4.5 KM first, I made it up the hill and still managed to finish the run. And when you run uphill, your legs get stronger. I guess, as always, I’ve gotten stronger. And because I’ve gotten stronger, I have gotten almost everything I’ve ever wanted, which makes me the happiest MHC in the whole wide world.
Remember when I used to randomly switch jobs because I decided on a whim that I hated it?
We’re not quite in that place, but I did get a new job.
I’ve always managed to maintain good relationships with my old colleagues. Because of this, when opportunities come up, I am fortunate enough to take advantage. I told you I had some other options on the go. Well, one of them was with a company that I have a lot of connections with. My former District Manager (whom I still call Boss Man Adam despite him not actually being my boss anymore) made a phone call and suggested the YEG District Manager call me about an opportunity in the area. We had a good chat and what started as a sales rep offer turned into a Manager in Training/Co-Manager position that will lead to me taking over the store once I prove I can do what Boss Man Adam said I’m capable of. As much as I love my current boss and manager, more money & career expansion is too much to pass up so I’ll be starting a new job in two weeks!
Hey, remember when we all went on a work trip? It was rad.I don’t feel badly about this change.When I took my last job it left me with horrible anxiety that it would affect the parts of my life that made me the most happy…& it did. Even though I reclaimed what makes me most happy (family & fitness), now I’m joining a company that I love, respect the culture & see nothing but growth. For this I am grateful, even if the commute is kind of sucky. However, it’s not the worst commute I’ve ever done & I still have time for crossfit. But life has a way of just becoming awesome, so I’m proud of how I turned it all into a positive & built my career & myself the way I want & I learned not only can I survive here on my own, but I thrive and everything always just gets better! Hard work & being a good person always pays off and things will always work out if you treat people well, be nice & work hard.
Not the worst commute everBut it’s a place I can build a career and still freelance (BTW my latest assignment is freaking awesome) & build my portfolio. More money means I can afford to buy a car next year (BECAUSE I CAN LEGALLY DRIVE NOW BITCHES). More money means more in the college funds as the dad reminded me this week (before I blocked his number because he’s annoying and rude) he’s on a fixed income & has no real plan to change that so I’m expected to foot the bill for everything. So, I need to be able to increase my earning potential. And I’m excited. I’ll be running my own store & building my own team and that’s gonna be amazing.
So, feel free to stay tuned on Facebook (unless I’ve blocked you on Facebook), Twitter (unless I’ve blocked you on Twitter) or LinkedIn (unless I’ve blocked you on LinkedIn) for the next stop in my wireless career. I think it’s gonna be a good one.
One thing that has always bugged the piss out of me is when women bully and belittle other women. It’s such bullshit.
You know what I mean, those “real women have _____” memes, the “make sure your shorts cover your vagina” memes, the “I can wash your beauty off with a cloth” memes. Please do shut up. Women; we are not in competition with each other. I repeat; WE ARE NOT IN COMPETITION WITH EACH OTHER.
While I am not a fan, as she often perpetuates the idea that being a certain type of woman is wrong; this quote is pretty good
Over the past two weeks, I have read some of the most ridiculous belittling of our Prime Minister’s wife Sophie Gregoire Trudeau. Mrs. Trudeau made a comment that she may need help with her many commitments, raising her family & supporting her husband. While yes, she has a household staff, she has one assistant, but over 70 requests to appear each week. Every charity wants Mrs. Trudeau to appear, speak, give a face to their voice. She cannot answer them all, let alone attend. If she declines, she will be vilified for ignoring. Declining to answer is even worse! She’s in a lose lose situation, even though she just wants to help & use her celebrity status to bring attention to Canadian women.
Women across Canada sharpened their claws, claiming that Sophie was asking for something unheard of, even though Mila Mulroney had her own office & staff to help her with her many causes. Interim Conservative leader Rona Ambrose actually praised former Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s wife Laureen Harper for choosing not to be “splashy,” as if wanting to contribute to your country and use your popularity to help others & have an identity away from your husband is somehow a bad thing.
