Category: My New Life As Me

Oblivion

by maryhelenc, posted in Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, When Things Suck Hard

It’s so much harder to recover from a nervous breakdown than it was to have one. Going crazy was easy, putting it all back together feels harder than I thought it would be.

It’s easy to find your centre when this is inches from your front yard

It’s been about a month now and I’m slowly finding my new normal in my new surroundings. It’s weird. I don’t have to stress about rent because I live in my own home. But also it doesn’t feel like MY home. I feel like a bit of a squatter who just showed up and now just exists in a space. My sweet angel fiancé told me to do whatever it takes to make the space feel like ours, so I picked out a bunch of furniture to help make our space feel like ours. I can’t wait to arrange our living room and make the space feel like the home I’ve always dreamed of.

I started working, which is nice because I have my own income. It’s a bit of a commute, but I like the drive. It’s a massive pay cut, but I like my coworkers and I’m good at it. I miss my old job; my old colleagues. I loved what I did; it was challenging and engaging. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy what I do at my new job. I think it’ll be a good fit. I really want to do well, and I feel like lamenting that I couldn’t stay with my old company. Part of bouncing back means letting go of things you had to leave behind. This means putting my best foot forward and making this job work. I’m just frustrated because I feel like I’m not contributing. I basically earn enough to cover my bills and car. Once I do that I have about $12. I should be earning more. But then I also feel guilty because I’m not where I used to be. I’m not scratching and clawing for a living. I feel like I should be leaving the sales to the people who need the extra to live because for once, I’m not desperately trying to earn my way.

I miss my friends. I hate missing events. My best friend bought a new house and I won’t get to see it when I fly home to Alberta for my wedding in October. I miss ramen on Sunday mornings, or wings on Saturday night. On the flipside, I love catching up with friends I haven’t seen in years. One of my dearest friends is expecting her first baby and I can’t wait to meet her. I got to sit in a backyard with my best friend from high school and

we just got to talk shit and laugh. Even though it feels sad, there’s a silver lining.

I think the reason it’s been so hard to find my new normal because it’s such a bittersweet time. I love being close to family, but I miss the way things used to be at the same time. My life in Edmonton was incredible, and I miss it so much. I feel like I’m not really a contributor to my household and I want to be an equal and help provide for my newly blended family. But at the same time, I’m really excited about my life here. There’s something so reassuring about laying down beside my fiancé at night. I never used to be a touchy feely person, but he represents a feeling of safety I’ve never had before. I’ve never been with someone who is so devoted to me, our family, and committed to providing and protecting us. I used to be so afraid of committing to someone because the men I had shared a home with before didn’t offer security; just chaos and cruelty. For the first time in my life, there’s a level of security I’ve never had. No walking on eggshells for fear of having to move again. No more walking on eggshells for fear of another relationship turning toxic. He brings this sense of calm that makes me feel like I’m on the right track. Everything with him is so easy. So many people told me “the honeymoon phase will end and shit will get real,” but that didn’t happen. Even though we aren’t living a romance novel where he flies to see me every other month, the butterflies and that feeling that this is the right place never goes away.

I don’t feel like I’m completely back to normal yet, but I’m on my way. Each day I’ll get more comfortable, or I’ll just continue to convince my cats to all become friends like a weirdo

Oh yeah. I have a third cat now

Where the Wild Things Are

by maryhelenc, posted in Fitnesslicious, Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

Hello from my new home!

After a crazy 30 days of packing, cleaning, and saying goodbye to all of my best friends, I got on a plane with my fiancé, kids, and cats, and flew back to Ontario. We even managed to squeeze in one last trip to Rogers Place to see my beloved Oilers before our Stanley Cup hopes and dreams were dashed.

I’d love to tell you that everything went smoothly and I’m now safely tucked away in my new town and all is well.

LOL I actually had a nervous breakdown.

Kudos to my fiancé and one of my best friends, who had to lead me out of my old house and to the airport with my kids in the backseat and my cats on their laps while I sobbed that the house cleaner didn’t mop the floors and I just wanted to mop my floors and sit in my house for just a few minutes more. I know it was just a rental. But it was my home and I truly wanted to stay there forever. Instead I had to vacate my job and move across the country while my life was completely out of my control. After we arrived at home, I bawled uncontrollably until I finally fell asleep to the sound of my fiancé promising me that our lives together would be magical. The loss of my home and job ruined me in ways no one can imagine. My life is so uncertain. I’m job hunting but I don’t have a position yet. I don’t know when I’ll be getting my things. I don’t know anyone yet and I’m worried about pulling my own weight. I don’t want my partner to have to pay all of our bills. I haven’t figured out how to transfer my mom to a long term care facility in Ontario. Things are uncertain. I don’t like not being in control and nothing is really in my control. So I help out around the house and wait for my car to arrive.

Also I found a kick ass new salon. They aren’t Icon Downtown Edmonton, but they’re really great

But I guess this has been a good lesson for me to learn to surrender control and really allow someone to support me. Even though I’m getting married in the fall, I struggled with letting my partner help and support me. I like doing everything on my own and I hate relying on a man for everything. Now I’m basically as emotionally fragile as a baby bird and the idea of making a decision of any kind sends me into a panic attack, which means my partner has to pick up the slack. He booked the flights, arranged for my car to be shipped to our new hometown, spoke with my former landlords (who again, are wonderful. This situation has been extremely traumatic and heartbreaking, but I am not here for any negativity towards them), and helping us feel comfortable. He had to step up for me while I have been useless. I cry, try to adjust to my new time zone, hunt for jobs, and sleep. Meanwhile he works, assembles furniture, makes dinner, and comforts me while I try to pick up the pieces of my life and figure out how to feel like a member of the family and not a helpless damsel in distress.

