Confident

Every once in awhile, I read a news story online & it really grinds my gears. 

  
Over the weekend, Ayesha Curry, wife of NBA star Stephen Curry (and more importantly, mom of viral video sensation Riley Curry) took to Twitter to lament about women’s fashion, saying she preferred to “keep it classy” & women should “keep the good stuff covered up.”

  
Naturally, the Internet exploded, with women attacking Mrs. Curry for her opinion, prompting model Chrissy Teigan & Khloe Kardashian to rush to her defense. While I don’t think verbally assaulting Mrs. Curry was the best way to go, it once again introduces the conversation about why women (& men!) think it is perfectly acceptable to tell women what to wear. 

I’m going to be super up front; I wear whatever the eff I want. Unless I am at work, I have tops that show cleavage & after I lose that last 30lbs I’m needing to drop, I am going to wear short shorts. I’ve read all the articles that women over 30 shouldn’t wear such things but too bad, random blogger, I’m going to wear whatever I want. I earn my money, I buy my clothes, I’ll wear what I want. As the mom of three daughters, I teach them about time & place. Cut off shorts are not for school. Tank tops with spaghetti straps are not for work. The list goes on. I pick my battles with my teen daughter so she knows while it’s important to express ourselves with our clothes, we also need to be mindful of age appropriate (she’s 14) & school/work appropriate. But it drives me nuts that women are taught that we choose our clothes to impress men or appease women. I don’t choose my clothing to impress my boyfriend. He best be impressed by my mind, my tenacity, who I am. How I look should be a bonus. 

  
 But Mrs. Curry furthered the belief that women have the right to tell other women what to wear like it’s any of their business. You know who you are, the ones who yell at the girl in the mini skirt to put her vagina away, or post the memes about keeping your bits & pieces covered. Why does it matter to you? If that’s not your personal style, don’t wear it. Maybe they like feeling sexy without relying on a man to tell them. Why is it that women are told to dress to impress men, but not offend women. No one would tell a man walking down the street to keep his tits covered. No, when he strips down, it’s hot! Much like when Miley Cyrus was vilified for posing topless, but Nick Jonas praised for posing hugging his junk, women need to stop trying to control other women’s bodies and ordering them to fall in line with their level of morality. 

One’s clothing does not measure their level of class. I have friends who dress in a way that flaunts their figure that carry themselves with more dignity than those who tell them to cover up. Class is how you treat others, how you carry yourself. Instead of worrying about how that woman in the miniskirt is dressed, maybe think about what you’re putting out there. Have you helped others? Have you been kind? Have you been judgmental or rude? Do you use profanity (something I’m VERY guilty of)? Are you carrying yourself in a way that you want your children to emulate? Because none of those values are determined by a hemline. 

I wonder how Mrs. Curry would feel if people told her how to dress her young daughters, or if she was upset when strangers weighed in on her parenting when she taught Riley how to do the “whip, nae nae” dance earlier this year. She was probably very upset and thought people should think before they speak. Maybe she can do the same next time she feels the need to degrade her fellow women & focus on building each other up, not tearing down by equating clothing with character. 

  

While We’re Young

Have you ever just looked at your life & thought “yup, this is kind of rad?” 

That’s me right now. 

I’m working on the coolest assignment for one of the magazines I work for. I’m really good at my new job & I love my coworkers (and I won’t lie, one of the managers is like, ridiculously hot), the girls are doing well in school, and I have never been more content in a relationship. I don’t even stare at my surroundings and wish I was at home anymore. This feels like home now. Of course, I’ll also be home with my best friends in just a few days. I may only have $150 to spend while I’m there, but I’ll be home God Dammit. It’s going to be nice.  

I’ll be seeing these peeps!
 

But I’m feeling very settled into my life. I don’t know if settled is the right word, but it’s the only one I can think of. But my life feels very much the way it should be I guess. Things that used to freak me out don’t bother me anymore. I just feel like the pieces are falling into place & life is really kind of rad. 

I guess it’s nice because for years I’ve tried to piece my life together & it never seemed to work. My professional life would be good, but my personal life was a mess. Or my personal life would be good but I wouldn’t have a job. Or there would be chaos in my life. Things weren’t just chill & calm & dare I say easy. Things right now have challenges, like my commute can be long & a pain in the ass, but they’re all things that have an easy fix. My bills are paid, my family is healthy & I’m in a healthy relationship with someone that loves me as much as I love them & I feel very much in control of my future.   

