Category: My New Life As Me

Music Again

by maryhelenc, posted in Dorkdom, Douchers, MH vs Dating, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?

When I was a kid, I only had two goals in my life. I wanted to be a writer and I wanted to sing.

Wasn't I cute?
Wasn’t I cute?

Fast forward to my 19th year of life, when I took a chance and applied to Humber College’s Bachelor of Music program (and journalism to fall back on). Shockingly enough, I received an advanced acceptance to both! I was so excited and I told my music teacher Mrs. Christmas (no her first name wasn’t Mary. That was her husband’s first wife) who reiterated what the faculty @ Humber said, that my future in performing arts was limited because while I was a talented singer, I had a squeak. The squeak would prevent me from ever becoming a successful performer. So, I gave up on my dream of full time performing and focused solely on writing. This is likely for the best, as I am a much better performer than I am a singer.

Anywho, years later (you don’t need to know how many), my friend Yogi said she wanted to sing @ karaoke with me and I sent her an audio clip of me singing acapella and she told me that it was great! No mention of the dreaded squeak that made me somehow untalented. Just that I was awesome. So, from that day on, I accepted the squeak.

We all have something like that. I am an amazing person except for ____. However, we need to swap out “except” with “accept”. By embracing the things about us and the people around us that totally suck, we will be able to truly love ourselves for who and what we are. So, I will always accept the parts of me that suck and be completely accepting of my flaws, just like my squeak. I seriously contemplated uploading audio of me singing my favourite song (Stubborn Love by the Lumineers) because I’m pretty sure I squeak a lot, but I am techno stupid and I don’t know how to do that.

So, the next time someone says “you’re great except…” just swap that word for “accept” and love who you are, squeak and all.

Just a Step Away

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

Today on the way to church, my daughters made about a million wishes on dandelion fluff.

I remember as a child, I lived in a city and dandelions came few and far between, so when I saw one, I would race to it and make the most outlandish wish I could think of. I for a unicorn, to have magic powers, to become a princess, all sorts of silly things. I wanted to make that thing count.

My three year old hasn’t mastered the art of the “Don’t tell anyone or it won’t come true,” as she makes her wishes out loud. They’re all the same; “I wish the fluff would help Jesus find my best friend and bring her back to play with me forever.” My 6 year old wishes for more fluff, then screams “It came true!” like Anne Hathaway at the Oscars when she finds more fluff. My 11 year old still makes wishes and still treats them like they are sacred, not telling anyone and closing her eyes. I make wishes too, but as I’m allergic to pollen, knowing the little spores are going to become 900 more dandelions sucks some fun out of it.

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I love that something so simple, like a wish on dandelion fluff can make them so happy. It’s fun, and sometimes I still make wishes. Of course, I’m old enough to know that the dandelion fluff won’t bring me a unicorn, but sometimes it’s fun to think there is some magical property in a little fluffy ball. I mentioned finding the simple joys in my last post, and a few months ago, I talked about the idea that adults should still believe in magic…just a little. While we all know that only hard work gets us where we need to be, it’s nice to think that perhaps that wish we make on a star (which I still do, me and my love of stars) will somehow get us over that last hurdle and put it all together.

So, let’s all slow down, stop the hussle and bussle of our every day lives and make a silly little wish on some dandelion fluff. Enjoy the day and the small joys that come with something that simple. You might find yourself forgetting about the lawn and smiling, remembering the small child that enjoyed doing this oh so long ago.

Steal My Sunshine

by maryhelenc, posted in Dorkdom, Just Fun, My New Life As Me

This is my ode to my one true love (that isn’t writing): the sun.

I love the sun! It’s so warm & happy & everything is better when it happens on a sunny day. My personal slice of Heaven is listening to my eclectic blend of music while walking in the happy sunny sun. However, I do not tan. My father’s death from melanoma requires me to be more sun conscious (also, the only thing paler than me is a corpse. I burn way too easily. The sun & I have a complex relationship).