I’ve always tried to make sure my life isn’t just a highlight reel and this is no different. I’m not having a good time. I truly loved Edmonton, my home, and my job. I’ve always defined myself by my job, my work ethic and now I don’t have that. I want to contribute to my household and pay bills and have a purpose. I feel very lost and unsure of what to do next. But all is not lost. I have a lot to be grateful for. I live in a beautiful home in a lovely community. I am fortunate that he can support us until I can find work. I have friends in Ontario I’m looking forward to connecting with. I get to go for walks and join a gym and live a healthier lifestyle. My front yard is a beach. There are worse places to land when your life falls apart than a lake house where your partner makes you breakfast in bed and dotes on you while you regain your sanity. So, while things feel broken, eventually I’ll wake up and not feel like I’m two hours behind, and like I’m exactly where I need to be.

When I Get There

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Fitnesslicious, Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me

I spent a lot of my life running away from myself.

I spent a long time pretending I just wanted to explore any opportunities that came my way, but the reality is that I just wanted to put space between and all of my trauma and mistakes so I could commit to being the best version of myself for my kids. Other people craved being extraordinary; I just wanted to be normal. All those things people took for granted; parents, a home, healthy interpersonal relationships, mundane lives; I would look at them with envious eyes desperate for them.

I didn’t want to face down all of the things that made me feel broken so I had a plan; just keep on moving. Eventually I’d reach a point where no one really knew who I was and I could be anyone! I didn’t have to be the broken toy with PTSD. I could be something better. So I did that. I pretended the years 19-21 didn’t exist. I moved as far away as I could. I changed my hair and my hobbies and music tastes and became someone I felt could be seen as normal. It’ll totally work, right?

I mean, it did for a bit. I was a completely different person.

I also lost every bit of my strength and character and became a whiny little bitch.

I didn’t like who I was so I decided that no one ever could and kept putting space between myself and the carefully curated version of me that I felt was okay. I stopped listening to fave songs because they reminded me of things I either didn’t want to remember because they were traumatic, or because they were happy times I ached to relive. I spent the last 14 years since my divorce trying to be someone worthy of love and friendship, someone that would be seen as a whole human and not just a fractured person with trust issues and anxiety. So I kept framing and rearranging until I could be someone that I thought I could love. Instead of wanting to be happy, I wanted people to like me. I became a people pleaser and constantly romanticized people who treated me like absolute crap.

But part of marrying your high school sweetheart is that there’s no running from the old you. You’re kind of stuck visiting your hometown and being confronted with all of the memories you long to escape. But there’s also something about healing your past traumas that allows you the space and the grace to accept the love you actually deserve and realize how unhealthy the things you allowed were. For the first time in my life I am loved for exactly who I am, both by myself and by someone else. I don’t feel like I have to pretend to be someone that’s digestible to be happy. Every once in a while I find this part of me and I live my best life, but then something happens and I go back to people pleasing. Maybe I get lonely. Maybe I worry people won’t like me if I just act like my loud, ridiculous, anxious little self. Then I find a new city, and try again to be what people want me to be so people will like me. Soon enough I’m a robot going through the motions until I feel like I don’t even recognize myself anymore.

But this time feels different. Maybe it’s because choosing self love attracted the type of love I’ve always wanted from a companion. My partner loves me for me. He’s seen the best and worst of me and all of my many personas and side quests and he still just loves me. He doesn’t just love me; he respects me, he protects my feelings, he supports me. He compliments me and shows up in a million little ways. There’s something so heartwarming about knowing someone sees you for who you are and still thinks you’re swell. So whenever It makes you evaluate how others treat you, including yourself.

I have talked about my falling out with my former best friend, but I romanticized the Hell out of that relationship. I looked at the good times and not all of the times she mocked my weight (great look from a personal trainer), or told me how I was a good small dose friend, or only called me to vent about how her husband was possibly cheating on her. I even reached out to own my part in why things went south and was met with the same old deflection and zero accountability. I realized how much I’d allowed that over the years. How I’d spent so long feeling like the person I kept running from was somehow unworthy of love or friendship. As I read through her email where she twisted the narrative about how she ghosted me and didn’t do anything wrong ever (even though I’m the one ceased communication, unfollowed and blocked her on social media). Two years ago I would have grovelled and begged for another chance and I would make myself even smaller to please them and feel worthy of a friend, but this time I felt nothing. Not even worth dignifying with a response. I don’t need to settle for friendships where my only purpose is to be a sounding board and a punching bag, and they are nowhere to be found when I need them. I reached out because I was nostalgic for the person I knew and wanted to be friends with that person, but that person doesn’t really exist and deep down I knew it. I don’t wish them ill will; I also don’t want to be friends with them. The response helped me realize that I am finally in a place of healing where I no longer have to beg people to let me take care of them. Now I ask to be an equal in all of my relationships. I’m not ashamed of my upbringing or the trauma of my early adulthood anymore. Maybe now I can finally love the girl I was so I can embrace the woman I am and finally focus only on relationships that honour me, instead of begging for scraps of friendship from people who make me feel like less than.

Thoughts? Feedback? Just want to share ideas or chat? Send me an email or contact me on social media!

Personal Best

by maryhelenc, posted in Current Events, Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

Hey everyone!