Mrs. Trudeau is the spokesperson Fillactive, a program designed to help 12 – 17 year old girls develop active lifestyles. She has dedicated her time to advocating for women struggling with eating disorders. She is using her status to shed light on causes that are important to her.We should be celebrating her honesty; that running a home & having a job & trying to do more isn’t easy. Instead, it’s some kind of pissing contest. “What about me? I take the kids to lessons & have to cook the supper! Pity me!” “What about single moms?!” Well, this single mom thinks it’s great that she wants to use her status to help others, that she wants to be more than just Mr. Trudeau’s arm candy. That it can be hard. I always say that if I ever got married again (which isn’t bloody likely), I want to be one half of a tandem, with my contributions recognized & that I’m seen for my own merit. I don’t want to be Mrs. Someone, I want to be Mary-Helen & seen for what I can do. I don’t want to be a shrinking violet who hides behind her man. Yes, i will be proud of my man and his accomplishments, but I would expect him to be equally as proud of mine. I would want my strength, tenacity, passion for my career and family to be celebrated. I would want to be recognized as more than a mate, but as a woman…and also that I have really fantastic skin. I refuse to accept the notion that women cannot be celebrated for being clever & beautiful, or that we need to downplay one to build up the other. I want to be seen as a force of nature, someone who commands her destiny & wants to shine. Mrs. Trudeau is beautiful & bright & should be allowed to shine brightly. All women should be allowed to shine.
Seriously. My skin has been looking incredible lately
But it’s not just Mrs. Trudeau. It’s every woman all the time. If you’re thin, eat a cheeseburger. If you’re fat, go on a diet. Don’t wear makeup? Why don’t you take pride in your appearance? Wear makeup? Why don’t you love yourself enough to go natural? Don’t wear the crop top; you’ll look like a slut. If you don’t wear the crop top, you don’t have body positivity. Don’t go to the gym; Netflix. But now you’re lazy. Don’t want a mate; it’s because you can’t keep a man, but don’t get married, you’re sacrificing your independence. Don’t have kids, but if you don’t you’re betraying your uterus. Just know that every move you make, all other women will be judging you & telling you that you are doing it wrong.
So, I ask you, my fellow women, if you can’t say something nice, shut the fuck up. Build each other up, stop tearing each other down. If you don’t want kids, don’t have any. If you don’t want to wear the booty shorts, don’t wear them. If you don’t want to get fit, don’t. And if a woman admits her road is harder than she thought, admit your road is hard too & find understanding together.
Life isn’t a contest about who has the best pretend life on Facebook or who has the hardest time being a woman. Life isn’t meant to be wasted judging other women for their clothes, spouse, kids, or waistline. It’s meant to be kind, do your best, and teach the next generation of women to stand together & stand up for each other.
So, wear the short shorts. Don the red lip. Have sex with the guy or don’t. Have kids. Or don’t. Get married or don’t. Go on a diet. Wear a size 22. But don’t judge another woman for choosing a different path than what you chose. And don’t ever kick another woman while she’s down because she admitted that life isn’t easy.
I work in customer service and media relations. I pride myself on my level of customer service. At my last workplace my customer service score was 100%. During my Target Mobile tenure, one of my customers sent an email to Target Canada’s head office praising my service. During my management team’s follow up calls, they tell me how my customers praise my empathy, genuine interest in them & product knowledge. There’s a reason my friends call me in the Cow Province instead of their cell providers in Ontario; because I take pride in my job & my ability to do it well. They call me “Cell Phone Jesus” (although I prefer the title “Queen of Telecommunications” as is in my Twitter bio). Thanks to this, I may never need to apply for a job again, for I’m often contacted by recruiters for open positions. In fact, I’m currently in the interview process for a new position that will help me transition my wireless career into a wireless/public relations career. I REALLY want this job, so if you could send all the happy thoughts, love, trend the #HireMHC tag on Twitter, prayers or sacrifices to Cthulu, that’d be GREAT (yup, I humblebragged. Fight me).
Flashback to when Bossman Adam bought me a tiara
But customer service is super important to me, because as both a customer service representative & a person who buys stuff, I expect it on both sides of the counter. So, when I see an example of poor customer service in my travels, I tend to want to comment.
