After the week of suck, I’ve done something I haven’t done in a long time;
I broke down.
There was an attempted robbery at work. My teenage daughter is so resentful of her dad’s lack of interest in her life that she has decided she never wants to talk to him again & won’t pick up if he calls anymore. My hip has been injured so I’ve been hurting. My youngest has been ill and I had to ask my eldest to leave school early to watch her until I got home. By the end of my shift, I was just miserable. I ended up crying all night, feeling isolated and alone. I felt like I’m alone in the universe, with no real friends here. For years, I’ve handled everything on my own like some kind of warrior, and every one tells me how I’m so strong. I didn’t want to be strong anymore. I just wanted someone to shoulder a part of the load with me.
I cried all night. I cried all morning. I just didn’t want to be homesick or alone anymore. I didn’t want to be the single mom who handles all the decisions. I didn’t want to go to work. I didn’t even want to be a parent for an hour, because I don’t get the luxury of being a parent when I want women to think I’m sensitive or because my parents ask where my kids are. I was literally broken.
But I learned I wasn’t really alone. My best friend Melissa texted me until very late her time trying to help me feel better. My other best friend Erica, my Texan PIC called me from the road enroute to Dallas for surgery to check in. And my wonderful boyfriend sat on the phone with me for an hour, despite being sick as 100 dogs to remind me that he loves me, he is right here in the city and he will do his best to make this easier. My mommy message board told me how hard I was trying. My oldest friend Gleason offered encouragement & Damanda offered to book my flight home hahaha.
Suddenly, I realized that while I am far away from most people, I’m not really “alone.” I have the best friends in the world who are still right by my side even though they are a zillion miles away. I have friends I’ve never physically met who are always there. I have a loving & gentle man who always knows how to deal with my bouts of lunacy in a way that makes me feel safe & loved. He protects me by reminding me that I can do anything, but on days when life beats me down, he’ll be there to help me back up. I am a very fortunate person. And that helped remind me that while it can be a hard road, I’m the only role model for these three girls. I’m their only parent, their lifeline. I’ve gotta get up & put on pants & kick the world’s ass until I’m the most amazing MHC I can be. So I did.
I may be weathering the storm alone sometimes, but I’m certainly not alone in the trenches. My people are right there with me, whether it’s to calm my addled mind or to tell me I’m the effing sun, like we’re Dr. Meredith Grey & Dr. Cristina Yang, I’ll never really be alone as long as they are there.
Over the last few months, I’ve gone through a plethora of emotions ranging from euphoric to miserable. This past week has just been beyond stupid. I’ve considered closing my blog because I wasn’t comfortable writing about my feelings & I sometimes wonder if I’m using my writing because I’m rather lonely out here in Cow Province & I miss regular chats with friends back home. I had this grand vision that I would get out here & my editor would love my work, I’d land a full time gig & my new gym would be as awesome as my old gym & everything would be perfect.
Yeah, nope.
Instead I’ve been miserable at my gym, hating my job & trying to overcome years of mistrust in a day. So, I’m homesick & sometimes contemplate just moving home in the spring (my friend Damanda is sending a U-Haul). But, I realize I’m not giving myself any time to adjust to anything. Like, at all.
I’m such an ambitious little creature, that I assume it’ll be easy to adjust when most people say it takes a year to adjust to a new community. I get better at trusting people, but it’s a process & I can’t rush that process. I’ll warm up to the gym, it’ll take time. There are some cool people & some not cool people. But I’ll get used to it. It’ll never be as awesome as my old gym, but still good. My new job isn’t journalism, but again, new audience, it’s a process.
I keep trying to rush to get to the part where this feels like home, but it’s gonna take time. The difference is I’m going to allow myself that time to get used to how things are done here. If you’ve ever switched provinces/states, you’ll understand. Some days it just feels weird. And I just want to fit in with the cow people (maybe I should stop calling them cow people). But I realize it’s not as easy for some people. And I’ve got to allow myself time to get used to my life here. It’s okay to feel homesick. It’s okay to feel lonely. It’s okay to miss my gym & my friends & DECENT DAMN PIZZA. WHY IS THERE NO GOOD PIZZA?! But I kept trying to think it was wrong to go through periods of sadness. My birthday was a great day, but I’ve been lonely ever since. It was the first year it wasn’t a clusterfuck, which was nice. But it was also the first year I didn’t have belated drinks with Melissa, or dinner with Rena & Damanda. And it was just kind of sad. And over the past few days, as things have been sucky, I realized how much I missed having nearby friends who could watch the older kids while I took the littlest to the Voodoo Witch Doctor, as she’s allergic to every medication ever made, or Bree hugs. Or the fact that people here call shopping carts baskets. NO. THEY ARE SHOPPING CARTS. But I didn’t want to adjust to the culture shock. I wanted to be awesome. Now, I’m going to focus on making Cow Province my home…& maybe stop calling it Cow Province.