I know it’s been a hot minute, but 2025 started off busy af. First my dishwasher decided it was time to die on the battlefield, work has been ramping up, and then everyone in my house got the flu. It’s been rad. But with everything comes a silver lining. New dishwasher, everyone has recovered, and work is still busy, but I adore my job so it’s okay.

I’ve also been busy planning my wedding. When you live halfway across the country from your partner, planning a wedding can be annoying. Let’s be honest; planning a wedding is always annoying. Fortunately, we are pretty laid back and details aren’t as important to us as they are to others. We are just content to celebrate with our friends and family, and continue our wonderfully weird bi-coastal little life. While everyone else worries about dress codes and whatever, we are just happy. But the number one question we get asked is:

“Who is moving where? Surely you’ll want to live together!”

Allow me to answer your question!

Everything is staying exactly the way it is for the foreseeable future.

I know this sounds very confusing, but the reasons are simple. We both have children. They are in school. My younger daughter is in university. My son just started high school. It would be unfair to uproot their lives and risk their educations because their parents finally figured out what everyone knew years ago. Different provinces have different academic standards and I would hate for my son to graduate later than his peers because we uprooted him. My daughter is pursuing her degree and preparing to train for her dream job. I refuse to do anything that will jeopardize that. I have spent years working to provide my kids with stability and we finally have it. We rent a magical home in a good neighbourhood. We have lived there for years. We have a great relationship with our community, and my son attends a great school nearby. My fiancé has a career with a pension and a healthy co-parenting dynamic. Everyone is happy, especially our children.

The other reason is also really simple; I know my limitations as a human being. Your girl has struggled for years with the idea of being tied down or not being in control of my own future. I spent years in a suffocating marriage where I made very few decisions. When we broke up, I had no idea how to navigate life on my own, as I had been trapped in some kind of abusive relationship since I was 19. I had my oldest child when I was very young; I didn’t even know myself, let alone how to be an adult. I learned trial by fire and I’m finally in a place where I feel like I’m in control of my life. I have always been afraid of marriage, and it’s taken me years of therapy to get to a place where the idea doesn’t fill me with existential dread; with the loss of freedom and autonomy. My poor fiancé has tried to convince me that we should get married so many times over the years and every time I would bolt and move further away (the last time I was already here lol). I was afraid of my own feelings, of the future, and of the idea that I’d be sacrificing for a man. Everyone who knows me personally laughs at the time I tried to run away from my first wedding, but at the same time GUYS I ACTUALLY TRIED TO RUN AWAY FROM MY WEDDING. I wasn’t ready, it wasn’t right, and I couldn’t breathe. I tried to run from a vow renewal that led to a divorce ten months later. I’m really not good at weddings y’all)

(Before you start a betting pool, I assure you I will not be running away from this wedding. Mostly because this was not a choice entered into lightly and I adore the person I’m marrying. Also because it’s like, five hours from home and leaving everyone stranded is hecking rude)

Fortunately, my fiancé is a man who has watched me slowly rebuild my life after getting out of a violent marriage, ugly divorce, and many first dates that made me want another cat. He’s always understood my intense fear of another failed marriage or loss of self and wants me to be happy. He loves me enough to understand that allowing me the grace and space to navigate our future while giving our respective kids the stability they deserve to reach their academic goals is what’s best for our family unit.

When this conversation comes up with literally everyone, I struggle not to get defensive, as everyone assumes I’m just packing up my life as if I don’t have one. I love my fiancé, but I also love my job, my friends, my house, and the winters aren’t so bad once you get used to it. Also, it’s MINE. I built that shit from the ground up all by myself and I’m damn proud of my little niche in the universe. While I am well aware that I can’t have my cake and eat it too forever, I am eternally grateful that I have it right now. When the kids are done school, we will revisit the “where will we live” conversation. I think we are actually the least concerned, because we know that it’ll all work out when both of us are ready, and not because someone feels like they have to shake things up. It works because we have a twenty five year foundation and understand what each of us needs to be happy. Someday we will decide where to live, but for now, it’s just noise and we prefer to be peaceful ostriches in the sand.

I Look In People’s Windows

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

Sometimes my life feels like it’s going a mile a minute and I don’t get any real time to stop.

I don’t mind the pace of it all. I have morning carpool with the kids, work, visiting my mom in long term care, maintaining a home, and (in theory) planning a wedding. The last one is mainly either procrastinating or crying. I’m the best.

My fiancé and I divided up wedding planning accordingly. He picks the venue, the food, and keeps me from going insane, and I…plan the wedding. Trust me folks, he has a MUCH harder job. So far he has picked a venue and looked at the menu and I half ass built this website and went dress shopping and possibly had some kind of nervous breakdown. So we’ve both accomplished a lot.

Planning a wedding triggers all kinds of emotions. I’ve always been afraid of commitment, even in my youth. My fiancé told me he was going to marry me when we were teens and I LITERALLY LAUGHED AT THIS MAN. My first marriage was a disaster of epic proportions. He didn’t want to get help for his depression; I didn’t want to be there at all. I’m so scared of being trapped in a situation where things just escalate and become violent again. There’s also the income deficit; my partner out earns me by a considerable margin. I’ve always prided myself on being an equal. I spent eight years with a man who made less than me but also made me account for every dollar I spent. I don’t want to be a drain or someone that can’t contribute to her home and family. There’s also ageism and the body image issues. Am I too old for this and should we have just gone to the courthouse? Because of this, I hyper analyze every detail and ask my fiancé if he’s mad at me eleventy thousand times a day.

