Look what I found today! My original portfolio, containing my first published pieces! Hard to believe that it’s been seven years, 200 articles & 26 feature interviews later & it’s still the only thing I want to do.
Category: My New Life As Me
Gone Gone Gone
Today I went on a hilarious shopping trip with a friend whom I met in college. We talked about a great many things, including why I will never be “Gangsta.” But we also talked about why words can’t hurt if you don’t let them.
I recently received a letter from a former friend, that was full of scathing vitriol and a bunch of other negative things. The timing of said letter was amusing, as I had been very vocal about my recent academic and employment successes, weight loss success, and how my life is basically all around awesomesauce. It almost seemed like the former friend was trying to drag me down because I frankly, didn’t care that they weren’t in my life right now, as they don’t fit in the plan and had damaged my trust beyond repair. It was like this person was almost bitter that I carried on without those people in my life, so they needed to try and knock me down a peg, either because of jealousy or pettiness, or whatever, but people handle things differently and all feelings are valid and should be respected. However, I laughed and threw it out.
We talked about something I mentioned awhile ago, which is that we need to stop sugar coating words like “fat” or “depressed” and just take them for what they are. We both said that words, once embraced, lose their power. During my last year of school, I often took shots on my GPA, calling myself “the dumb one.” People often wondered why I did it, but it was because I knew there were certain students that would attempt to use my academic probation to make me feel lower, and damage my self-worth. So, I owned it: “Yup, I’m dumb. I have a crappy GPA. I suck. Hahaha.” However, that meant that those people couldn’t do that to hurt me anymore.
I said to a friend the other day, that I use things that people use to bring me down because by owning those things, whether true or not, you cannot hurt me with those slurs. I am most certainly not dumb. In fact, when it comes to certain subjects, I often had the highest grades in the class and the reviews of my published work are almost completely flawless. However, if I let those insults roll off of my back like that, they lose all power. Much like the idea of the word “fat.” I’m fat, which is why I’m working on a diet and weight loss plan, which has allowed me to lose 31lbs so far. I’m not going to hide behind sugar coating to make things feel warm and fuzzy. A spade is a spade. Blonde is blonde. Fat is fat. A big nose is a big nose. None of these things are a reflection of who you are as a person. It’s just what is, just like having blue eyes. If you don’t like being fat; fix it. If you want to expand your mind; read a book. But don’t sugar coat your life.
So, if someone needs to send me a nasty letter to try and bring down the place I am in, good for you. I hope that you feel better that you got all of that out. I’m perfectly fine with people thinking I’m a half crazy, over-sensitive crybaby with a fat ass and is destined to become a cat lady while pining away for someone & their child. I’m also completely awesome; strong and beautiful, a double college graduate, a published writer who has interviewed 26 of the world’s most popular celebrities and has been published in various magazines over 200 times. I’m gainfully employed at a job that is not in my field, but offers me great financial compensation and benefits. I have great kids who are gifted in athletics, my 6yo is a straight A student and can read at a grade 3 level and my 3yo has the vocabulary of a child twice her age. They learned that from me. I’m charismatic and charming, witty and funny and a fund of useless information. But sure, I’m a nutcase too. Whatever.
Words are just that. Words. Don’t let them hurt you. Take them back, own them. Even if they are not true, it doesn’t matter. It’s just a matter of showing people that they can’t bring you down with their hateful words. Embrace your best self and don’t let people nitpick your flaws to hurt you by embracing them too.
Light it Up
While I have a love/hate relationship with the Facebook, I LOVE George Takei.
Mr. Takei’s humour is dry and witty, but he also gives a lot of thoughts on the LGBT community, which I enjoy as well. While I am not gay, I do have LGBT friends and relatives and I want them to enjoy the same basic human rights as I do. I do not feel that it conflicts with my religious beliefs as Jesus himself never mentioned it once.
Anywho, today while mentioning waiting on the Supreme Court’s ruling regarding Prop 8, several people spoke out against the idea of same sex marriage. The normal bigotry was there, but then one woman made a comment that the LGBT community only wants to get married “to mince down the aisle and throw a big party.”