***However, I have only seen geese once, so good job Cow Province****
Same with everything else, I need to give myself time to open up, time to build trust, time to get comfortable. And it’s okay to want to do that slowly. It’s okay to not want to rush. It’s okay to have moments of doubt or fear. All of these things are fine. People who love me understand why I’m a bit batty & love me anyway. They get it & will let me muddle through on my own until I get to a place where I can fully trust people the way I want to. But it takes time.
The good thing about time is we have a lot of it. Every day is another day to make awesome. So, that’s what I will do. Make tomorrow awesome. And the next day. And the next. But the only way to make this place home is to work on it. So, I’m going to put up curtains, pictures & BUY A DAMN KITCHEN TABLE NEXT WEEK. I’m very excited about my table. And each day I wake up I’ll feel better & better about living here, until one day, it’s home. And everything else will come in time, so I won’t rush the process anymore.
It’s time for me to admit something about who I am as a person in the hopes that admitting it will help me grow from it. I don’t like admitting that I have flaws, or that I’m anything less than the most bad ass person on the planet. But if one of my best friends can be open about his bipolar diagnosis & work to recover, then I can accept my flaws.
Ladies & gentlemen, I am a very damaged person & I have trust issues.
I trust exactly four people in this world. Everyone else, I try, but I struggle. I refuse to blame my past relationship failures because then I’m giving them the power to continue to hurt me & I choose my destiny, not the things that went wrong. It’s something I need to work on & I don’t actually know how.
I build my life & I get to a point where I’m happy, really happy. The past few weeks have been awesome. I’m getting back into my gym groove. The kids love school. My eldest is taking her grades seriously & seeing results. I’ve accepted a new job that is a lot like my Target job. I’m excited because my bank account should be back where I was last year, where I don’t have to constantly tell the girls “I’m sorry, we can’t afford it.” My birthday was incredibly lovely & I’ve never been happier or more content in my relationship.
But I’ll admit it’s hard when some of my best friends at home text once a week and ask if he’s left yet, because they’ve got their “I told you so” all ready. It chips away at the fragile trust I build in anyone & suddenly I question everything & my mind starts thinking;
Why did you hire me? Are you really going to promote me if I’m good, or are you going to wait six months & then the company will close.
Why do you keep saying you love me & you’re here for good? We both know you’re lying. Please just go & get it over with, but please don’t actually go.
Why are you my friend if you seem to delight in my potential misery? Why can’t you be happy for me?
I refuse to blame the marriage. I refuse to blame what happened before. This is me. But how do you tell someone that while you feel completely safe & at ease with them, they make you extremely happy & you trust them as much as you can, btw I still worry you’re going to walk out on me the minute I’m not the most understanding or nicest person alive. Can you please have enough patience to give me time & understanding & let me go two steps forward & one step back while I figure out how to navigate sharing my life with you. How do you tell friends you don’t invite them into the more personal parts of your life because you don’t trust them to be happy for you. You’ll just hurt their feelings.
Erica always tells me it’s normal to feel this way, after all, trauma doesn’t go away because you’ve come to terms with it. But no one wants someone that’s damaged & has baggage & doesn’t really know how to be happy without wondering when it’s all going to go to Hell, even though we all have baggage. So, I need to come to terms with my own insecurities about my job, my parenting, my life, my relationships so I can rebuild the trusting part of me that I lost over the years.
So, I started to do just that. I focused on meditation & yoga, also to heal a strained hip flexor that has plagued me for a week. I compiled a list of all the things that scare me about being with someone. Then I laughed at it because 99% of it was ridiculous. I reminded myself that I may not trust everyone, but I trust the right people. My closest friends love & respect me. My boyfriend absolutely loves me & understands how I got this way & will let me figure it out, but wants to help me get there. He isn’t going to leave me because he loves me, crazy and all. And my own gut instincts tell me I am fine. My life is beautiful. My new job will be successful & my writing career will continue to flourish & once my hip stops throbbing, I’ll continue to focus on health & be a bad ass MHC.
But the thing is that we always expect someone to fix us, make us better, etc. But I don’t want that. I want to make me better. I want to be comfortable with trusting people for myself, not for my friends or my boyfriend or whomever. So, it’s a struggle sometimes. But I guess admitting it is the first step to moving forward. And the best way to learn if you can trust someone is to trust them, and every day I get better. There will be moments of doubt or whatever, but the more time I put in with someone, the more the doubt will go away.
So, I’ll keep doing what I do; focus on my happiness & making my family & partner happy. And trolling Erica about baseball. And Crossfit. And making every day the raddest day.