(Fortunately, my fiancé is a very patient man, because otherwise he’d be driven nuts by now)

Basically, much like everything else in my life, this change has made me an anxious ball of anxiety! However, the one thing that doesn’t scare me is the person I’ve chosen to spend my life with. He is the part that makes sense. I try not to talk about my personal life too much, but everything is easy with him. We communicate well, I trust him implicitly, he’s compassionate and kind, he loves my kids and is excited to blend our families. The idea of spending my life with him is easy; it’s the smartest decision I’ve ever made. It’s not him that makes me fear commitment. It doesn’t even feel like commitment; instead it feels like it’s supposed to be this way. My fear of commitment has nothing to do with him; he’s perfect. My therapist and I have been working on this and we are realizing that my fear of commitment has nothing to do with my partners and everything to do with me.

I have a confession folks; my name is MHC and I have control issues…and abandonment issues…and body image issues…

I grew up believing I would never be able to count on anyone. My mom let me down, my family was dysfunctional, so I decided if I just did everything on my own, then no one could ever hurt me ever again! Also, no one could reject me, or tell me I’m not good enough for them. If I kept to myself, then I couldn’t let them down. If I just accepted that I’m not traditional wife material, then no one would want me to be their wife! Self sabotage; WHAT A BRILLIANT IDEA! I’ve always struggled with gender roles and norms. I never wanted to be the white picket fence wife who made cookies and stayed home to raise a family. I wanted to raise kids, but the rest seemed terrifying. I wanted to have my own career, earn my own money, be an equal. But I grew up with people who made me feel like wanting to be more than that made me somehow less.

This feeling of being less has been growing since I was 19 and a boy told me he was going to marry me someday (kudos to him; he played the long game). Ever since I’ve always worried about disappointing people when they realize I’m not good at traditional wife things, I’m stubborn, I struggle to open up about my feelings, and I’m pretty much neurotic every second. So, I’d pack up my shit and run away again. New town, new adventures, new life where I can just be on my own. However, once you find yourself settled, you start to look introspectively. It was never about how anyone else saw me. It was that I always saw me as a broken toy; damaged by trauma, product of the system, dysfunctional family. I looked at the highlight reels and surface levels and compared it to my own experiences and felt like a stray cat you need to coax inside. Why would anyone want a stray cat when you can get a fantastic Scottish Fold or Himalayan Blue?

All of my fears came from the fear of being judged too harshly for my shitty upbringing, failed marriage, or lack of real estate, but it was really just me judging my own reflection and seeing how I stack against my own demons and phantom women that may haunt my partner’s ceiling. Clever, beautiful women with talent and never talk too much and aren’t ever too loud. If they couldn’t make it work, what chance did I, the stray cat who is too loud and has never stopped talking, have?

Part of getting over my fears of commitment is actually fully accepting myself and accepting that someone is capable of loving me. It’s a slow process, with a ton of procrastinating and a fuck ton of therapy, but if I keep working at it, maybe I’ll have something planned by my wedding day, which has a date set because at least one of us knows what they’re doing.

Remembering Sunday

by maryhelenc, posted in Current Events, Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

Isn’t life rad?

Summer 2024 is behind us and now it’s time for me to BOMBARD YOUR ASS WITH PUMPKIN AND SPOOKY CONTENT. GET READY BITCHES.

Anyone who knows me knows basic white fall is basically my personality. Pumpkins, leaves, red lip, and of course, Halloween. This means that it’s time for my annual viewing of the Nightmare Before Christmas, starring my one true love; Jack Skellington. Yes, I am basically a relic from Hot Topic. Fight me.

But, fall also means my birthday, which always makes me a bit more introspective and reflective, but don’t worry; the overthinking and general neurosis remains. I was ordered to plan something for my birthday because my sweet angel fiancé understands that I have an unhealthy obsession with birthdays stemming from a childhood that was devoid of love and the first time anyone I considered family celebrated my birthday was when I went into foster care. If I like you, there is a million percent chance I have gone buck wild about your birthday at least once. Unfortunately, he won’t be able to celebrate with me until ten days later, but he still wants me to be happy. I haven’t celebrated my birthday in almost three years, so I’m excited to have some friends over to play games and drink wine.

The last two years have been some of the most challenging and transformative of my entire life. I was tested emotionally, physically, and financially, to the point where I genuinely believed I would lose everything. I devoted every second of my life to protect someone I loved from their darkest urges and was afraid to leave them alone for a second. My job was ripped out from under me as I was on the cusp of building a way to do good for people who need it, and I was drowning in debt. My health was poor and I missed the wedding of one of my closest friends. I gained all of the weight I worked to lose. My mom was diagnosed with dementia and I was a full time caregiver with no help from my family. I genuinely had days where I just didn’t want to wake up anymore and it was only muscle memory keeping me going. But life has a way of pulling you forward to the light if you just believe that you can get there.

And I did.

No, I haven’t lost all of the weight. I’m 44lbs down and halfway to where I want to be again. No, I am not a zillionaire, I don’t have a pet penguin, money is still tight, and woodland creatures do not clean my house.

But I DO have a job that I love, my two youngest children are starting amazing educational adventures and I’m so proud of them. I have myself back, and that’s in part to a small but amazing group of friends who stayed in the trenches with me until the bitter end, and I’m so grateful for them.

There’s my best friend in the entire universe, who has been by my side during the bleakest moments of the last two years. She drove my kid to the hospital while I was stuck in Red Deer. She was the only person who came to a holiday party, even though she had been in a serious accident the day before. She gave me a pep talk when her attempt to fix me up went poorly, telling me that I deserved someone who would move mountains for the privilege of loving me. I don’t know where I’d be without her, and while she would tell you she is evil, I would tell you everything she’s ever done is right and good.