This past week, lovable WWE jerk Kevin Owens made a comment online about a restaurant called Notre-Bouef-De-Grâce, claiming he waited quite some time & he and his wife Karina ended up leaving when they were told to wait even longer for their meal. The staff then proceeded to take catty shots on Twitter in a manner reminiscent of Owens’s in character tweets to fans & then somehow, the story ended up being relevant enough to be discussed on Ariel Helwani’s podcast, prompting Owens to post a rebuttal. While right now, it’s a source of annoyance for Owens, it’s a helpful lesson in good customer service.
I always tell my team that we are representing a company and cellular brands. We are the face of them. If we do a good job, they tell their friends. If we don’t, they tell EVERYONE. Go to any restaurant or cell company’s Facebook & see the comments of “I went into _____ location & they were dicks!” Or ask someone what cell company/restaurant to recommend. They will lead with “don’t go here, they suck.” Why? Because humans naturally gravitate towards the negative. When I think of my first cell phone & the bad customer experience I received (I won’t name names), I know that bias slips into my work, as I lead with Rogers phones, as I’ve had great service with Rogers. Once again, that level of positive service reaps rewards. I’ve never met Kevin Owens, but I do know based on this, I won’t go to Notre-Bouef-De-Grâce next time I’m in Montreal either. Not because of the complaint, but the response & the continued attempts to embarrass Mr. Owens afterwards. That’s just bad customer service. That night, he wasn’t lovable jerk Kevin Owens; he was thoughtful husband Kevin Steen, a guy that really just wanted to take his wife out to dinner. He got poor service & made a comment about it on social media, you know, like everyone else ever.
I think I empathized with him because I know how seriously Kevin Owens takes his role as brand ambassador for WWE. Last September, my mom bought my kids & I WWE live event tickets to celebrate my youngest’s sixth birthday (& mine, which is 10 days later). My youngest, dressed in her Nikki Bella gear from head to toe carefully made a sign saying she wanted to meet her hero, as well as her favourite wrestler, Seth Rollins. However, Nikki Bella was injured, but fellow Diva Natalya helped my child get a birthday wish from Nikki, which she did & is still on her IG. However, when Kevin Owens arrived, my then eight year old rushed over to the fence to try and get an autograph for her uncle, who’s birthday had just passed & a shy eight year old was drowned out by the “it’s still real to them” crowd & he didn’t hear her. She cried. My oldest suggested we put it on Twitter & maybe it could be funny promo fodder or we’d get a snarky tweet because she finds them funny. After all, it was an accident. Even my eight year old knew it was an accident & had moved on to seeing if she could wave to Cody Rhodes. Owens tweeted back asking what had happened, and even though I stressed it was an accident, she was fine, no harm done, he arranged for the girls to go backstage to the meet & greet, where they got to meet Seth Rollins (& they all nearly died of joy) & messaged a belated birthday wish to their uncle. By the end of the night, my eight year old was crying again, because she didn’t get to meet Owens to thank him. But to say it didn’t stick out is an understatement. Many of my wrestling fan friends already liked Owens for his in ring ability, but his commitment to the fans made them respect him more. My kids adore Kevin Owens & can’t wait for his action figure to arrive (although it DOES have to apologize to their Sami Zayn for the whole being a jerk to Sami Zayn thing) & I have no problem lining his coffers with my purchases of Kevin Owens merchandise (even though I’m sure his gesture has more to do with him being a father of a child close in age than my buying his merch). The guy running the Notre-Bouef-De-Grâce Twitter could learn from him.
For my family, Kevin Owens isn’t just a wrestler; he’s a guy who did a really cool thing for my kids. He didn’t have to do anything. But he did & my kids are forever grateful. Nikki Bella didn’t have to wish my daughter a happy birthday. She wasn’t even there! But she, Natalya & Owens went above & beyond & it’ll always stick out & I’ll never tank them enough. THAT is being a brand ambassador & something too few people seem to care about. Both situations started with a tweet about an experience. The difference is that Owens represented his company well & Notre-Boeuf-De-Grâce didn’t.
It costs you absolutely zero dollars to be a good person, but being a douche can cost you many dollars. While the customer may not always be right, they are a person too & should be respected, even if the answer isn’t one they wanted to hear. A simple “sorry you had a bad time, did you want to DM us what happened?” Could have gone a long way. In this day and age of social media, restaurants can’t afford to be sassy to anyone because by day’s end, the universe will know & you will only have yourself to blame when your business looks bad.