I post pics of my kids on my social media, but never on my blog because while I choose to write about my life, I also respect that they do not choose to do that, so I don’t post their names or photos. My number one pet peeve in life is those parents who post literally every personal milestone of their kids lives (photos of them on the potty, telling stories of them smearing poop on the walls) on social media. I try to limit stories about my kids to when they are doing hilarious things. Adversely, I blog about my personal life, as I write to sort through my own feelings. I’ve been through a lot when it comes to my interpersonal relationships and I know I still have some growing to do, I still need to learn to trust better and I need to stop fearing the idea of a legally binding lifetime commitment because fear only holds us back from truly being happy. Writing about it helps me find my way. But I never post it on social media (that’s not true, there are TWO photos on my Instagram).
There was a random mention of my significant other on my Facebook on my birthday, when I excitedly wanted to show off his adorably thoughtful present to me. When I first moved here, I was beyond excited to find penguins in the West Edmonton Mall, as penguins are the most awesome animals on the planet. One night, when I was dreadfully homesick, he sent me a text message, telling me that I would adjust, it would be okay, he loved me so and he would do whatever it took to help me feel at home here, including find me a penguin to be my pet. My penguin may be cuddly and stuffed, but the gesture was very sweet, and now my penguin sleeps with me at night (judge me, I don’t care). I had a couple of people ask me about my significant other and overcthe past few months, some of my closest friends challenged me on my comfort level about my relationship because I never mention it online. But it’s not for a lack of faith in my romantic life that keeps me mum on the details of my romance online or to the masses, it’s quite the opposite; I keep it mine because it’s mine.
Isn’t he the cutest?!
It’s not a secret who I am dating. My friends and family know who I’m seeing and his friends and family know as well. But the seriousness, the depth of our commitment, the things that are personal are not for public domain. Obviously my closest friends are in the know (So Erica, Melissa and the Gleason Table), but I really don’t feel that the general population needs to know the ins and outs of my love life. That is mine. It’s a part of my life that is very important to me, much like my career and my children. Obviously, I wouldn’t post my job satisfaction on the internet, or personal things about my children, so why would I post things about my love life on the Book of Face?
I used to, but I also see that before I was VERY insecure about my relationship. I was always afraid the relationship would fall apart, so I thought if I said I was happy, then I would convince myself I had nothing to worry about. I see now that was actually stupid. I was inviting the peanut gallery into my relationship. That brought about mistrust, which combined with my insecurities and his fear of long term commitment (and mine) prompted the relationship to implode. I see people all the time on FB talking about people poking into their relationships and telling their friends/family to mind their own business and I often think, then don’t constantly put your business out there with memes and statuses and stuff. But, during the evolution of MHC, I realized that in order to be a decent partner, things needed to change. One of the things that needed to change was my reliance on the acceptance of others. It doesn’t matter if my friends like my boyfriend; I am in love with him. It doesn’t matter if he posts a million cutesy things on Facebook, in fact, we rarely interact on social media. We communicate away from social media. We talk, we text, we cuddle. I learned that to keep a relationship healthy, you need to keep your relationship in house. Facebook does not need to know that I love my boyfriend: he does. Every time I see these over the top FB declarations of love or passive aggressive statuses or the constant switch from “single” to “it’s complicated” to “in a relationship.” Yuck. Why do you need to convince the planet you’re in love?
There are exceptions to every rule. I have some friends that post the odd cute photo & they radiate love & you feel happy for them. My two favourite coaches at my old gym are those people. My friends Nic & Sarah as well. But again, these are vacation photos, rare snippets in time. Not an all out assault of “LOOK HOW IN LOVE WE ARE.” They are sharing small snippets of their lives, which is the point of social media. It’s about small pieces of your life, but the story is for you alone. Sometimes I think about how people like Blake Lively & Ryan Reynolds recently had to cut a friend out of their lives to protect daughter James’s privacy. Jennifer Aniston & Justin Theroux had to hide their wedding plans & take their guests cell phones to protect their privacy. WWE interviewer Renee Young put fans on blast because a harmless photo of her & fellow broadcaster Corey Graves taken on her birthday was misconstrued, followed by insulting comments asking about the whereabouts of her longtime boyfriend, WWE Superstar Dean Ambrose. She chooses to keep their relationship private, and fans get angry that she isn’t sharing photos. All these people want is to enjoy their private moments. Then we regular folks abuse the very same privacy by putting it all out there to be analyzed & get angry when people do.
Maybe someday I’ll feel comfortable sharing snapshots of my life. Maybe not. But until I reach that place, I choose to protect my personal life & my children’s privacy. You do not need to know when my child used the bathroom. You do not need to know the intimate details of my personal life. But the little bits I do share, I enjoy sharing with you, as I enjoy those rare snapshots of your life as well.
Oh nothing. Just chilling the night before my birthday.
I wanted to sleep, but that wasn’t to be. Instead I found myself stressed out about work & frazzled…until I stopped.
Yup, I said eff that.