We also need updated selfies lol

There’s my best friend since high school, who was my lifeline during the darkest times. She helped me understand my own kid better, and always had an ear. We didn’t get a pic this summer, but spending time with her and her family was one of the most magical parts of my summer. It was like nothing changed; we just sat and chatted, all we needed was coffee. She’s the level headed voice of reason I need when I let my emotions rule. I’m so grateful for her. There’s my former manager who’s become one of my friends. We communicate in memes, but I know if I ever need a friend (or a Nanalan meme) he’s right there.

There’s my other closest friend, who is a literal angel on Earth. She’s the most patient, empathetic, and understanding human being I know. She shares all of my nerdy interests and she’s so positive and warm, you can’t leave spending time with her and not feel happy. It’s just not possible.

It’s so easy to distance yourself from someone when they’re struggling. I had friends that I assumed would always be a part of my life, now we watch the other’s life play out on social media and she messages my fiancé her well wishes instead of being invited to my celebratory dinner or helping me plan my wedding. It’s so easy to ignore texts or pretend you don’t know someone anymore when they’re down and they aren’t able to do anything for you, or build you up. But my small circle didn’t do that. They pulled me closer during a time when I didn’t even want to exist. Now I’m on the other side of it all, in my beautiful house in my favourite city, with my incredible family and cats, professionally and personally fulfilled. I look at my life now and I’m filled with gratitude for the people who were there for me during the absolute worst of times, and now I get to celebrate so many happy things with them; birthdays, holidays, Vegas, and when I marry the man of my dreams. We get to celebrate milestones our kids achieve, and I’m just so grateful that they like me enough to put up with me.

I’m due for another spin around the sun, and for the first time in a long time, I’m so excited to celebrate what’s to come. The future just feels warm and bright, and I can’t wait to see what fall 2024 brings for everyone I love.

Night Drive

by maryhelenc, posted in Life, MH vs Dating, My New Life As Me, Relationships

GUESS WHO IS GETTING MARRIED?!

LOOK AT THIS RING!

That’s right! ME. You probably guessed because if you follow me on social media, you would know that this ring is going to be my personality for the next eleventy million years. I’d apologize, but I am not the least bit sorry.

Also, before we get too deep into this, here are the ring details. It’s a 2.03 carat emerald cut lab diamond centre stone set in rose gold with a hidden halo. He designed the ring. I did not give any input. Yes, he’s that amazing and knew exactly what I wanted and designed it for me while I was sleeping.

Let us continue. I’m sure you have many questions, starting with how did this happen, why did this happen, and aren’t you afraid of commitment?

How is pretty straightforward. I had been telling my partner for weeks that if my beloved Oilers won the Stanley Cup, he should come to Edmonton for the festivities. INSTEAD THEY LOST (please respect my privacy during this time). To my surprise, he’d booked a flight and showed up anyway! We went for dinner and I took him to my favourite part of the city, and he asked me to marry him. No fancy speech, but he did cleverly take the ring out of the box so I had no idea he had it with him. He also didn’t get on one knee because it had rained and he didn’t want to get into the mud. My children and girl friends had been teasing him, but it’s since been corrected. It was private, simple, and perfect; zero chance a lady would say no.

For why did this happen?

I guess the short answer is because I’m in love with the man. Truthfully, I probably always have been in some way or another. The longer answer is much more complicated.

As kids we were wildly incompatible. In the height of young love, he told me he was going to marry me someday and I laughed at him, because I wasn’t the marrying type. Back then I had wild dreams of travelling the world as a reporter. I wanted to interview celebrities and travel to war zones. I didn’t want to be someone’s wife, and he wanted a picket fence and 2.5 kids. He told me when I was done adventuring, he intended to change my mind, but instead of him changing my mind, we just changed.

He grew resentful that my career aspirations came before his devotion and ended our young love affair abruptly. I nursed my broken heart and refocused on the goals; leaving our hometown and becoming a writer. When the dust settled, we restored our friendship, and he swore when I came home for Christmas, he’d win back my affection and change my mind. I did visit that Christmas, but we were both seeing someone else.

As time moves, so do priorities. Young love settles into friendship, and the days where you thought they were the one fade into the background. I got married out of necessity, and divorced to save my life. I raised my kids and went on my adventures, and he married a lovely person; getting the picket fence and family. Everyone got what they wanted, or so it seemed. Unfortunately, things don’t always work out the way you think they will.

Decades after our first date, we were both single again. However, we were both still stubborn. I wouldn’t leave the mountains, still wouldn’t be his wife. He insisted that he couldn’t leave his job, so I HAD to change my mind and move to his hometown, but I can’t uproot my family, not to mention I do not like when men tell me what to do. Soon enough, he called to tell me how he’d met someone else because he couldn’t wait for me to decide, and I faked the “I’m so happy for you,” while licking my wounds, burned by the fire of a flame almost rekindled. Through the ups and downs, and even a period where a jealous partner forbade us from speaking, the friendship always remained.