We all work with people every day. Treat them like they were your best friend, not like just another customer, or chances are, you won’t have any more.
We have been friends for 20 years (Dear God). We’ve been friends through the best of times, the worst of times, marriages (both of us), divorce (mine), kids, depression, and that heartbreaking time that Hulk Hogan joined the nWo. I’m very fortunate to have maintained such an awesome long term friendship. We used to talk about TV & sports. Now it’s kids & fitness & life.
Why Hogan…Why?
But when you’ve known someone as long as I’ve known him, they’re more apt to tell you when you’re not living up to your potential. Or, in my case, when I’m being a doormat.
Awwwww!
For years, I’ve told him about my life, my kids, my plans, goals, etc. and the one question he’d ask me whenever I would talk about stuff is “Is that what Mary-Helen wants?”
“I know the hubby thinks you can afford that Van, but what do you think? What do you want?“
“I know he’s talking marriage, but is that what you want?“
“I know you say you’re fine with that schedule, but is that really what you want? Will it really work for you?“
“So you’re giving him what he asked for, despite him having no respect for you whatsoever. When does he care about what you want?“
I would answer that I was doing what I wanted, because I was writing & crossfitting & doing my thing. But was I really getting what I wanted? I often said that I didn’t want to rock the boat at work, or make the Dad angry. Blank & I were together & happy & he worked so hard that I didn’t want to upset him. I would always say “I don’t want him to get mad & leave me,” and when I did assert myself, I would be afraid of the disappearing act. So, maybe I wasn’t. Or was I? I don’t even know anymore.
I spend so much time making people happy that I end up sacrificing what I want. I would try to stand up for myself, but when it didn’t make things better, I’d stand down. Give in. Maybe I need to be more assertive and stop taking stupid people’s stupid shit.
But, since winter turned into spring, I’ve been asking myself this question a lot. What does MHC want? What do I want for my life, my kids, my future? I’m in control of my life & deep down, I always have been. I just let my fear get in the way of that. And like a good friend, or Glinda, my friend wanted me to figure it out on my own.
the first person to photoshop my friend Gleason’s head on Glinda’s body gets a cookie
Maybe I need to stop worrying about what everyone else wants and do what I want. I need to stop worrying about what the Dad wants & what my friends want & what he wants & focus 100% on what my kids & I want. And we want to continue to live our quiet life. Go to church. Go to Starbucks. Tomorrow we’ll go see Captain America. I want to go running after work every night. I want to crossfit & gains. And most importantly, I want to be the best damn writer & role model I can be. And with the awesome new changes at my magazine, I’m excited about what kind of writer I am going to become. And I’ve already taught my girls about forgiveness and compromise. Now I need to focus on teaching them how to stand up for what they want &I make their voices heard. If people don’t like that, then oh well. Your time in my story is over. I no longer stress about that. I have a world to conquer.
Sometimes it takes reminding, but I do have a voice & I need to use it to stand up for myself at work, in life, and to myself. Because what I want matters too…and I intend to get it.
Over the last few months, I haven’t had much faith in humanity. Mostly, because humanity hasn’t given me much to have faith in.
It all started about three months ago, when some teen girls tried to rob my teenage daughter. Suddenly, I didn’t feel as safe in my neighbourhood. Then, I was blindsided and abandoned, subjected to some of the most manipulative mind games & cruelty from a man who claimed two days earlier that he loved me & to remind me of a conversation we were having once we were married, because he couldn’t wait to marry me. Fast forward to 48 hours later, when I woke up extra early for my long commute to get ready for a date we had planned for when my shift was over. 48 hours earlier, he told me he couldn’t wait for date night. I was so excited to finally have time alone with him without work, as I was beyond over work taking over our romance…only to find he erased me from his life, and a cold text saying he was angry & if I gave him space & a little time & did what he said, everything would be fine. I began obeying his commands, both stated and unstated. I felt like a dog, like I was being punished. And nothing I did made it better. He still wouldn’t talk to me. I apologized for what he said was bothering him, because I am a firm believer in owning your shit, I offered to take steps to resolve the slight, even transferred at my job to help give space, but not a word. I’m not perfect, but no one deserves this treatment. I used to believe he could never hurt me. But it was like the man I love; the kind, gentle, man who sought me out & begged for my affection & loved me so much died and a monster stole his face. It shattered me in ways that I still haven’t really recovered from, and sometimes I’m afraid I never will. I refuse to be a victim, I knew better but I wanted to believe he had changed & would allow us to communicate when he was angry. Bad shit happens, you get up, you kick ass. But it leaves scars. Horrible scars. I don’t know if I’ll ever trust another man again, as I am absolutely terrified of this man I loved. I built up huge walls to keep him away from me, as well as anyone else.