I used to be a superstitious sort, believing in astrology & whatnot & I’d let all of that destroy my happiness. I’d let a bad horoscope or a psychic reading allow doubt to seep into my mind. I’d let the opinions of others affect my faith in myself. That would force doubt into my mind, breed mistrust into my relationships, my faith in myself, etc. I refuse to allow this. I no longer believe in fairy tales, I no longer believe in fortune tellers; I believe in me.
This past week, I’ve let all of my fears about my job & whether I can truly provide for my family temporarily stunt my faith in myself. I was so consumed that maybe I’m a poor leader that I wasn’t seeing the big picture; my store is thriving. I have another job offer if I want it. I showed my editor that I am the strong & capable writer I said I was. I managed to get to the gym feeling like death. My kids are doing well in school. I didn’t see the little victories among the fear. I allowed this to keep me awake & create insecurities about who I was as a person, my job, my parenting, my writing, my relationship, etc. But the thing is, I have no reason to be afraid of anything, because I’m in control of my future & I am a total bad ass.
I will not allow one bad week to define me. I will not allow past pain to cloud my happy future, or the nasty comments from friends at home to let insecurity & self doubt cloud my reality, which is what I’m doing. My company is not going to fold three weeks into my promotion like Target did. If I hate my job, I should quit & find a place that makes me feel less frazzled. I am not going to fail as a writer, I have worked too damn hard & will continue to work hard. He is not going to go away because he loves me & only me & I trust him as he’s kept his word every day since he asked for another chance to love me. Whatever happened before stays dead and buried by the Detroit River where we left it. I will not carry that baggage. I do not need it anymore, I would rather focus on loving him now instead of worry that he’ll leave. He didn’t stop loving me for years, he won’t now. The fears that I’ll never be able to fully commit myself to another person because of my failed marriage was left in an old house in Walkerville. I will not carry that burden anymore. From now on, I will look at my relationship for what it is; a part of my life that I share with a man that makes me happy (& I hope makes him happy). I am going to do well at the gym. My old coaches didn’t make me strong, it was me doing that work. But I’ve been so worried that I don’t have that support that I let it hold me back. I do not need that support; I know what I can do & I’m going to do it. I am a strong & successful woman who is going to conquer the world. I don’t need superstitious talismen or my friends or even my partner to validate my existence or my work or my future. If I can pack up my life & move to a city I had literally never set foot in to conquer the written word because I had a foot in the door, then the rest is easy.
I’m about to enter another year of life. I intend to make it successful & positive & full of love. Each year, my life just gets better. But for that to happen, I’ve got to let go of insecurities & focus on growing as a person. So, tonight, I decided to focus on ditching all of that old pain. No more what if I can’t, just reminding myself when I succeed, I’ll laugh at how silly I was to think I couldn’t. I’ll look at those white jeans and focus on fitting in them by Xmas. I won’t think about what he did before, but how he loves me now. And every night I’ll remind myself that I am completely in control of my destiny & I choose to be happy every second of this coming year.
I know that I don’t look happy, but I had worked six days in a row & just really wanted to show off my cute hair.
I used to be that person who was way too open with my life online. Then I got burned & now I’m not.
My personal life isn’t “out there” on FB, with memes & sap. I’m not that girl anymore. There have been random tweets, but again, this is rare. In fact, I don’t even think I tell my friends when I’m dating someone (aside from my closest friends). I’m very guarded about my life, whom I trust, because it’s something I struggle with. This is why it weirds me out when people put their personal lives all over the Internet.
WWE Superstar Darren Young took some heat from fans this week when he posted screencaps of an Instagram DM (which can still be found on Young’s Twitter), where a cameraman for the E! series Total Divas sent a shirtless snap to the former Tag Team Champion. He then sent back a photo of his partner & put the man on blast for trying to “break up his happy home.” Young defended his airing of his dirty laundry in some other tweets after fans called him out on his poor behaviour. As my friend Matt Bastard & I discussed jealousy & whether it means a lack of trust in your partner, I thought this whole thing was sad & really embarrassing for Darren Young.
I used to be a bit jealous. Not much, but there was one friend of my boyfriend’s that made me feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was the fact that they used to date. Maybe it was the fact that she was overly flirtatious. I’m not sure. But it bugged me. Now, I’m indifferent. Somewhere along the way I became more confident in who I am as a person. This helped me realize that he loves me. It doesn’t matter if she’s pretty, if they used to date, if they were neighbours, or if she hypothetically showed up at his house naked. He loves me & chose me. And he respects me enough to be faithful to me. I’m sure he notices pretty girls, but in the end, he loves me & chooses to be with me & demonstrates this with his actions. And I need to be confident in his choice & trust him. After all, my being insecure in his choice makes him feel like he needs to do more to prove that I’m his choice. My questioning his choice makes him question it. Lack of trust brings more mistrust. Now, I understand that he chose me because he loves me & I have no reason to question this, because I know he feels it’s the right one. So, instead of being insecure; I’m proud to be the woman he chose.