I guess I feel very fortunate right now, because even though things are busy & sometimes stressful, my life is actually so lovely. My girls are thriving here. They’re doing well at school & have made positive friends & they no longer feel dejected when their dad doesn’t bother to call or text. I guess my best friend Melissa was right; the abandonment is easier to swallow when he’s two time zones away, not in the next city where he could easily pick them up & he just doesn’t. They don’t even ask about him coming for Xmas anymore. They’re focused on their own lives & not that he’s chosen not to be part of it. I’m really enjoying my writing here. My audience really likes what I’m doing. Now that I’m focusing on friendships here, I feel like I have some connections. I know restaurants now. This seems stupid, but I love being able to tell my boyfriend “this place has great wings, remember? Let’s go there.” And my boyfriend shows me how much he loves me in a million small ways. He works so many long hours, devotes his free time to his daughter, but still finds time to spend with me to make me happy. Even when I know he’s exhausted, he still plans date nights for us, or picks me up from work to give us 20 minutes together. He’s so kind and thoughtful, he spoils me, is attentive to my feelings, and for the first time in the four years that I have loved him, I feel like we are equals. He’s not afraid to be blunt with me. And I don’t feel like he’s going to leave me any second. I feel loved & every time he does something that seems so small to the outside world to make me smile, I fall even more in love with him. And for the first time, normal relationship things, like him spending the night with me doesn’t scare me. It just feels like that’s how it should be. 

I don’t feel like an island anymore. I have good friends who are a lot of fun. I am starting to finally enjoy my new gym. I feel like I belong here in Cow Province & this is home. 

 

My #YEG friends are totally rad.
 
So, for once in my life, I’m not going to be afraid of the future, what could go wrong, panic & fear, because my life is just so good. Every single thing about it is good. And I’m going to just enjoy how awesome my life is & look forward to the next chapters…& seeing my friends in a week. 

 

General Admission

I had an epiphany. 

I SUCK AT TIME MANAGEMENT. 

The root of all my anxiety is simply a lack of time management, or mom guilt. 

I was talking to my best friend Melissa after having a complete meltdown about I’m not even sure. Like, nothing in my life is wrong. I have a pretty rad life, but here I am bawling that my life is stupid & falling apart. But it’s not. My life is good. And I displace my anxiety into irrational fears that have no basis in reality, because those are fears I know, things I’ve experienced & I panic. But as I got talking to Melissa, I realized that what’s bothering me makes a lot more sense;

I feel like I have no time. 

My days are long, so I try to balance my time for my kids & myself. But I feel guilty, if I go to the gym because that’s my time for the girls. But then I get stressed because I’m not taking time for me. When I first got here, I found time for me. I spent time with nature. I went to Crossfit. I went running. I found time for myself. But as school started and then I switched jobs…AGAIN (which I think upsets me for fear of lack of follow through, which I then displace into fears about my personal life, even though I’m actually afraid I’m hurting my long term earning potential by jumping ship so much), I found that I’m constantly juggling time with the girls & time for myself & I am finding less & less time for myself in the pursuit of money, something that doesn’t really motivate me, but I find myself worrying about more and more as winter is coming. 

  
I felt like this once before, back when I was working two jobs & struggling to find time to do anything & during that time, I was doing just what I’ve been doing now; panicking about things that aren’t real; analyzing everything, stressing about the move. Again, because of money. Every time my life focuses on money, I feel like I have to sacrifice pieces of my life to find time for other pieces of my life & in the end, I end up stressing about money, which is my least favourite thing in the world. But because my life has a strong foundation for the first time in forever, I start panicking and wanting to shake the walls to make sure they don’t fall down. Erica called me on it tonight, telling me that I’m almost trying to drive away the people I want in my life (including her) because it’s what I do when I’m stressed out, push people away. But in reality, it’s simply that I feel like I’m juggling my life and dropping balls. I missed my deadline for my magazine because I was working so much & it sent me right over the edge. I came here to write. Why was the thing I hate most (my real people job) getting in the way of my journalism career, time with my family, Crossfit? My trip home might be delayed because of work. The job that makes me money to live seemed to be destroying all of the things about my life that I love most, but I have to tough it out because my resume will suck. I literally couldn’t deal or explain it to anyone. It just came out that I feared change or fear of abandonment. I just couldn’t adequately explain that I felt like my professional life is taking me further from everything most important to me. 

literally me

I’m constantly pushing aside the things that make me happy to try and make more money, which is the antithesis of my personality. My life is about being optimistic & happy & building my best self. The past two weeks I’ve been my worst self (and to those who have listened to my incessant whining & crying, I love you so very much. Thank you for being in my life & loving me) because I feel like I’m sacrificing the best parts of me to support the most important people in my life. But I won’t be a good mom if I’m damaging my psyche to support them. I know that the more I sacrifice my emotional needs, the more I’m damaging my abilities to be a good mom & person. 