When I build a wall, I make sure its impenetrable. I also have thirty people blocked on Twitter. And emails. I also block your personal, work & even some coworker’s phone numbers. I don’t playSometimes I’m still in denial, like there is no way this man that swore I knew him best could do this. He couldn’t be this hateful. I keep thinking he’ll want to fix it like before, but the thought of him coming near me actually terrifies me, something it never did before (even though he would never harm me). And sometimes, while my friends, therapist, all insist he is emotionally abusive (sending me article after article to back it up), I still squeak out tiny defenses. He’s not mean. He just can’t do anger. I bet he feels badly & just doesn’t know how to come tell me. They ask me how he’d feel if someone treated his daughter as he treated me, because he’s teaching her that this is okay & I still try to defend him. Sometimes at night, I still cry confused tears because I literally just don’t understand how a man went from holding me and telling me that I was the love of his life to never speaking to me ever again in 48 hours & was seemingly proud of destroying my heart & self esteem while I sobbed on his voice mail to please just talk to me. How did we go from looking up engagement rings on New Years Day to feeling like I needed to change everything about me (even though I didn’t want to) just so he’d speak to me. I would delete blogs after minutes for fear of offending him. I would have done anything just for him to talk to me & I still just want him to talk to me, even though I know I deserve a man who would never dream of treating a woman this shamefully. But I still sometimes feel worthless because he won’t talk to me & even though I’m terrified to let him near me, I just want him to fix it like he said he always would. But I don’t ever want to be a woman who meekly kowtows to a man. That is NOT who I am not who I will EVER be. I don’t want to be controlled. So I move forward, focused on being the most bad ass MHC I can be. And despite how harsh this may sound, I don’t believe he’s a bad person. I think he’s a good person who struggles with anger management and commitment & conflict. He made some very poor choices & they are on his conscience, not mine.
A few weeks later, I was robbed, my purse stolen from my workplace. I lost all of my ID and I’m still trying to get it all back. The whole experience left me reeling, I had just transferred and now I didn’t trust my own coworkers. The mall security didn’t help. I have little faith in the police. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly feel safe at work or walking home from work. I feel violated and I look over my shoulder a lot. But I focus on the good things I have; my family, my health, crossfit. My amazing friends who rallied around me during those tough few weeks, including a really cool coworker who became my bodyguard & protector. My super cool therapist. So many awesome people who made this whole experience bearable. By focusing on the good, I could get through the bad. I have so many good things. I am lucky to have these things. I am happy.
(This isn’t a pity me trip. Bad shit happens every day, you get up & keep on going. But I just talked about why we need to be our authentic selves. That means I need to be able to talk about the times life kicked me in the metaphorical balls. It just sometimes takes me a bit, until some of the hurt subsides.)
This isn’t all of you, but you know who you areBut to say it didn’t make me question my faith that people were essentially good would be wrong. It did. I didn’t trust anyone. At one point, after a particularly cruel trick he played,where he messaged Erica claiming he wanted to talk to me, which never happened, I almost stopped trusting Erica & shut her out for a few days, even though she’s the most important person in my life. I shut out everyone for awhile, except for those good friends who forced me to talk. I stopped writing, I had nothing to say. I felt like everything I had believed about humanity was wrong. People aren’t good. I watched people get busted for shoplifting many times a day, road rage assaults, murders on the news & my neighbours got robbed.My house got egged. And I waited for a conversation that I was told he wanted until I realized it was just another manipulation to keep me hanging on to nothing. Everything I had ever staked my beliefs on felt wrong.