I’m sure lots of women hit on him. He’s a good looking, intelligent man who works around people all day. I’m sure girls send him flirty Facebook messages & texts. But he loves me, so it doesn’t matter. However, I would question his character if he put these women on public blast, instead of just politely telling them he has a girlfriend. This would show me a lack of respect for people on his part & an even less respect for me. If you need to put a human on blast to prove your home is happy, then your home isn’t that happy. I don’t know Darren Young or Nick Villa, his partner. But I do know that they don’t seem terribly secure, as they had to put humiliate a stranger to validate their love. Maybe this cameraman wasn’t aware that Young was in a relationship. I’m not married, I don’t wear a ring. I’ve had men ask for my number because there is no obvious indication that I’m with anyone. So, I tell them & life goes on. A simple “thanks for the invite, but I have a boyfriend,” would have sufficed. Maybe they could have become platonic friends? Now, some poor guy has been shamed & humiliated for what could have been a simple misunderstanding.
The only thing I took away from Darren Young’s tweets was that his relationship appears to be full of insecurity, jealousy & a lack of trust. So much so that he needed to humiliate a total stranger to prove how “happy” he is with his partner. Anyone who needs to go to such immature lengths to showcase a happy relationship can’t be that happy. The fact that these two make such a public front to appear happy makes me think their private is actually stressful.
A little bit of jealousy is normal, everyone who loves someone might feel a small pang of jealousy from time to time. It means you are protective of your relationship & (when discussed) can help you & your partner find a comfortable place. But when your jealousy & possessiveness leads to you attacking someone & hurting someone else to defend your “happy home,” then you need to evaluate your partner, because there is obviously no trust there, and you can’t have a successful relationship when you’re looking over your shoulder wondering who’s looking at your mate.
I’m sure that doesn’t make a lot of sense to anyone else, but it does to me. What is mine I like to keep mine. My personal life never goes on FB. Only a handful of people know when I am seeing someone. Any blog posts pertaining to my love life do not get shared on my personal or blog’s Facebook pages. Years ago, I got burned when I was open about my love life. Now I am not. I am far more reserved. I save that part of my life for me & only those closest to me. I don’t need to publicly shout from the rooftops that I am with someone & in love. As long as I’m willing to introduce you to those who are closest to me (my children), then you’re special to me. The rest I like to do slowly, in baby steps, so that I don’t feel in over my head. I once dove in too fast & was engaged after three weeks & married a little over a year later. I always felt like I was drowning, doing too much, too soon & ignoring the red flags. When I was here before, I knew I was with the right person, but I didn’t understand that you can know you’ve met your lobster but not be ready for the major steps. Maybe I’m a lobster that likes to wade in the ocean & not get flung into the pot. Truthfully, I like to let my partner take the lead on major steps & I can let them know how I feel as we go. I like to know their comfort level beforehand. I’ll have a timetable for the next logical step (ie; meet my parents) & unless they take the lead & suggest it much sooner, I’ll bring it up then. If that makes sense. Mostly because I want to do it right; quickly isn’t always “right.” Comfort level is key & mine is “wading pool.”
Everything needs a random Friends reference
Also, my taste in men is generally horrible. I once joked that I was going to buy a shirt that said “I attract losers.” I dated men that didn’t see my worth. I dated men who weren’t there for me when I needed them. I dated abusive psychos & my marriages ended when he tried to smother me with a pillow. I generally pick emotionally abusive or generally horrible people, with the exception of my current love, who was always the right person, just never at the right time. But it is now & it’s wonderful. But I also want to do things in the right way, so I’m more mindful of giving space. I’m more mindful of making sure we take things slowly & do things right & when we are ready, not just jump in, because this lobster likes surf. But I’m also protective of my choices & when those closest to me question my affection for someone & my willingness to give them another chance, I get annoyed. I’m a grown up, I know the risks & I am fine. But, I guess it’s the reasons that annoy me.
“He won’t talk to you every day. He doesn’t even have the decency to send you a good morning text every day. That means he’s not that into you.”
“He’ll have free time & go out with the guys & NOT EVEN INVITE YOU & then leave again because he’ll rather be single & I’ll tell you I told you so…again. You should be his only priority, and you know you’re not.”
Or my favourite;
“You’re dumb & this is gonna blow up because he has no respect for you & I’m going to laugh at you when it does.”
Barf. Not all. Not unless it follows with “I am on my way with Starbucks,” because prioroties.
Nope. My boyfriend & I do not talk every day. Sometimes I’m busy & doing my own thing, as is he. Besides, we are grown adults, who needs someone to check in every day? Blah. I am not his only priority. He isn’t mine. My number one and two priorities are my daughters & my writing career. Everything else is secondary. If I can’t make someone my number one priority, how could I ask that of someone else? All I ask is that I am one of your priorities, as you are mine.
Besides, cutesy words are highly overrated.