This week, I started shifting my focus back to the bright eyed optimist I was when I got here, and was just excited to spend time with my family & my loves. I did this by shutting out everyone. It was very deliberate & not because of hurt feelings or anger. It was a way for me to recharge my batteries so I could be the best MHC I could. I got a massage. I went for a walk near the river valley. I mostly avoided social media (except Snapchat because my kid is using it again so I use it to pretend I’m not just watching her snaps) & all calls & texts. I just needed a break from life so I took it. I’m making it a point that I’ll be in the gym a minimum twice a week. Every night I’ll spend 20 minutes doing yoga & focusing on positivity. And my day off while the kids are in school will be spent enjoying nature & coffee & Crossfit & writing & all MHC things. Why? Because I need to focus on my independence and ability to keep in control of my own life & set a good example for my girls. I’ll focus on my writing, as my blog is generally for me, to keep me sane. I’m glad people read it & love it, but it’s my outlet to help me understand my emotions, nothing more. 

I’ve changed literally every aspect of my life in the last 10 months, sometimes several times. I’ve switched jobs five times. I’ve switched provinces. I went from very high walls to shut people out to tearing them down & sharing my life with someone. I always managed to keep some sort of constant during these changes; like I kept my job when I moved here, just a different store. But now everything is all new. Learning to navigate through these changes can have its ups and downs, especially when you’re someone who struggles with change. I need to slow down & just remain in this stage of my life for awhile, with no need to move from here.  But, if I allow myself to make myself a priority, then I’ll be able to focus on what I do best; being awesome. So, I’m making myself a priority, somewhere after the kids, journalism & the cat because she’s a needy bitch. 

  

Distance

I envy you chill people who never worry about anything. 

As someone who has long suffered from anxiety, I envy how you can just adapt to new situations. I wish I was that person more than you know, because I can’t. 

If I switch jobs, I panic because I’m back on probation & could end up unemployed & then what happens to my girls?

If I move, I worry about how I’ve ruined my life. 

When I’m in a relationship, I worry that if I’m anything less than the perfect, understanding girlfriend, he will leave. 

If I’m ever the unpleasant, bitchy friend that doesn’t want to hang out or isn’t completely understanding, I will have no support system. 

Welcome to my mind. 

Generally my mind is a happy world of unicorns & rainbows & everyone is happy. Kind of like the world of UniKitty in the Lego Movie. I revel in positivity.  I pride myself on my optimism. I just want to be happy & for everyone around me to be happy. 

my spirit animal

But then there is the other side that I control with fitness, nutrition & sleep (all of which I haven’t been keeping up with) that becomes terrified that everything will go wrong. The side that overthinks, over analyzes, reads too much into things & seemingly sabotages her own life. 

I remember on Saturday apologizing to my boyfriend for feeling overwhelmed & struggling to explain why all change freaks me out, and not being able to. I apologized for wanting time alone with him & even last night I was talking about why I shouldn’t ask for much from anyone because I can go through periods of anxiety & they can be taxing. Yes, they can. And I love my good friends & family so much because they’re there when I need them. And it works in reverse. I love that my boyfriend understands why I get this way & loves me enough to see that the person I am, that loves him so much & tries to be good to him means more than the fact that I struggle with trust. But I shouldn’t have to devalue myself or apologize for feeling a certain way. But I do. And I need to stop. 

I am not perfect. I am never going to be. But I’m pretty rad. I would like to think I’m a decent parent. I would like to think I’m a good friend. I think I’m a good partner & treat my boyfriend the way he deserves. I absolutely deserve to be happy. And yes, nothing about my life was what it was four months ago. And yes, that scares me. Sometimes it scares me a lot. But I would like to think all of the good that I offer far outweighs the times that I’m anxious & scared. And I’m tired of apologizing. 