But my joy whenever I see the sun reminds me that every day can be made exponentially better through simple pleasures. Mine is molten magma in the sky & the soothing vocals of David Cook & Matt Nathanson (today). I’m sure you have one too, whether its that glass of wine after a long day, watching puppies play, et al. I couldn’t imagine living a life where simple little joys couldn’t make me happy. Maybe I’m just easily amused.

However, everyone should find their small joy & enjoy it today. Revel in life’s smallest pleasures, for they’re so much easier to find & plentiful.

As for me, I’ll be enjoying the sunshine.

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What Makes You Beautiful

by maryhelenc, posted in Douchers, Fitnesslicious, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?

I’ve been reading a lot about the idea of fat shaming and makeup shaming, etc. and how these are supposed to help women lose weight, give up the mascara, etc.

My good friend the Psych Major and her husband are known for this. They don’t hold back and will tell people “You’re fat” when asked. This causes a bit of strife with my other friends, as they call them narcissistic and think that the only thing that matters is physical appearance. Having known the Psych Major for her entire adult life, nothing could be further from the truth. She’s a loving, kind, gentle and understanding person. She just also calls a spade a spade and isn’t going to sugar coat it to make you feel better. If you ask her, she’ll tell you that you’re overweight. She won’t call you a fatty and bully you, but she’ll give it to you straight. I’m overweight and I know this. This is why I’ve chosen to work with a dietician and start a diet and exercise program to help me get in shape, make better food choices, etc. I’m not doing it because I feel I need to lose weight to please the masses, I want to set a good example for my children. Personally, I think we should all stop making excuses and get up off of the couch and focus on our health (not so much the size on our pants), myself included, even if it’s just 10 minutes of walking and drinking more water. But do I think we need to shame people through bullying and name calling? Nope. Not all women are built to be thin. Some people are going to be curvy, some thin, and some women are going to be thrilled to death that they’ve reached their skinny size of 20. When I read that Abercrombie & Fitch doesn’t sell clothes in women’s L or XL sizes so overweight people couldn’t wear their gear, I was shocked. I also realized that as a thin teenager I could never have owned a shirt from there, as my DD cup chest has never fit in a shirt smaller than a large.

But I have noticed for years that it’s considered socially acceptable to shame women for wanting to look nice. I wear makeup. I don’t do pounds of foundation, or even lipstick, but I do play up my eyes a lot and my makeup collection is in a huge trunk. I do it for me, because I like to look nice when I go out in public. Much like food, presentation is important and I think there’s something to be said for a person who puts themselves together. I have my bummy days, but I like to look nice when I go out in public. However, I will constantly read people say things like “Oh, she’s obviously more comfortable with herself because she doesn’t wear makeup or worry about clothes, etc.” or I’ll see people lying about how they never wear makeup while watching them put on their mascara. It’s almost like it’s some sort of sin to wear makeup. Women appear damned if we do and damned if we don’t. If we don’t wear makeup, then we’re some kind of pinko-femminazi, but if we do wear it, clearly we have crippling low self esteem and need it to feel some kind of self-worth.

I don’t understand why women should feel ashamed for wanting to take care of themselves. I may pray to Bath and Body Works and the L’Oreal corporation and use various products to help keep my skin hydrated and my face looking fresh, but I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to keep myself looking and feeling good. Obviously it’s working, as I know people who are younger than me who have been called my mother. If you’re not a makeup person, that’s cool, stay true to who you are, but there is no reason to belittle the women who enjoy make up and pedicures either. We should do what we feel most comfortable with to feel good about ourselves, whether it’s sweats and a t-shirt or dressed to the nines. But much like shaming someone for their weight, we shouldn’t shame someone for wanting to look nice either.

Every woman is different. Their comfort level is different. Their style of dress and how they wear their hair is different. Let’s embrace these differences and enjoy them without bullying each other. Honesty and shaming are different. Telling a friend, “I wouldn’t personally wear that eye shadow” or “You’re overweight” is totally different from shaming someone into making a good food choice or for wearing lip gloss. Do what works for you and let them do what works for them.

Where We Land

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Quotable Quotes and Potpourri, Relationships, Vampire Diaries

Let me tell you about my friend the Texan.