(Before you say “MHC, you write novels in greeting cards”. I sure do. Those are actual feelings. Canned sentiment is not)
There are entire webpages dedicated to templates of “Good morning beautiful,” text messages, in case you were wondering about the romance level. It’s not original; nor is it romantic. It doesn’t mean he thought of you, it’s part of the dude playbook. If he wants to go out without me, go out! Have fun. My love is based on free will. This way, I know the choices he makes when it comes to me are 100% his & I respect them. I understand the concern of my inner circle, as historical precedent predicts a sudden and swift exit, and he’s not telling me what I used to think I needed to hear every second to make me feel secure. But I am secure & I know I’m with the right person for a great many reasons, which likely sound so stupid to my friends, but make perfect sense to me;
He knows my Starbucks order & brings it to me every time he sees me, & even makes sure my name is spelled correctly on the cup, because I am convinced that they don’t spell my name wrong.
He brought me ice cube trays because I mentioned I didn’t have any & would have to pick some up later to make iced tea.
He has remembered my favourite colour, book & movie for four years.
He laughs at jokes I’ve told a million times.
He listens to me babble away & is almost amused by my obsessive need to be the best at everything.
He sits with me at the hospital when I’m dealing with a family emergency & makes stupid faces at me because he knows I won’t listen to his attempts to help anyway. But he doesn’t leave the room to go smoke, or go home when he’s obviously exhausted. He just sits & makes dumb faces or tells dumb jokes so I’ll laugh for 10 seconds.
When he asked to be in my life, I asked why I should believe him & he said he would show me. Words are great, but actions are everything. I set timetables to make sure we are ready & he bends them to show me is ready & committed to being with me. He shows up at my door after time apart to show me that he missed me. Any one can type out a text & not hit send until morning, but someone invested will be there when you need them, or remember something stupid you said that would make your day brighter.
I am in love with both
I may have terrible taste in men (or so I’m told), but I know I would rather be with the man who brings me ice cube trays than the guy who says the right words. I’ve been with men who know how to say the right words, but they never did the right things. Now, he sometimes says the wrong thing (not lately, but it’s happened), but despite how my friend sees it, I am a priority. He shows me I am a priority in a million little ways; with his time, with his level of commitment to me, by respecting my comfort zones, & even finding it oddly flattering when I write about him (which I never truly feel comfortable doing, but I’m overtired & had an idea which likely read better in my brain) & often texts me to tell me what he thought; once in such a sweet way it rendered me speechless (for the first time in my entire life).
When given the choice ladies; pick the guy that brings ice cube trays over pretty words. Or if they can do both; pick that guy. The guy who brings the ice cube trays was listening to you & knew you needed them & wanted to make your day easier. That will make you smile far more than a cutesy message (although they can be nice). My father always said pick a man of substance, not a man who knows smooth lines, so I did. Over & over again. And of all the choices I make in life (which are mostly terrible), it’s the best (not parenting or journalism) one I’ve ever made.
I am starting to think that I am simply afraid to be happy.
I understand that all humans have a basic right to be happy. I am generally a happy person. I find ways to be happy even when everything is actually stupid. I pride myself on this. But when things play out in a way that makes me truly happy, I start to feel guilty, like do I deserve this? Is it fair that I’m so happy when other people aren’t, etc.?
I lead a very charmed existence. My life used to be very challenging & I’ve worked very hard to build myself in a way that I can be happy regardless of what’s happening in my beautiful life. I have been fortunate to have been blessed with three wonderful children. I have a talent I am passionate about and I’m growing as a writer every day. I’m building connections and career opportunities in my field and I’m super excited about that. My home is slowly becoming a lovely little house where I can raise my family. The girls love their new surroundings and like to chase the bunnies in the yard, they’ve already made friends their own age, and are always outside enjoying their new hometown. Business is even picking up at my day job, so I’m worrying less and less about money and focusing more on becoming a good manager and leader. You know, why I was hired in the first place. My friends back home are always supportive and my friends here are super fun. My girlfriend & I are setting up a playdate with her boys and my girls once the boys get home from camp. My frazzled nerves are often soothed by three words, sent by text message almost every day. They give me peace & security. I’m beautiful and smart and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel anxious and my self esteem doesn’t suck.
But I also find myself worrying that something is going to go terribly wrong. I find myself feeing increasingly sorry for the Dad, who seems to be miserable and that’s my fault. I know you could rationalize that if he wanted to see his kids, he would find a job here, or he would have actually spent time with them when he had them for the month, but I can’t help but feel badly that his life has gone so far downhill and mine seems pretty rad. Kids deserve two hands on parents and I keep hoping he’ll finally get it together and focus on being a good father for his children, but it never happens. And I just keep thinking that I’ve ruined his life somehow. I worry all of the things that are making me happy will suddenly be taken away and it won’t be here anymore. I hadn’t planned for certain developments, and now that they’re in play, it scares me that the other shoe will drop and it’ll go away & the thought scares me so much. I worry that maybe they prefer me as a zoo animal to be observed & watched than a woman to be loved & respected. I can see the girls are adjusting nicely, but I’m still worried that they won’t be happy or that I’m making choices that will impact them in a negative way, despite everything being positive. I also wonder WHY I feel badly that he’s miserable. If the shoe were on the other foot, he would revel in my misery. But I keep worrying that he won’t handle the transition okay, which causes me to distance myself from other aspects of my life so that I can try to help him adjust.