Women are conditioned to apologize for EVERYTHING.  We apologize for wanting random flowers or to be told we’re loved (I pride myself on being the anti-girl, but sometimes I want those things). I actually apologized for being alive this week. We’re taught it’s to defer power, but I don’t want to defer mine anymore. I’m a little nuts. That’s okay. But I’m not sorry. It happens & the more I try to pretend it doesn’t, the more it happens & the more I write about trying to fix it, the less it gets fixed. So, I’m going to accept it while continuing to do the things I know that help; fitness, nutrition & proper sleep. Oh, and the power of positivity.  I’m not going to worry about what if, I’ll focus on what is. And that is what I tell myself when I feel this way, that I have three rad kids, awesome friends, an amazing boyfriend, a job, a roof & a skill I’m passionate about. And I’m not going to hide from anxiety anymore. I’m going to be friends with it. I’m going to hang out with it, let it have its voice, but also explain that the other emotions need to be in control, like Joy. But most importantly, I’m not going to apologize anymore. I’m MHC & I’m too damn nice. I talk too much & I care way too much about current events & pop culture & sometimes I worry about nothing. But I refuse to keep trying to stifle the thing that sucks to try & be perfect, because then I’m not giving the people I love a chance to love me for me. 

So, here’s your chance kids. 

  

Stay With You

As I’m starting to settle into my life here, I’m realizing that I need to scale back on my social media.

Last night, my daughter asked if our cat could have an Instagram, and my older daughter is now the cat’s social media manager. This kind of made me realize how dependent we have become on social media. Maybe we are way too invested in it, keep people on our Facebook accounts that we don’t like for no apparent reason or we post our whole lives, etc. 

 

feel free to follow my asshole cat @peachy.the.cat
 
I’m super guilty of this, especially since the move. I’m on social media & blogging far more than I used to, mostly to stay connected. But perhaps I’m also inviting negativity into my home, which is causing me unnecessary anxiety. I am blessed with amazing friends. I am also friends with those who love to be right, at the expense of my happiness under the guise of helping. And by inviting people into my personal life as much as I do, perhaps I’m allowing them access to make me feel less than happy with my life. 

I refuse to walk on eggshells. I want my life to be positive and joyful & happy. So, I’ve started distancing myself from people who do not make me happy, including family members. If you do not contribute to my life, my home in a positive way, then you are welcome to leave. I know who contributes positively to my life; Erica, my best friends Melissa, Doug, Sarah, Gleason, Bree & Damanda. My brother. My boyfriend. All of these people enrich my life & make it better. Crossfit enhances my life. But, my heavy social media presence is allowing others to analyze my life. Same with my blog. I write because, to be honest, I don’t have much else to do. But perhaps I need to be more mindful about what I put out there. I write about my failings because I’m human. I feel like being honest about my humanness will help people see me the way I want to be seen; as a resilient, beautiful, kind hearted person who is not perfect. And they can love me in my imperfections, because people on pedestals fall down. I just want to be a regular person who tries her best & makes mistakes & is deeply loved by those she loves. And those I don’t know personally can take some refuge in the fact that others are not perfect either. But, I also don’t want to be analyzed like a specimen or my blog used as a substitute to engage with me. Maybe I invite that by writing about my life so candidly. So, perhaps I need to scale back my social media involvement & keep more of my life offline. 

Maybe this is a sign that I’m finally starting to embrace this as home. I don’t need my lifelines at home to make me feel connected to human beings. I have a great life here, I was just too afraid to see it, because I was afraid to lose it. I love my work. The stuff I’m writing is so cool. And I’m building contacts, which will help me later.  I’ve gotten rave reviews for some of my articles & even my editor is impressed by my growth as a writer. My kids love it here so much. They love their school & their friends. I’m making friends. My new job is both exciting and terrifying. And for the first time ever, I’m really happy in a relationship & I’m not analyzing every move wondering if it’s gonna fall apart. I trust him completely & it’s such a good feeling to know you’re with someone & they make you happy & even months later you’re happy & you’re content with where you are. I have never had this & it scared me, but now I’m just so happy. And maybe, because I’m settling into my life, I don’t really need to advertise on social media that I’m doing well. Maybe I just want to do well. 

 

Maybe I need to focus more on this instead of social media
 
However, social media is an addicting thing, so I’ll probably still post on my FB, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr & Snapchat (all of which you can find &  follow by clicking here), but less frequently. I want to catch up with friends, but we can text. And if we can’t text, maybe we aren’t that super close. Either way, I will not damage my happy life with doubts or negativity. I’ve worked too hard to make my life epic. Even if you don’t agree, just be happy with me, because that’s what I want for everyone I know. 

 

Playlists & Apologies

I never thought I’d see the day when I would defend Kim Kardashian West, but here we are. 