Speaking as someone who cares very little for matrimony (more on that HERE) I must say that this is, by far, the stupidest thing I have ever heard in my entire life. Clearly this woman has never watched one of those stupid wedding shows like “Say Yes to the Dress” or “Bride Wars” or any of that other crap. Most straight women I know care only about mincing down the aisle and a throwing a big party. I barely planned my first wedding, I honestly grew bored with details and my MIL kept taking over so finally I just let her. I really didn’t care. I’m not one to plan a big thing where I’m the centre of attention and means nothing in the grand scheme of things. It’s a big, expensive party. Even when I was casually planning ideas for a wedding (more to mock the idea of Pinterest. Seriously, Pinterest is effing stupid as Hell), I picked a colour scheme for each season, and then stopped caring. Personally, I was more excited about the idea of the marriage; the dinners with the kids, the paying of the mortgage, the arguments about money, the family vacations, and the idea of waking up next to him each morning and watching crappy television with him at night while talking about the day @ work. I wanted a life with him, one that we built together, even when it was hard, or we didn’t get along or drove each other nuts. I wanted the day in & day out moments, housework & car repairs & field trips & to grow old with him. When I thought about our life together, I thought about the life. I’d learn to be a better housekeeper, he’d learn to communicate. I thought about the simple joy of being with him forever. I didn’t need a party or a piece of paper to do those things.
To imply that only the LGBT community care about the elaborate party when TLC revels in brides screaming at their families about wanting to look like a fairy princess and “IT’S MY DAY!” is a titch bit ridiculous. The day isn’t about the bride being a fairy princess; it’s about two people telling family and friends “This is my choice. I chose this person to stand beside me in life, to own property and raise a family with. This person may not be your choice, but s/he is mine and I want to make that choice legal.” Everyone deserves that right, whether it’s two males, two females, or a man and a woman. Everyone deserves that chance and I hope the US grants that right.
I have been to many weddings in the last five years, and I can honestly say that every single bride was looking forward to playing dress up more than investing in the marriage, save for one. It’s no surprise that all of these marriages are on the rocks or have ended, except for that one, who are living a happy life with their young daughter. People put more time into the wedding than the marriage, and then they fail. This is not limited to the LGBT community. This is EVERYONE. The opposite is true too. I put very little effort into planning my wedding and that marriage failed too. Maybe we need to find a balance. Plan a wedding, but not so you’re a fairy princess; but that you’re hosting an event for friends and family to celebrate your choice. Make the marriage the focus, not the centrepieces. It’s not about mincing down an aisle or dresses or flowers; it’s about making a partnership. So, whether it’s a same sex union or a heterosexual one, the focus needs to be on the union; not the party.
Last October
I have a hippie friend.
I love my hippie friend. She is strong, brave, wise and generally sorts things out for me that confuse the eff out of me.
Well, lately I’ve been trying to sort through some stuff & I didn’t know how to understand it, so I went to the hippie and the unlikeliest of sources.
I’ve had a bit of a falling out with some close friends over the last year, three to be exact. While one of them & I are reconnecting a bit on social media, her & I not being as close as we were has been kind of a sore spot with me, because I missed her. While outwardly, I acted like it didn’t bother me, my counselling sessions and chats with the hippie often mentioned my longing for my friendship with her, the support, the brutal honesty, the mutual love of cats and her adorable son. I wanted to apologize for sort of passing the buck about a few things, not adequately explaining what was bothering me, etc. but didn’t know how. The absence of regular conversations with this friend affected me. I was in a funk, my grades slipped, my heart was heavy. Combined with the end of a relationship with a person that meant so much to me, it was hard to pull myself out of the doldrums and I became Debbie Downer, which for anyone who knows me knows that is not me.
However, I later learned two of my best friends had lied to me about a lot of things because hurting me was mean or some such garbage and we’ve kind of distanced ourselves, to the point where the friendship seems to have ended. However, there was no despondency. There was a lot of focus on self-improvement, a lot of realization that I spent a lot of time saying “Well, they think…” and I realized how few major life decisions I have made on my own since the divorce. However, I didn’t feel that gutting agony of them not being there. I just kept on working. I got a job…and another one. My grades went up. I focused on losing weight. I felt more confident in my choices. I’m not saying that they are bad people, in fact, they’re amazing people! But right now it seems that they don’t fit in my current life plan and strangely enough, I’m okay with that. There is no tears or begging or that feeling of desolation and hurt. It’s just “Oh, well that’s cool. Hope they’re doing well.”