I understand all of these feelings are super normal. I understand that change is scary and letting people in is terrifying and trusting people is hard and people have free will and they choose to love you and they can choose to self destruct and there’s nothing you can do about it. I guess it’s all part of the adjustment; learning to trust your gut instincts (which currently tell me to relax and enjoy my life, it’s the overthinking that gets me) and learning to accept that feelings of self doubt and even fear are normal; especially when every other time you’ve been really happy, it seems to go away. You’ve just gotta remind yourself that it won’t go away. I’ll just continue to focus my efforts on raising my girls, self improvement, and most importantly, the written word. I apply for jobs I’m grossly underqualified for, just so I can get my name out there while I continue to work with my current magazines. I’ll continue to revel with my time with my girls. I’m doing every day crossfit, which means my body hurts like mother effer, but I’m feeling more like myself which means I’m much happier here. It finally feels like this is home. London never really felt like home. It felt like a stepping stone to someplace else. Maybe this was that someplace else? Or maybe this is a stepping stone to someplace else and in two years or so I’ll end up in BC working at some rural newspaper in some hick town, or I’ll actually go to the arctic. Who knows? All I know is I need to do what my Queen Taylor Swift says and “shake it off” and not allow guilt or feelings that the other shoe will drop spoil the happy life I’m building.
But it’s easier said than done & it’s something I need to work on to help me be a more confident person. But as we slowly adjust into a comfortable routine here, and as time passes, it’ll be easier for me to settle into my comfortable place & just be happy.
(This originally started as a private thought, but the more I thought on it, the more it manifested into something I thought I’d share)
When I packed up my life & moved to London, it never truly felt like home.
That’s not true; my gym felt like home. My friends made living there rad, but it wasn’t where I belonged. The adjustment period from that move took months because my coworkers were different (but awesome), my routine changed, as I went from working almost dedicated nights to a swing shift, the girls hated it, etc.
My plan to move here was easy once I got the ball rolling. I found my house easily, I acquired my job easily. I was offered two writing jobs. I guess I just assumed the transition would be easy. I would do it all to make my house mine & everything would be easy.
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
After a solid day of bawling & not sleeping, followed by a solid day of painting, I realized that most of my distress stems from scenarios I’ve created in my mind & not actual problems. This likely stems from the lack of structure in my life. My life was my girls, my writing, crossfit. Everything about my life from two weeks ago has changed for the better (except for the part where the girls won’t be home for another week). But I need to reimplement the things about my life that make it mine (my daughters & crossfit), on top of the things I’ve already done. I think I’ve been so determined to make my house feel like home & make this perfect to alleviate my sadness over the absence of my family that I forgot that I need to continue living my day to day life.
Crossfit helps me feel stronger (because I am haha). It helps me with the social aspect of my life that I like, as we are all working towards the same goals, which is to be our fittest selves. Exercise relieves my anxiety, which helps me retain my title of HBIC. When I went to my intro class, I felt like myself because I was swinging a kettlebell, despite feeling the initial intimidation I felt when I started. But, then I got lost and found myself intimidated by the trek I would need to take to get there. I’ll need to get the eff over that because I need to make my life work in this place. I’ve been doing it the other way. Nope. I’m the CEO of my life. Cow province needs to work for ME.
So, now that the house is getting to feel like mine, I can focus on my life & reestabliishing what makes it work & what makes me the happiest girl in the world.
just like Ruby Gloom
It’s all about changing one’s perspective. I’ve been so focused on trying to fit into my life that I forgot that my life should bend to me! I’ve adjusted to the time zone, I’ve found out how to navigate, so now I’m going to focus on doing things that make my life better. I’ve been so afraid that I’m going to screw up my life that I wasn’t actually living my life! That’s just silly.
The biggest thing I need to do is let go & let people in. I’ve spent so long trying to do things on my own & keep people at arm’s length to prove some kind of point. I’m not even sure what that point is anymore. But I don’t have to do it on my own anymore. I have my significant other (whom I generally don’t care to discuss, but I guess it’s part of the lesson of the day), who is loving, supportive & wants to make my life & transition here as awesome as possible. I love that I have him here with me. But part of being in a successful relationship means I need to be myself & I like my independence & that’s part of why he loves me. But I can be independent & still have an ally who is with me in all things, right? I just need to learn to embrace that while most things I can do for myself, by myself, it’s not MHC vs. the world anymore. I have a teammate in this crazy thing called life & I have a very good one. It’ll take time, but I’ll get there. But part of building a future means moving away from the things that hold us back. I can’t shut out the person who wants to love me because I’m afraid of getting hurt. But if I kept my guard up because I’m afraid of getting hurt, I would never go to the gym. Or work. Or leave my house. It’s a risk & they’re worth that risk. He’s good to me & for me & he loves me & wants to be the person that makes me happy & I need to let him because he’s the most incredible man I’ve ever known & I am a lucky girl. I didn’t intend on being with anyone, but I’m glad he found me…
…and that’s enough about that, as I’m very protective of my personal life.