I met her online on a Mommy message board and from the moment we started talking, I knew she was one of the most amazing people in the world. When I mentioned that my middle child was colicky and didn’t want to be put down, I was surprised with a Peanut Shell sling in the mail, for no other reason than I had a need and she wanted to fill it. I was blown away by her generosity. She showed me through this and our many conversations that she was the living embodiment of the true Christian; someone who loved her neighbour as herself and wanted to be a shining example of God’s love.

When my eldest daughter began her struggles, the Texan was the only person I spoke to. It was nothing against my other friends, but it’s hard to explain these issues when you’ve never lived through them. I’ve been a mom for almost 12 years and I still would never have been able to relate to a parent in this situation until I’ve been here myself. However, the Texan offered me constructive advice and is quick to check in with me on counselling days, which are particularly draining for my child and I. While I enjoy these days, as it helps me come up with an action plan to better meet my children’s needs, it’s still difficult to hear her sob for someone and something that she sees as so easy and she doesn’t understand why I won’t just reach out and make it happen. She likens what she wants to her favourite book romance (Stefan and Elena from the Vampire Diaries; I won’t let her watch the show. Too many hearts being ripped out), and that no matter how long the separations, the love doesn’t die and if I would just make a phone call, that person will show up @ the door & it can be worked out and she’ll get her real family. Of course, real life doesn’t work that way & her dream scenario of him coming back to be with us out of the blue is more of a fairy tale. Of course, that doesn’t stop her from believing every knock @ the door, every time the phone rings, this time it’s him. This time, he’ll be standing there saying he’ll be with us. But the Texan is the one who helps me understand that the guilt I feel is normal, that it’ll be okay and that my efforts to make things better (the counselling, the yoga, the journalling, extracurricular activities, etc.) are all effective strategies to improve things, help with the resentment she feels that I won’t make that phone call that she’s begged me to make for months, because I’m afraid & why don’t grown ups act brave for once, admit they’re wrong, that they love each other & be a family. That way she and her sisters don’t need to be sad anymore. The Texan doesn’t question my choice to fall on my sword as it were, letting her think it’s my refusal to reach out that keeps her from having the person she feels is the best person ever so she won’t feel rejected, because he promised her when he brought her a birthday gift that he’d never leave her ever again. The Texan understands it’s to protect my child…& preserve the memory of the person who was once the most important adult in the world to me (& my natural instinct to shoulder the blame for everything & believing that the people I care about are good. Protect and defend the ones I love, even @ the expense of myself. That’s the MH way). The Texan often mentions continued prayer to help me get through the rough parts by reminding me that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, and I’m so grateful for her guidance. She’s like the coolest older sister figure ever. She’s the one who suggested I blog about these struggles, so I wouldn’t feel so alone; that other parents feel this way sometimes too.

While sitting in church on Sunday, the Reverend mentioned a verse that hit home for me and really helped me gain perspective on a lot of things.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

Whether you believe in a higher power or you don’t, one must remember that the world will not give us more than we can handle. While this may not always have been true, one thing I’ve tried to remind myself is that clearly God has a lot of faith in me as a person. After all, if God won’t give us more than we can handle, then clearly he trusts me to thrive in situations that most people would look at and want no part of. This is the lesson that my amazing friend reminds me of when I lose my way. So, I look at some of the things that I struggle with, from parenting to employment to friendships and some days, even my own sanity as opportunities to grow, to be challenged. Instead of begging God for help, I’m going to thank him for trusting me to tackle these things and rise to the occasion. So, thank you my friend, for being a wise older sister, fortune teller and all around amazing person during times of triumph and tribulations. Thanks for reminding me to welcome these things and be thankful for struggles, for they shape us and make us strong, make us hopeful. We should welcome the darkness because when it’s over, we’ll be more grateful for the gifts we are given. After all, darkness helps us build character. These trying times have helped me discover who I am standing on my own feet, not with anyone to “protect” me and I’m holding up okay. These times have helped shape my parenting style, helping me learn to keep a cool head, which has helped me during challenging times such as exams. There was no panic, simply rising to the occasion and my grades reflected my efforts. Darkness will help me appreciate things as they come, and I will see them as gifts and cherish them, and not wait for the shoe to drop. So, I’m thankful and grateful that the universe trusts me to hold up the world like Atlas, for it will make me a better person in the end.