This time, he came to me, despite a fear of flying. Gone was the rigidity that had been there before. No longer was I expected to uproot my life. Now, I was free to remain in the mountains and we would balance our time. There were no conditions or expectations; he just loved me for me. No one had ever loved me for just me; not even he did the first time. I didn’t have to do anything or even reciprocate feelings; he just loves me. When someone loves you just as you are, without any conditions, it’s easy to decide what you want and how you feel. He works so hard to make me happy. He loves the kids and they view him as the father figure they’ve always wanted. He laughs at my jokes that aren’t funny and doesn’t get mad when I’m being irrational or annoying. He’s so damn good and the easiest person on Earth to love. How could you not want to marry someone like that? It took two decades but he finally changed my mind.

As for commitment, don’t worry, I’m still TERRIFIED. Fortunately my fiancé is a very patient man because most of our life together consists of me asking if he’s mad at me, if his family and friends like me, if he’s mad at me because what if his family and friends don’t like me, and panicking when we pick something for the wedding, reminding him that he doesn’t have to marry me. I’ve never known a life that is this easy. All of my previous relationships were chaotic or violent, sometimes both. I’ve spent all of my life scratching and clawing for everything I have, even if it seems insignificant to the rest of the planet. I struggle to rescind control and allow myself to work with a partner to build a life. He’s grown to be patient and open minded; I am still stubborn and determined to do everything on my own. I’m still annoying and the hardest person to love; I worry when he figures it out, he’ll be the one the change his mind. We absolutely cannot rule out that I will drive him bonkers while we blend a family and decide where we will live (eventually), and while we have talked about last names, I’ve been pretty open that I don’t want to change mine. But, if I don’t drive him completely insane, we are going to get married, and despite the geographical distance, for the first time in my life, I don’t feel like the ground is going to cave in from under me, and I can finally be happy and secure with a partner, who actually means it when they say they love me, even if wedding plans cause me to hyperventilate.

As for the ring spam, sorry folks, that’s not changing. Please accept my insincere apology.

The ring must be on display in every photo lol

Anti-Curse

by maryhelenc, posted in Current Events, Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

The worst part of being a woman is that no one listens to you.

For those of you who are new to my life (but for real, I’m not that cool), three years ago I went to the doctor for a health issue. I was always tired, I gained a ton of weight despite no dietary changes, my hair was falling out. My doctor completed a biopsy, decided that even though there were irregularities, I actually had PCOS; I did not. She misdiagnosed me and prescribed medication that triggered a pulmonary embolism that almost killed me.

(In addition to being the most insane night of my life, some random person stole my necklace with a ring I wore every single day, which was a gift from my most favourite human that I didn’t give birth to. I stil get upset when I think about it. If you are the person who stole it, fuck you)

My life expectancy and quality of life has been irrevocably damaged as a result of this mistake, all which could have been avoided if SOMEONE GOD DAMN LISTENED TO ME. But the problem didn’t go away. I have to get blood work before I travel, be mindful of medications, and make sure I’m doing my part to prevent this from happening again.

Fast forward to modern day. I’ve switched doctors twice. I’ve switched OB/GYN’s twice. I’ve seen a dietician because I need to lose weight, but also NO SHIT SHARON THAT IS PRECISELY THE REASON I COME TO THE DOCTOR. I GAINED A FUCK TON OF WEIGHT FOR NO DAMN REASON. I’ve had enough blood drawn for the same seven tests that I could feed a whole ass Cullen family. But the only answer I get is “have you considered losing weight?” Like, no. I love having a deflated self esteem and shudder when people ask me to take pics of them. It’s great for me. I am having the best time, I swear.

I had all but given up and accepted that things were just gonna be like this forever, when I saw an IG post that changed the game. Former WWE Divas Champion Maryse Mizanin talked about how she saw doctor after doctor but no one listened to her about similar symptoms until finally, an OB/GYN listened and found multiple tumours that were pre-cancerous. Persistence saved her life. But it also showed me that even women who were wealthy, had resources, would be ignored.

Reading her story made me realize I shouldn’t just accept “it’s your anxiety,” or “why aren’t you losing weight.” Finally, after many moons of asking and finally screaming, my doctor ordered an ultrasound to see if something had changed since the one my old doctor said was “mostly fine.” Well, now it’s not fine. There are multiple cysts, possible polyps, and this means a second biopsy next week, followed by an endometrial ablation, and possibly a hysterectomy. If you think one horrifically invasive procedure is gross, why not THREE?! So fun right?!

Naturally, the first thing I did…was cry. After all, if something is seriously wrong, who’s gonna run my house?! Who will take care of my cats?! Two of my kids are underage. Is their sister ready to be a guardian? Their dad isn’t involved at all, so he’s not really a factor. My mom needs constant care. Who’s gonna do that? There’s the miserable feeling when you remember you get to drive yourself to the horribly invasive procedure and then drive yourself home, because your partner lives many time zones away and this means you’re on your own kid. Fortunately, I’ll also buy myself ice cream for being brave. I can’t exactly take time off from my job, despite my boss being the best and making sure that I prioritize my health. But I have one income to support many people. I can’t afford time off. Sometimes I stare at my ceiling in my room and comment to myself that I simply do not have time for this, and how dare my body inconvenience me in this way. Mostly I am just angry and scared. Maybe if someone had listened to me before, this would all be behind me. Instead, I almost died (but don’t worry, my OB/GYN says the first pulmonary embolism won’t kill you, so that’s…good? I guess?), lost my most prized possession, haven’t seen any real improvements, and now have to go through a ton of gross procedures while also trying to get my mom to do basic hygiene, plan my oldest’s birthday, attend two graduations, and I need the Oilers to win this series because Doughnut Party and Stanley Cup.