I asked the Hippie why and she said “some friends do not impact your person they are more peripheral? You enjoy them but they do not enrich your world and your life. Some people make a contribution to your world and they may not even be friends, but you are profoundly hurt by the loss of them in your life.”
While the friends made a positive impact in my life, things slowly changed and now the trust just isn’t there anymore. Meanwhile, the friend who I got annoyed with for being well meaning and even brutally honest & the man were the ones who enriched my life in deeper ways. It was the friend that I missed more than anything, even when I was annoyed. It was her birthday message that made me smile on the worst day ever. It was her random comments here and there that I would reply to. My children still long for that long lost person, that person whose departure from my life broke my heart in ways that I didn’t know could be done. The one I waited for months for, because I didn’t want a future without him, his child & his goodness. Because these people are a “person of value,” not just a friend.
I asked my ex-husband (because after all, the person who’s known me for almost half of my life should know something about me and despite the acrimonious split, for some reason, I still ask him stuff and vice versa. I guess it’s because deep down we know we still know the other one well) why the loss of some people just doesn’t seem to bother me and throughout my life, there have only been three people whose departures have affected me long term and he suggested that maybe they belonged in my life. I missed my friend, that’s why her picture is still on my wall. I didn’t bat an eyelash walking out on a long term union, but “nothing broke you like the loss of that man. I wish I could do something to help, especially for the girls’ sake, because you were all happy then.” “Person of Value” was actually a term that he used to use. While yes, we had friends in Windsor, none were valuable, I wasn’t valuable. His family was valuable, the people he’s met online are valuable because they enrich him in some way. I’m glad he’s found “Persons of value.”
I have a long time best friend who was a “Person of Value” to me. We had a falling out over a misunderstanding and we would only sporadically talk for 10 years. Finally, she messaged me on Facebook and we are talking again and it’s great. I feel so much happier with her presence in my life again. The years she wasn’t around, I missed her friendship, her bluntness and her constant “What do YOU think? You have to live with the choice,” which challenged me. My other high school best friend is another “Person of Value.” We’ve always kept in touch, but she is definitely one of my closest friends and role models and I love her for being in my life.
So, while I may not have all of the “Persons of Value” in my life again, it’s nice to know that I’m not weird for only truly wanting certain people in my life and not really mourning the rest. Maybe someday, the other friends will be a part of my life again, when fate dictates that we need each other. Until then, I wish them nothing but happiness and good health, because that’s what they deserve.
Pound The Alarm
Here’s my not so big secret; I’m overweight.
It’s not something I’m proud of. I’ve been struggling with my weight since a 150lbs weight gain 11 years ago. I’ve gone up and down and up and down and school didn’t permit me to have the best diet ever. This is why during my last semester, I started doing Stratusphere Yoga and running 5k every other day to start getting in shape. I’m seeing results slowly as I change my diet, less greasy foods and more focus on dairy, fruits and veggies and drinking more water. All good things and my pants are indicative of the results.
I’m doing all of this because I need to be accountable to myself for my body. After all, it’s mine alone and I need to take responsibility for my body and how I look. So, I do things like exercise, change my eating habits, etc. If I eat ice cream and gain weight, then that is my fault too.
This brings me to the idea of “fat shaming” that I wrote about awhile ago and something a fellow writer has said on his Facebook page. This is that while no, we shouldn’t shame you if you weren’t built to be a size 0, or if that isn’t the look you strive for, we should stop sugar coating obesity as what it is; fat. I am fat. I know this. I am aware of this and I don’t need people to shame me into feeling bad about myself. But I also know that I am accountable for being fat and if I want to change it, the buck stops with me.
I hate it when people say “It’s not my fault,” and then order the double Big Mac with super sized fries and then cry about people commenting about their weight gain. Well, you didn’t wake up nearly 400lbs. You made the choices that made you obese. While some people will never be smaller than a women’s size 18, that’s how their body is built and they might have worked hard to achieve those results. Wanting to be in the best shape for your size is not a bad thing.