I may not be the perfect mother or the perfect friend. I may not be a superhuman machine. But I am a mom, a friend, a journalist and a law clerk and a good person and that’s all I need to be, and I have an amazing role model to show me how to embrace those things.

You’re amazing Texan, and I love you.

poohfun

Underdog

by maryhelenc, posted in ASH General, Dorkdom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

All mornings start out awesome with early morning phone calls from the Gleason Table.

My longtime friend and fellow blogger (it’s fantastic, check it out here) always have the best conversations about a wide variety of topics. They’re pretty much the most hilarious part of my day. Today’s topic of conversation: Facebook.

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I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. I waste a lot of time on Facebook. I post a zillion photos of my daughters, etc. on Facebook. But I’ve noticed that we place too much emphasis on Facebook in our day to day lives. We use Facebook to send out feelers of former friendships as opposed to calling, we use Facebook to creep our exes because we can’t admit we still have romantic feelings for them, which holds back the healing process. We block people so that they feel rejected and, as Gleason said this morning, the more miserable you are about your life, the happier you will appear on Facebook. I know I’ve done it, during my darkest times emotionally, I’ll be as happy as a clam on Facebook. After all, if we appear happy happy on Facebook, we think we’re fooling people…and I guess to an extent, we are.

facebook

There are more than a few articles that claim that people see other people’s picture perfect Facebook lives and will feel depressed. Apparently, we start comparing our lives to the people on Facebook and feel inadequate. Knowing that we all embellish our lives on Facebook, why wouldn’t we assume that someone else is doing the same? Why do we put so much stock in Facebook? Why do we assume that everything on Facebook means something?

It's going great Facebook, thanks for asking.
It’s going great Facebook, thanks for asking.

Facebook was designed to keep us in touch with each other, but we use it as a legal form of stalking and an essential pissing contest to see who can pretend to have the best life while keeping tabs on people we claim we don’t care about and trying to pretend to all of our coworkers, etc. that our lives are super awesome when in reality, they are average, just like yours and mine. So, let’s stop comparing our lives to each other on Facebook and using it to act like we’re soooooo happy. Let’s stop creeping the people we left behind, whether it’s a friend we comment on every few months or that ex we can’t get out of our head and actually call or text them and begin working on those relationships.

Oh…and stop sharing memes that say if you share it, the dying kid will get a $1 for hospital bills. That’s just stupid too.

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PS Because I’m a dork…follow us on Facebook!

Near Life Experience

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Fitnesslicious, My New Life As Me

I don’t want to be one of those people who acts like some kind of expert on mental illness because I went to a doctor. Those people make me want to punch things…like them.

But, I’ve seen what’s working for me & slowly understanding some of how I ended up so miserable. Two of the things that triggered how I felt we’re my piss poor diet (of nothing) & my lack of exercise. I went from working out 6x/week to yoga @ home 6x/week to…nothing. Sure, I walked everywhere, but I also started eating the snack foods that I had cut out. I wouldn’t eat all day, drank way too much caffeine & barely slept. All of these things can trigger depression like symptoms. Your blood sugar fluctuating causes mood swings & sleep deprivation increases anxiety. I never realized how something as simple as 3 healthy meals & 2 light snacks can make a huge change in one’s attitude. I’m doing yoga again & couch to 5k. It’s already done wonders. I’ve even cut out a big chunk of my caffeine intake.

I always think about what everyone else needs, that I never think about me, what I need, that my feelings are valid too. I make dinner & pick so I know there’s enough if the girls want seconds. I buy them enough clothes to outfit Kenya, but I rarely buy myself anything. I’m not one to get angry about cancelled plans or things like that, but I also never assert myself. By resuming my workout regime, I’m finally doing something for me that makes me happy & only me. I think it’s time I start focusing on myself & what will make me happy & healthy, starting with the body.