Yesterday, Kim Kardashian West posted on her personal website a statement that is taboo, unheard of, and something no mom should ever say;

She hates being pregnant. 

Mainstream media outlets picked up on it & suddenly, every mom from here to Palookaville was calling Kardashian West every name in the book. 

Some of the amazing comments included;

“Oh she is such a self centered twit. She complained about not being able to conceive now she is saying being pregnant is the worst experience of her life? Do us a favor and just shut up.”

“and honey….pregnancy doesn’t look good on you either….win, win! shut your pie-hole and just give birth already! I can’t believe you have 2 1/2 more months to go, you look like beached whale, boom!”

“Can you imagine the amount of women out there not being able to get pregnant and having to read something so outrageous!?!?!? Do you know how many people would LOVE to be able to get pregnant? Become a mom? Apparently, this means no biggie for Mrs. Kardashian-West. Hope and pray your children don’t feel any remorse toward you for making such horrific statement!”

These were just some of the amazing comments that people made because a pregnant woman said she hated being pregnant. How dare she?! She had fertility struggles! She should be grateful!

Wait. Nowhere did she say she wasn’t grateful for her daughter North or her unborn son. In fact, she said they were worth all of it, but being pregnant just sucks. Kardashian West has made no secret of her struggles. During her first pregnancy she suffered from preeclampsia. She had several surgeries to correct issues with her uterus before she could conceive her son. Her pregnancy weight gain is mocked by literally every human being on the planet. I can see why she hates it. 

  
Here’s a secret about me; I too hated being pregnant. Every second of it. From the time I peed on the stick until the first cry, I hated being pregnant. I had two high risk pregnancies & one uneventful one. I had Hypermesis Gravidium with all three. Sciatica. I gained tons of weight. My one uneventful pregnancy went 11 days overdue. My hair fell out. I looked like death all of the time. Being pregnant sucked. 

  
Miscarriage, infertility & infant loss are all terrible things, but women need to stop denying women their right to their honest feelings about their personal journey because theirs is different. I lost my father at a very young age. Imagine if I told my friends growing up that they were so ungrateful because they were angry at their fathers because mine was dead? Same idea. Women are competing with each other about everything. Who’s pregnancy was more magical, who lasted longer in childbirth without drugs. Who makes the most adorable organic snacks in Pinterest. Who loves their kids the most. Please do shut up. 

Kim Kardashian West hates being pregnant. I hated it too. I hated it so much that even the thought of having another kid makes me kind of dry heave because I couldn’t imagine putting my body through the emotional highs & lows, the weight gain, the pain, the time off work, the fear of going back on bed rest, etc. My best friend struggled with infertility & also hated being pregnant. That doesn’t make her ungrateful, it makes her honest. Perhaps Kim Kardashian West’s candid confession will allow some woman, who is reading her mommy board & how everyone feels so feminine & sexy & empowered while she feels like a fat slug who pukes a lot & can say “omg me too.” And suddenly she won’t feel like a bad mom, because it’s okay to not like the process. 

  
I would much rather read Ms. Kardashian West’s blunt honesty than the normal celebrity garbage that is designed to shame moms, like the time Gisele Bundchen said labour didn’t hurt & women who don’t breastfeed don’t love their babies & need to go to jail. Being a mom & carrying a child is hard enough. Stop shaming women for their honest feelings about pregnancy & childbirth. More moms need to build each other up, not make it a pissing contest over who felt more like an Earth fairy & held off the epidural longest. Drug free birth or lack of morning sickness doesn’t make you a better mother. Your commitment to your child does. Seeing as most of us have not met Kim Kardashian West or her daughter North, we don’t know what kind of parent she is. Don’t make judgements based on one comment. 

I’ve criticized the Kardashian crew in the past, but this was just wrong. Bashing a pregnant woman is wrong. If you can’t relate to her feelings, then be quiet. Her feelings are still hers, and still valid. 

  

Life Lessons Learned The Hard Way

After the week of suck, I’ve done something I haven’t done in a long time;

I broke down. 

There was an attempted robbery at work. My teenage daughter is so resentful of her dad’s lack of interest in her life that she has decided she never wants to talk to him again & won’t pick up if he calls anymore. My hip has been injured so I’ve been hurting. My youngest has been ill and I had  to ask my eldest to leave school early to watch her until I got home. By the end of my shift, I was just miserable. I ended up crying all night, feeling isolated and alone. I felt like I’m alone in the universe, with no real friends here. For years, I’ve handled everything on my own like some kind of warrior, and every one tells me how I’m so strong. I didn’t want to be strong anymore. I just wanted someone to shoulder a part of the load with me. 