All hail Connor McDoughnut

Also, I can’t be the only one who has a very real fear of waking up during the procedure because the anaesthesia didn’t work, am I? because this is a very real concern for me, and maybe a step or two below geese on the terror scale.

I don’t have time for this. But mostly, it just sucks that almost every woman on Earth has a story just like this, where a doctor didn’t listen to them, and things ended up a mess. However, like all things, there’s always some kind of silver lining. I have some days in lieu I can use for the day I go in for my biopsy. I have a wonderful eldest child who offered to come with me (I still have to drive and buy my own ice cream lol). I have an incredible partner who is so supportive and loving while I have a manic episode and then contemplate my own mortality. My younger kids have been helping me keep up the housework. My friends care about me. Also, thanks to Weight Watchers I’m down 35lbs. My people always show up for me, even if the medical profession lets me down.

I also learned a valuable lesson, which is to keep advocating even if it seems no one is listening. I need to take some accountability too. I felt unheard so I gave up. Maybe if I had just kept on it the way I should’ve done all along. Maybe then I’d have answers sooner instead of thirty more blood tests. It’s a shame that almost every woman has felt ignored by a doctor, and I’m so grateful that more women are talking about it. Maybe eventually we will reach a point where our concerns are taken seriously the first time and not just “maybe not even never.”

Private Eye

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Life, MusicIsLifeIsMusicIsLife, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, When Things Suck Hard

My favourite game to play online is “read my old Facebook memories and remember how cringy I used to be.”

I’ve always been a pretty ridiculous person, I always remind people that the more trauma you’ve been through, the funnier you get to be, so naturally, I am the most hilarious person on this planet (I have references). But I also don’t really shy away from cringy or stupid, and I’m always so amused by how much dumb shit I used to post online. Over the years I’ve realized how important it is to be fiercely protective of yourself and your life, which is why my social media feed is mainly just memes and my cats. When you give too much of yourself, you open up yourself for people to take parts of you. That’s something I’ve learned is a non negotiable.

(Although I also learned that I was ahead of the COVID curve by about four years)

This also helped me learn that I’ve lived in Edmonton for NINE YEARS. Guys. I stayed in one place for nine years! Through the stalker ex boyfriends that showed up at my hotel, job changes, life changes, friendships, and 300 bad dates, I am still here. Who saw this coming?I wonder if it’s because I truly love my home city, or simply because I’ve run out of places to run. Vancouver is pretty expensive, and after that it’s the ocean. I’d run east but I’m allergic to fish so what do I eat in the Maritimes? I always vowed never to backtrack, so maybe I’ve reached the limits of how far I can run.

Those who know me well know that when it comes to fight, flight, or freeze, I only have one response; run. Name your scenario and I assure you I have run from it. Job losses, breakups, mild inconveniences, a fierce desire to escape my hometown and never return, there is no situation where I can’t look at it and go “yup, I’m out of here,” and run like Hell. I have run from every relationship I’ve ever had, save for the one I should have sprinted away from like Usain Bolt. I once fled a party in the middle of the night thanks to a conversation that consisted of only two words. Hell, I tried to run away from my own wedding, and only said “I do” because of the rain. You name it, I’ve probably bolted out the door as far away from it as humanly possible. Men who could have been good for me (or terribly bad for me) have been left in the dust as I pleaded with my mind to invent a reason why it could never work and run into the night. I’ve never stayed in one place for more than three years because there’s always something I need; to write, to escape, to create space. No where was off limits except for my hometown; I used to wish on stars that I’d leave and never look back. Some people look at their hometown as a fun nostalgic place. For me it’s a source of trauma that slowly chipped away at the bright eyed little girl I was, leaving the woman that I am. While I take solace that the trauma has made me HILARIOUS, the more space I can put between me and that town of evil, the better.

(Somewhere, a cousin or a friend is gonna read this and tell me it’s not that bad, but I assure you, you will never convince me. I can be stubborn, and I will never back down on this point)

But I’m still here. Sure the house isn’t the same, as it took me a couple of tries to find the right one, but my house provides me with a sense of stability I’ve never really had outside of living in my foster home. There are no spectres of tenants past haunting the walls or my mailbox. Gone are the days of wondering who the person behind the mis-delivered credit card bills is; this is my home. My daughter intends to start university here in the fall and I am so fiercely proud of that young woman. My job is the most fun I’ve ever had in the workforce. It combines my favourite things; playing with new tech, and talking your ear off until you will hear my voice in your sleep. My friends are here. Even though my best friend out here is a Markham export, I couldn’t navigate life without her and her insanity. She’s the best human being alive (she will tell you she is evil), and my life is made better because she’s my friend and we have ramen. But every friend I’ve made out here has been the best person, and while I miss my friends back home (I haven’t seen anyone in SIX YEARS), I wouldn’t want to do life without the weirdos out here I call my friends.

Look at this ramen

As part of my never ending quest to be the best type of person I can be, I’ve allowed my therapist to really help me dive in to the why factor. Why is it that I always need to leave? Part of it was to escape a childhood that left me abused and damaged that I was terrified I wouldn’t be a good person. Most of my formative years were spent fleeing from situations; evictions, poverty, cycles of abuse. The only stability I ever had was in a foster home and that was only six years. I don’t think I ever knew what stability was and I decided it had an expiration date on it. The only time I ever doubled down was on my marriage, where I was determined to make it work, even though everyone and their dog knew it was wrong, including me. Between the feelings like I owed him and the guilt that stemmed from trying to race out of there, I resigned myself to staying, no matter how poorly I was treated or how many bruises I ended up with. I always joke that I’ve been engaged twice and married once, and never has it been my decision. If you ever run into him, he will tell you how I’m a life ruining succubus that destroyed his potential, but every story needs a villain, maybe I’m his. The only thing of permanence in my life was my role as a mother to my children. Homes, cities, relationships are all expendable except for them, and they come with me.