I’m still no expert on depression or anything like that. I’m barely qualified to give advice to a goldfish. But I know I’m emerging as MHC again. I’ll look good & feel good while setting a better an example for my girls.

Your Heart is a Muscle

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Just Fun, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Television

So…apparently I was the only person who watched that train wreck “Ready for Love” as it’s already been cancelled.

Naturally, my mind went to “Oh. Em. Gee. Now how will I know if the annoying matchmakers help the meterosexual douchebags find the person they love for 20 minutes soulmate?!”

Okay, it was more like “If all it took for dating show to be cancelled was for me to watch it, then I’m coming for the Bachelor!”

I have a point, I promise.

I guess people are sick of the phoniness that these shows exhibit. There’s nothing authentic about them, except for maybe the two girls who flew across country to win back the loves of their lives, which was pretty ballsy. Those interactions were genuine, with real conflict and real emotions and the question of whether the decision to leave was the right or wrong thing, and it would have been interesting to see how the one panned out.

It reminded me of something my dad said to me about how people sometimes prefer to be right over being happy. We would rather live in a mess we created than ever admit that it wasn’t the right thing. Sometimes, there is no “right” but more a gray area and wrong. Maybe you’re not sure what the right thing is, but you know your actions are “wrong.” It doesn’t feel right and you’ve messed up but you also can’t swallow that pride or leverage that you have to just admit it to anyone, let alone yourself. Sometimes people say that if it didn’t work the first time, or the second, then why will it work the third? Sometimes people don’t try; they merely escape. Maybe you saw a long term future and it scared you because your last attempt at one of those failed. Maybe you weren’t ready for something, but now that you are, you realize you effed up and you apply to appear on a trainwreck with a bunch of crazy blonde chicks. That’s when you see the failed relationships, the ex creeping (which I’ve already mentioned being creepy HERE) and the general dissatisfaction with your life. But the desire to be “right” and not risk giving your love the power of holding your actions over you outweighs it all and you end up going round in circles…or on a reality show with Bill and Giuliana Rancic.

My foster father always reminded me that being right will never make you happy; being happy does. So, I’m the first one to back down (unless of course I am absolutely certain that I am right, or it is the right thing, or the only solution. Then I’m a freaking pitbull and won’t back down and won’t give up and will endure ridiculous amounts of hurt because I think it’s worth it) because truthfully, the relationship with the friend, partner, etc. brings happiness, which means more than being right. Sometimes, you need to admit you’re dumb, immature, you screwed up, eat that crow because it’s not about being “right” because it’s what’s deterring you from being truly happy. My foster dad always told me that sometimes in life it’s not about winning a battle, it’s about knowing when you need to surrender, something that I remind myself when I pick my battles with my daughters (there isa reason that my 6yo doesn’t own a matching pair of socks), admitting I was wrong in a friendship, or taking a zero on an assignment because I didn’t get it finished. Sometimes, it’s not about who was right, it’s about how everyone was wrong and how to make it right.

So, I guess the burning question now is what I’ll watch after I watch my pretend husband Adam Levine on the Voice. Perhaps there is some kind of Adam Levine network? I should call my provider and find out.

You Know Where I’m At

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Dear Blank, Douchers, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Television

Last night, I couldn’t find my remote, so I couldn’t change the channel after watching my pretend husband Adam Levine on The Voice.

Yes, this shirtless photo of Adam Levine is essential to this blog post...you're welcome
Yes, this shirtless photo of Adam Levine is essential to this blog post…you’re welcome

I was studying for a final so I figured I’d leave whatever the eff was on as background noise. It turned out that it was this dating show called Ready For Love. We all know my feelings on dating shows (if not, click HERE & HERE), yet this was like some kind of weird train wreck. I wanted to get up & change the channel, but I didn’t want to look for my remote because I was morbidly fascinated by this bizarre…thing.

Anywho, the plot is these three guys let matchmakers pick out a bunch of chicks for them & the matchmakers sort of guide dude to find the one…or something (I did learn that the Plain White T’s are still a thing, so there’s that). But one of the girls who was sent packing said that “nice girls finish last.”

Do they?