I have a friend who is a big girl and she works it. She knows she’s fat and she has a positive self image and I think she’s amazeballs for it. What bothers me is these people who claim that they are “totally cool” with their bigger selves and then complain about people who either have no patience to sugar coat the truth or someone thinner, by continuously insulting them, or making reference to their skinny ass. No one is going to hold your hand through life or magically help you lose weight. You need to put in the time and the work. If you don’t, then don’t complain when people don’t tell you how great you look.
I guess I’m saying these things because for years, I made those excuses. It’s not my fault; I work crazy shifts, I have no time to work out, running is for losers, I like ice cream, etc. and there was always a reason why I couldn’t work out. But I was only hurting myself when I couldn’t fit in the cute clothes that I liked, etc. Now I work out with my kids in the room with me (they don’t do the poses quite the same, but they try) and my track star daughter comes running with me sometimes. I go @ night after they’ve gone to bed and use the track across the street from my house. My reminding myself that I am responsible for my body and only I can make it look how I want, then I can focus on sticking to my goals.
So, everyone has two choices. You can be fat or you can work to get in shape. But no one can make you fat and no one can help you get in shape. Those two choices are your call.
Butterfly Kisses
In honour of Father’s Day, I’ve decided to write about my relationship with my own father figures.
My father passed away when I was five years old, so I was that kid who sat out of craft time while the other kids got to make their paper neckties. It was pretty demoralizing and likely didn’t help with that fear of isolation, but I’m not here to psychoanalyze myself.
I’ve often wondered if my dad would be proud of the person I’ve become, or if he would think I was some kind of raging screw-up. I haven’t really been the best kid all of the time. I’ve lipped off to my mom, I’ve been a pain in the ass and I’ll likely never have a husband, namely because I don’t particularly see it as important and I don’t know if I want to date anyone ever again (my track record of cancelling the last 15 dates in a row is pretty telling), nor would my children accept anyone else besides the mate they want for me. My first marriage was a comedy of errors and my academic performance in any class that wasn’t english, the arts, sociology or media was pretty piss poor. I mean, yeah, I got the diplomas, but could I have been better? Am I the person that my father would be proud of? It’s something that weighs on me every single Father’s day.
Then there is my foster father, whom I call my dad. He is a great man, who encouraged me to be myself. He told me that I was a charismatic, dynamic young lady and people would be jealous of the person that I was, because all eyes go on me when I enter a room because I’m bright, witty, and charming. He taught me to be myself, trust my own instincts and believe that I was capable of anything. Somewhere I lost those lessons along the way and I guess I need to reclaim those lessons, because my dad is a smart man and he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t believe it. He’s the most important male influence I’ve ever had and I hope he’s proud of me too. Sometimes I wonder, for all of the reasons listed above. Maybe I don’t live up to my full potential. Maybe I don’t surround myself with the right people. Maybe I screw up the positive relationships in my life to spend time with people who hold me back from being my best self. I don’t know, but I know that I hope he’s proud of me.
So, these are the things I think about every single father’s day. I hope all of the dads out there are having a great day. To the stepdads who pick up the slack for the deadbeats and the dads that take their job seriously, I commend you. To the single moms going it alone, be proud of yourselves. To the grandpas and uncles and male role models who step up when no one else is there and come out to family outings, etc. I hope you know how important you are.
Before Tomorrow Comes
As Hannibal from the A-Team said, “I love it when a plan comes together.”
I love when I take a look at my life and things are going almost EXACTLY the way I want them to. I’ve been out of school for a little over a month and I’m already starting a job next week. It’s not in either field, but it’ll pay bills, which is great. However, tomorrow I have interviews for two more positions, both more financially lucrative. Again, not in my fields of study, but still rewarding. I also have a meeting to close up another chapter in my life that has been plaguing me for some time. That’s behind me too. My weight loss and fitness goals are being met, and I’m healthier. All of these things are good things and remind me of how easily I can make things happen when I put my mind to them.