Then, little things happened to help me see that most people are good & not to let some bad apples spoil that. My girls & I started attending a new church here in the city. We were welcomed with open arms. My teenager attends youth group. She’s learning and growing. The pastor drove her home because it rained. Suddenly, we felt like part of the community. My district manager, who did everything she could to make my work life tolerable, pulled me aside on one particularly trying day and said “I sought you out to hire you because you are a strong, talented, energetic, genuinely kind hearted person. If he can’t see your value, then he’s missing out.” My new manager did all he could to make me feel welcome. He’s been great fun to work with. My teenager’s teacher went above and beyond to help her with math. My coworker drive me home after working 15 hours. And when my cat went missing this past week, my neighbours formed a search party to help me find my beloved kitty. Each day, something new happened that helped me see that people are good.
If you live in Edmonton, keep an eye out for PeachyEach day, I saw a little more kindness from people. The cab driver that didn’t charge me because I looked tired. The coworker who gave me a hug because I was so drained I burst into tears at work. The crossfit coach who called me the day after a hard class to check on my hip. The stranger who walked an old lady down the street. The principal who consoled my nine year old when she got sick at school. All restoring my faith in humans. How could you not have faith in the planet with so many cool people around?!
Finally, this weekend, I saw how truly good people could be. After a forest fire displaced many of my fellow Albertans, I saw kids with lemonade stands. People paying for the groceries of the person behind them. A man donating $200 to Red Cross. The same people who were cussing each other out in the street were helping each other. WWE Superstars Kevin Owens & Tyler Breeze created a GoFundMe to help bring people together to raise funds during their personal time (Mr. Owens once did an amazing thing for my daughters during a WWE Live Event last year, so I already knew he was a great guy). And my dearest Bree reminded me that humanity is good, I just need to remember where to look.
This is the wisest person that I knowIt shouldn’t take a tragedy to bring out the best in humanity. We should all aspire to be good to each other every single day. And we also need to not lose sight of the good things people do for us, who’s there for us, the random strangers who have your back. Don’t lose sight of them because of a few bad people. Don’t let the bad people of the world take away your belief in humanity. People are good if you believe they are good. And even if they aren’t, be a good person because it costs you absolutely nothing to be a good person, but you will gain so much from it.
Humans ARE good. Yes, some are bad. Some are good, they just do dumb things. But you’ve gotta look around & see the good. It’s there; you’ve just gotta make sure you see it…and live it.
About 2.5 months ago, something happened that changed my life a little bit. I’ve addressed it briefly in bits & pieces, but now it’s time to discuss the elephant in the room.
I have arthritis & I’ve fallen off the fitness wagon. Completely.
The gym used to be part of my every day life. Now it’s sporadic at best. I haven’t been in almost a month. The holidays & commute threw me off & now it’s fear. Fear of damaging my hips further. Fear of injury. Fear of crossfit. But part of who I am is fitness. I gained 15lbs at my old store. And it’s bothered me. The new gym hasn’t been as welcoming as WLCF. It’s cold & running in the cold scares me. I’ve got a ton of excuses, but not enough motivation. And working near the chips isn’t helping. I asked my friend to send me a pic of his disapproving face to help me get back on track.
I’ve been so mad at my body for betraying me. I’m good to it! I feed it kale! I exercise, cut out most processed junk, etc. Of course, that’s been for two years. Most of my adult life was eating shit food & wondering why I was depressed. Lack of exercise & lots of junk food. Our bodies crave real food, not chemicals, soda & alcohol. The more we put this in our bodies, the sicker & more depressed we get. I’ve felt like shit because I’m eating like shit. So, imma gonna stop eating like shit. I need to stop being afraid of pain and go through it so my hips will get stronger & hurt less. I’ve never been afraid of anything. But permanent injury freaks me out. Who will work? Who will raise the girls? It’s us vs. the World.