I’m a nice girl. Sickeningly so. I’m all kinds of Jesus loving, gift buying, naive as all get out, good girl. I give to people until there is nothing left & when I love someone, I’m stupidly devoted to them. I don’t do casual sex. I need to know you love me before you get that (I broke that rule one time, for someone I loved beyond reason) & if you’re in my bed, it means I truly believe you are my match. In fact, I struggle to date again if I’ve given you that, because I feel like I gave you the best I had in me to give & it wasn’t good enough. I would rather waste my life waiting for a person I feel is worth waiting for than date a million people (my online dating profile exists, but it serves for me to reject many boys & only to shut the psych major up hahaha) But do I finish last? I don’t think so. I have a pretty fulfilled life; awesome kids, good friends, an outlet for my talent. Not too shabby. I don’t need a relationship to complete me. I don’t get lonely for a partner. If I do, it’s for a specific person, not just a faceless partner, someone who has qualities I admire, who I feel can be a role model for my daughters, someone I care about.

I think people sort of use that as a crutch to explain why guys are douchebags. Some are, but other men & women just cannot handle having what they’ve wanted; someone who loves them completely. You build the image up in your mind of your ideal mate & most of the time, the image doesn’t fit reality. 90% of the time, the person who is right for us isn’t the person we expected. Some people can roll with that, others can’t. They begin to let doubts creep in because they’re not used to someone essentially looking at them like they’re amazing & they worry about things like “what if I’m not so God-like (chances are, they know)” or “why don’t I see him/her like that? (Chances are you give love differently, it doesn’t mean you love them less, you just love them in your own way)” Soon enough, you feel smothered and guilty because you simply can’t understand that level of acceptance, because you’ve never had it yourself (something I struggle with). Maybe the two of you aren’t on the same page (one is further ahead and you need to slow down) and you don’t know how to say you’re not ready to jump in yet, or vice versa. Maybe they aren’t the mate you envisioned on paper; they’re flighty, or even a little nuts & you question your choice (or you worry about others questioning it). The idea of love is wonderful, the act of maintaining love is terrifying. That’s why so many of us rush into one relationship after another; we’ve been trained to believe that the other person just sucked & it’s because we’re nice & we finish last.

The truth is, that we love the idea of love, not being in love, which is why we always muck up the best relationships & then rush into the next one instead of evaluating what we really want. Perhaps we should have worked harder, or talked to our partner as things happened, so we can apply that to our next relationship. Perhaps we still miss the one we let get away so we try to replace them & end up with a string of failed relationships trying to fill the hole (which my own therapist claims those who feel a hole either a) have terribly low self esteem and need to be in a relationship to feel validated or b) are missing the presence of a former lover that they feel “got away”), while still creeping their online profile because deep down, that’s what we want but we’re too damn stubborn to admit it (something one of the girls did on the train wreck last night. She realized she let someone great go & went to fight for him. The other train wreck chicks were pissed, but I thought it was pretty ballsy to admit you weren’t ready @ the time, but you’re sorry & you are now & you want to try again. He kept her, so maybe he is big into giving someone a million chances).

They say if you care enough to wonder what they're thinking, then maybe you should care enough to be with them. Of course, most proverbs were written by monks soooo...
They say if you care enough to wonder what they’re thinking, then maybe you should care enough to be with them. Of course, most proverbs were written by monks soooo…

It’s not because nice people finish last. It’s because we’ve been taught that people are replaceable & that makes us want everything & nothing; we want someone to complete us, but not get too close, someone to want to be our mate, but not overwhelm us, someone to understand us, even if we don’t tell them what’s wrong. It has to be our time, our way & we are the star of the relationship & it’s not about being a team. It’s not a matter of nice or douchey, because these are things that plague all of us. We need to start working together to meet in the middle. Sometimes we need to start over, sometimes we need to understand that the thing that seemed wrong on paper is the right thing for us, or that not everyone loves the same way & that’s okay, sometimes we need to go backwards before we go forward & sometimes we need to open up before we close the door.

So, nice people don’t finish last. They just struggle to navigate like the rest of the world. We’ll all figure it out…but most likely NOT on a dating show.