I’ve even had a couple of really positive chats with “the dad.” While we’ll never be friends, we understand each other a bit better now. He’s on medication and I’ve long accepted that my inability to provide genuine romantic love for him contributed to the end of the union. It doesn’t excuse his actions, but I don’t think I helped boost his self esteem either. However, he did remind me to make sure that I make my own choices, because “Your friends; they control you. Don’t let them do it anymore.” (I’m not sure if I 100% believe that, but I have had a few people tell me this lately) He also gave some advice about love, believe it or not, because when I was happy, he wasn’t terribly thrilled, but now he realizes things are better if I’m happy & wishes that the kids could get their way because they were happier then too (which is weird, when your ex-husband says you were better off with someone else. He’s not wrong, but it’s huge growth for a guy who once told me his only joy would be when I was miserable). Will we ever have our pre-marriage friendship back? Unlikely. But we can co-parent without killing each other…right now. We’ll see how long this truce lasts, because we’ve both wrecked those truces before. I have to give him a lot of credit for this current truce, he’s been doing more for the kids and trying to get along with me, which has been good for the girls.
My hippie friend and my amazeballs Texan tell me that I need to recapture my “MH-ness” which is that I take no crap from anyone. I’m dominant and life is my bitch. So, that’s how I will carry myself, because that’s who I am and I’m proud of who I am. So, much like Hannibal, I love when a plan comes together. Things are all working in a direction so that my life will be almost exactly the way I want it. It will never be 100% the way I want it, but almost is better than not @ all, and I’ll take almost right now.
My friend the Texan told me that the hair Gods are in my favour, so that is coming together too.Graduation
I’m live blogging convocation!
***actually everyone I know got their diploma & this is how I kill time. Also my hair looks really cute & I wanted to show it off***
I’m so proud of my classmates for their accomplishments. To my classmates, whether you are here or not, or have to make up a class & graduate in December, I’m so honoured that I met you, got to work with you & become friends with you. I think you’re all amazing & I look forward to seeing what our next chapter holds.
Congrats class of 2013. Take your bow. You deserve this moment.
Can’t Be Tamed
I was backing up my external hard drive last night and I got looking at a great many things, including old letters that I wrote last January and various old photos.
I was showing them to my mom who said “You look more like you did in your early 20’s than you did in your early 20’s.” I had never noticed, but I guess that’s true. Between the weight loss and the fact that I am no longer under constant stress from late night arguments, money woes, etc. that maybe I do look younger.
Here is a photo essay of the style evolution of MHC!
I’ve focused more on my physical appearance again, focusing on eating the right foods, drinking more water, taking care of my skin and yes, I do look better. Younger? I don’t know, but if so, maybe I’m Benjamin Button (I have had younger friends be mistaken for my mother…more than once). However, I’ve always taken pride in my appearance, even though it sometimes seems like some kind of sin to do so. Women who wear makeup are vain and vapid and incapable of being bright and witty. However, I think liking how you look on the outside will help you like yourself on the inside. You need to like your reflection and during the second picture, I didn’t, even with the pink hair and piercings (which I look back on as some sort of weird phase, trying to make up for how much I didn’t like myself by trying to make myself look better by being edgy and such). So, the better I felt about myself, the more pride I took in my appearance. Last year, I looked put together all of the time. My friends knew I wasn’t myself in the fall and winter because I wasn’t wearing makeup to classes and I just tossed my hair in a ponytail. I wasn’t taking pride in my appearance, which meant I likely didn’t like who I was inside. Now that I’ve taken control of my life, stopped letting my friends dictate how I handle situations (which caused a lot of crap in the fall and I made a mess of a lot of things, but I wanted to fix some situations and I didn’t trust my own judgment. But I learned a lesson in trusting my gut and not letting people convince me to do things their way) and stand firm in my own choices and truly feel independent, you can see the results. I look better. I’ve lost weight. I like who I see in the mirror, which transcends into me returning to my super dominant self.
There’s no shame in wanting to look good, because looking good helps you feel good. It might be that pick me up that you need to help motivate you to reach the next goal. It’s not just vanity; it’s taking pride in who you are and presenting your best self.
Wordless Wednesday: Watch Your Words
My friends know me so well.
Don’t hesitate to check out more of the silliness that I call my life on Instagram!
The Misadventures of MHC 