Let’s change the subject to this lake I hang out at
I guess I needed to have a giant “I’m so lonely” meltdown to help get the negativity out of my mind & focus on making things the way I want. I just needed to spend some time with my constructive thoughts & find ways to make things work; the MHC way. I refuse to allow myself to be afraid that I’ve screwed up. I’m simply going to focus on how I’m going to make my girls & my love proud of me by accomplishing everything I’ve set out to do; conquer the written word, lift heavy things & generally be amazing.
I’ll wander aimlessly through life, but at least I’ll look cute doing it
I know it’s a loneliness of my own design, but it is what it is. I probably sound so whiny, but I’ve never felt so disconnected from my own life. I haven’t hugged my daughters in almost a month & I’m so far from everyone I know except two people & most of my conversations with friends from home are “helpful” reminders that I shouldn’t have done this because I make dumb choices. The gym was great but it wasn’t MY gym & they weren’t MY coaches. I’ve overwhelmed myself with the amount of work that needs to be done so I can unpack, I don’t really know my way around & I’m just…
…I want to go home. But I don’t know where that is.
I was adjusting fine until my youngest daughter was rushed to the hospital & I stood powerless in my store & couldn’t do anything. Sure, my best friend rushed there, but I should have been there. I am Mommy. Mommy is there when bad things happen. And Mommy was very far away. Mommy will remain far away for another week & a Mommy literally cannot stand it anymore. Mommy should not be rewarding brave little girls with a FaceTime trip to the Disney Store. Mommy should have been there. And I wasn’t. And I feel awful.
I’ve been fortunate that I’m not completely alone; I have a partner here who loves me & has done his damnedest to make this whole thing tolerable, but he’s my equal, not my protector. He works & has a life. I can’t just call him & have my epic meltdown that I don’t like my job & I literally don’t want to be this far from my girls anymore & I am really, really intimidated & out of my element & I have never ever looked at a situation that I couldn’t just make awesome until now (although I have no doubt he would listen & be there with me). That reason is because I sound like a huge fucking baby because I know I am actually fine. I am supposed to be a boss ass bitch. Boss ass bitches do not cry because they are lonely af & struggling with the major life change I know was the right thing because everything is actually wonderful & I’m just overtired & overstressed & overwhelmed & this will pass & I am fine.
But right now I am just so incredibly lonely & I find myself calling my friends just so I don’t feel alone in my house but it’s always much later than I thought it was & suddenly I feel so very alone. It’s weird; for years all I wanted was to be left alone so I could be independent & raise my girls & no one could hurt me ever again. But now, I’m just so lonely for my friends, my girls & a home that feels like home & I suck at vulnerability. It kind of goes against my whole “I’m the most bad ass bitch on Earth,” thing.
Change is supposed to be scary. Good change is supposed to be terrifying. Every aspect of my current life but two things are terrifying. I guess I want some semblance of MY life. And I know once I’m attending crossfit regularly & the girls are here I’ll be okay. But I feel like I’ve backed myself into a weird corner. I’ve spent so long trying to convince the world that I need no one & nothing & I’m brave & strong & I can handle everything because I’m so freaking awesome that now that I’m not brave, I dunno what to do. I don’t know how to be afraid, or lonely, or any of these things. And I don’t know how to adequately express these things, or let anyone into my mind & I want so badly to be the super human I’ve convinced myself I am that I bottle up all of these things until you end up having some sobbing fit because you are just really sick of your own company & your own thoughts & you just want someone near you for awhile, even if it’s just on the other end of a phone.
I’m sure everyone who’s ever made a major relocation has had these feelings. They’re not exclusive to me. I’m just a person who overlooks them so I can live up to an ideal that isn’t actually real; I’m not invincible. I’m sometimes not even very brave. And for some reason I won’t allow myself to understand its okay to feel less than bad ass. So, I find myself turning to my writing more than usual, as it’s always been the thing that helps me sort out my jumbled thoughts in a way that makes me feel better.
In the interim, I’ll just bawl my eyes out & feel very lonely & immerse myself in painting tomorrow, for the sense of accomplishment that I am making my house pretty will make tomorrow a brighter day, because the best part of being the eternal optimist is you’ll find something to make the day better, even if that something is very small.
The Misadventures of MHC 