So I flipped the script. Who’s gonna take care of the girls if I have a heart attack because of Doritos? Who’s gonna work if my hips get so sore that I can’t stand? Who’s gonna take care of me if I don’t? You’ve gotta love yourself to do the right things for your body. To be a good parent, you’ve gotta set the right examples. So I’m gonna get up and go to the gym. I’m gonna go running (you can view my results on Twitter lol). I’m gonna eat kale. And my body will thank me.
I haven’t really felt like blogging. I’ve been writing, as I’ve been working hard at the magazine as I AM GETTING ASSIGNED STORIES AGAIN! But I didn’t feel like blogging. I even pulled the app from my phone for a bit. I’m all about being more selective about what I share with people. Even my close friends aren’t learning as much about my life. I guess I’m internalizing a bit. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think there are people who use my blog to figure out my mood, etc. instead of actually communicating with me & I’m kind of over that. But I really wanted to share this tale of how strong women inspire strong women & maybe it’ll motivate other strong women.
But I’m losing the plot a little bit. Hold on, let me back up the train a bit.
This week, my girls were talking about heroes & women who inspire them. I’m always interested to see who catches their attention & motivates them. For my oldest daughter, it was Sasha Banks.
My teen daughter has made it no secret that she wants to become the youngest WWE Women’s Champion in history. She’s also been told by her father, grandfather, and maternal grandmother that she can’t. She’s lazy. She’s selfish. Spoiled. So she’ll never make it. However, she keeps on training. Working on her athletics in gym & her theatrics in drama class so she can become that girl that has her moment. I always remind her that for every AJ Lee & Sasha Banks, there are hundreds of little girls that didn’t make it, so she’s gotta put in the work Sasha & AJ did. I tell her that she’s capable and while I fully intend to be at ringside when she wins that title, it’s always good to have a university education in case of injury. Last week, Sasha Banks showcased her Wrestlemania Diary, where she revealed a journal where 10 year old Mercedes (Sasha’s real name) wrote about her dreams to become the WWE Women’s Champion. Last Sunday, my eldest child, decked out in her Legit Boss gear, got teary when the opening notes of her favourite’s music hit and as Sasha Banks got her moment, she said “Sasha did it, and in a few years, that’ll be me.”
Regardless of the outcome of the match (which pissed off every one of my kids), Sasha Banks inspired many little girls who are told that they can’t, like my daughter, so she should be proud of what she accomplished. Much like little Mercedes looked up to her heroes, in a few years, my daughter will describe how Sasha Banks walking to the ring helped inspire her. That’s gotta be amazing.
Later this week, I introduced my daughters to THE GREATEST CINEMATIC EPIC OF OUR TIME; Legally Blonde. My 9 year old, whom we call the Overlord called me at work to tell me;
“MOMMY. ELLE AND THE DOGGY SAVED THE LADY AND WON THE CASE AND SHE DID IT ALL BY HERSELF AND THEN TOLD THE JERK BOY TO GO SCREW HIMSELF. SHE IS AWESOME.”
I take flack for loving Elle as much as I do, but she’s pretty bad ass. She got into Harvard Law all by herself. And she became a lawyer all by herself. She didn’t hold it against Vivian that they fought for the same guy, because he didn’t deserve either of them. And Elle just wanted to make the world better for people. She kind of rules. The Overlord kind of wants to be a lawyer…and I need to watch my language, as screw yourself shouldn’t be in a kid’s vocabulary.
And my youngest daughter told me this week that I’m her hero. Because Mommy writes for a magazine & moved to a Cow Province to be the best writer & sells phones & works hard & gives hugs & takes her to Zootopia & does crossfit & I would never blow up her planet like Darth Vader blew up Princess Leia’s planet. It was kind of cool.
But it reminded me why I need to make sure that I’m being my best self every single day, as there are little people who are watching me. Little people watch how you treat people, how you carry yourself, how hard you work & emulate you. While its great that Sasha Banks & Elle Woods inspire my kids to become champions & dog toting lawyers, I’m the one they see every day. I need to be the bad ass woman that conquers the planet, works hard, and treats people well. I’m the one who will teach them what kind of woman they want to be. I don’t want them to be like me; they will accomplish far more than I will, but my character sets that blueprint. I need to make it a good one.
So, the lesson here is, never be afraid to be the best version of you. You never know who is watching.
The Misadventures of MHC 