So why am I still here? What is it about Edmonton that keeps me here? Is it the space that allows me to live in a big city without feeling suffocated? Is it my friends? The close proximity to mountains? Did I finally exorcise my demons and leave them with the leeches in Lake Huron, never to haunt me again. Maybe it was the desire to give my kids stability. Maybe I secretly love the cold. Truthfully, I couldn’t tell you, but for the first time in my life, I feel like I have a real home and no desire to check indeed and pack up again. The feeling of “home” that I’ve chased since I was a child seems to be here, or I’ve deluded myself, but either way, it’s magical. Every time someone visits me I show them around like a proud parent at the art fair. I even like the Oilers. Maybe it’s because I started dedicating myself to giving back to this community that has brought me the peace and belonging I’ve craved since I was five years old that I finally can stop moving (unless I switch houses again, but I doubt it. I’ll die here).

My therapist thinks that perhaps my desire to stay in Edmonton and build a less nomadic life for my family is a sign of growth, and I can finally stop running away from my emotions. I can assure him that’s probably not the case, as one time someone got all let’s talk about our feelings and I almost crashed my car into a Volvo. But it’s nice to see that I’m capable of remaining in one place and finding the feeling of home.

Now That We Don’t Talk

by maryhelenc, posted in Fitnesslicious, Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Social Media, Terrible choices I make, When Things Suck Hard, work life

It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?

I realized that I haven’t really had the energy to write anything in a long time. The truth is that I didn’t know what to write about. I didn’t really feel confident in my abilities in really anything, and for a long time I’ve been going through the motions. But I’ve been sitting at home down sick with the flu, which has freed up some time to actually be creative and write something.

There hasn’t been much to discuss. I’ve been grieving the loss of a twenty year friendship and it’s crushed me to my core. I have actually mourned this more than my divorce, and even several deaths. This was more than a friendship; they were quite literally the most important non related person in my entire life. I genuinely felt like they were my human in this life, and I didn’t even care how one sided the friendship was getting. I was begging to make plans, they only reached out when they needed to vent. When I was at rock bottom, navigating my weight, my mom, and my mentally ill teenager, I broke down over a pair of pants. Was it dramatic? OF COURSE I WAS OVERLY DRAMATIC! But I didn’t need to hear that. I wanted someone to see that I was breaking down under the pressure of my reality and just tell me that they cared and offered anything; a coffee, a hug, a stiff drink. Instead, I bawled alone on my bedroom floor in silence. I’ve sobbed on my floor so many more times since then; on my birthday, when I didn’t hear from them at all. On their birthday, when I extended an olive branch, desperately wanting my friend, only to be left on read. Even now, I catch myself when something happens in my day, or I get a new meme, because that’s the first person I want to talk to. From that positive work review, to my possible reconciliation with a former flame, I grab my phone to text, and then remember there’s no point. With my divorce, I was happy to be finally free, but this is like having a limb hacked off and expected to be the same. It’s really rattled me in ways I’ve never imagined.

But much like in all things, it’s important to take this experience and use it to grow. I’ve been doing a lot of reflection. I asked my most honest of all of the friends if I was off base over ramen. She said of course I was dramatic, because I’m always dramatic. However, a little basic human empathy would have been nice, and it’s a good thing I didn’t call her, because she has only one feeling.

This is actually not true, and she’s the best person ever. She has been with me during some of the darkest times, taken my daughter to the hospital, and was the only person who showed up to my holiday party even though she had been in a car wreck three days earlier. We need more people like her in our lives).

This gave me an epiphany. I’ve been trying so hard to get back to the old me, but the old me is dead and gone.

I loved the old me, and I currently hate the current me. But I also have to accept that the old me is gone. She died under the weight of a million tasks, inflation, and exhaustion. She can’t come back because she isn’t right for this version of my life and that’s okay. So I realized I needed to grieve for the person I used to be, because she can’t live in this current reality. I need to let her go so I can rebuild her as someone who I can love again.

That didn’t mean that pieces of her can’t come back. It just meant that some things would never be the same. Instead of praying to be who I used to be, I had to look at my life and ask “who am I now?” And then learn to love her. I keep getting stuck because I’m trying to get back to a person who can’t exist anymore. My life has changed dramatically since then. I’m now a full time caregiver to an elderly parent. I work a completely different job. Inflation has changed how much extra money I have. I enjoy being alone more than I ever have before. There isn’t a world to house the old MHC anymore because it’s also dramatically changed. I’ve been failing at all of my goals because I keep trying to walk backwards to a life and a world that isn’t there anymore. I’ve spent years learning to pivot and move forward no matter how bad things got in my life, but I fell into a holding pattern and couldn’t get out.

So, I started making it a point every day to do something to get out of Groundhog Day. From weekend cardio with my 6km walks to Starbucks, working out at night, and making it a point to get a good night’s sleep every night. In order to get back to a person I like, I have to create her from the ground up again. Sometimes it feels so exhausting to constantly have to adapt, but as my daughter would say “sucks.” The truth is that we will always have to adapt. Marriages end, friendships fall apart, relatives die, jobs can be lost. But you can’t just expect to go back to the way it used to be when the way it used to be no longer exists. Instead, you just have to learn how to become the best version of you in your new reality.