I cried all night. I cried all morning. I just didn’t want to be homesick or alone anymore. I didn’t want to be the single mom who handles all the decisions. I didn’t want to go to work. I didn’t even want to be a parent for an hour, because I don’t get the luxury of being a parent when I want women to think I’m sensitive or because my parents ask where my kids are. I was literally broken. 

But I learned I wasn’t really alone. My best friend Melissa texted me until very late her time trying to help me feel better. My other best friend Erica, my Texan PIC called me from the road enroute to Dallas for surgery to check in. And my wonderful boyfriend sat on the phone with me for an hour, despite being sick as 100 dogs to remind me that he loves me, he is right here in the city and he will do his best to make this easier. My mommy message board told me how hard I was trying. My oldest friend Gleason offered encouragement & Damanda offered to book my flight home hahaha. 

  
Suddenly, I realized that while I am far away from most people, I’m not really “alone.” I have the best friends in the world who are still right by my side even though they are a zillion miles away. I have friends I’ve never physically met who are always there. I have a loving & gentle man who always knows how to deal with my bouts of lunacy in a way that makes me feel safe & loved. He protects me by reminding me that I can do anything, but on days when life beats me down, he’ll be there to help me back up. I am a very fortunate person. And that helped remind me that while it can be a hard road, I’m the only role model for these three girls. I’m their only parent, their lifeline. I’ve gotta get up & put on pants & kick the world’s ass until I’m the most amazing MHC I can be. So I did. 

I may be weathering the storm alone sometimes, but I’m certainly not alone in the trenches. My people are right there with me, whether it’s to calm my addled mind or to tell me I’m the effing sun, like we’re Dr. Meredith Grey & Dr. Cristina Yang, I’ll never really be alone as long as they are there. 

  
 

The Danger In Starting A Fire

Moving is stupid. Never do it.

Over the last few months, I’ve gone through a plethora of emotions ranging from euphoric to miserable. This past week has just been beyond stupid. I’ve considered closing my blog because I wasn’t comfortable writing about my feelings & I sometimes wonder if I’m using my writing because I’m rather lonely out here in Cow Province & I miss regular chats with friends back home. I had this grand vision that I would get out here & my editor would love my work, I’d land a full time gig & my new gym would be as awesome as my old gym & everything would be perfect.

Yeah, nope. 

Instead I’ve been miserable at my gym, hating my job & trying to overcome years of mistrust in a day. So, I’m homesick & sometimes contemplate just moving home in the spring (my friend Damanda is sending a U-Haul). But, I realize I’m not giving myself any time to adjust to anything. Like, at all. 

I’m such an ambitious little creature, that I assume it’ll be easy to adjust when most people say it takes a year to adjust to a new community. I get better at trusting people, but it’s a process & I can’t rush that process. I’ll warm up to the gym, it’ll take time. There are some cool people & some not cool people. But I’ll get used to it. It’ll never be as awesome as my old gym, but still good. My new job isn’t journalism, but again, new audience, it’s a process. 

I keep trying to rush to get to the part where this feels like home, but it’s gonna take time. The difference is I’m going to allow myself that time to get used to how things are done here. If you’ve ever switched provinces/states, you’ll understand. Some days it just feels weird. And I just want to fit in with the cow people (maybe I should stop calling them cow people). But I realize it’s not as easy for some people. And I’ve got to allow myself time to get used to my life here. It’s okay to feel homesick. It’s okay to feel lonely. It’s okay to miss my gym & my friends & DECENT DAMN PIZZA. WHY IS THERE NO GOOD PIZZA?! But I kept trying to think it was wrong to go through periods of sadness. My birthday was a great day, but I’ve been lonely ever since. It was the first year it wasn’t a clusterfuck, which was nice. But it was also the first year I didn’t have belated drinks with Melissa, or dinner with Rena & Damanda. And it was just kind of sad. And over the past few days, as things have been sucky, I realized how much I missed having nearby friends who could watch the older kids while I took the littlest to the Voodoo Witch Doctor, as she’s allergic to every medication ever made, or Bree hugs. Or the fact that people here call shopping carts baskets. NO. THEY ARE SHOPPING CARTS.  But I didn’t want to adjust to the culture shock. I wanted to be awesome. Now, I’m going to focus on making Cow Province my home…& maybe stop calling it Cow Province. 

***However, I have only seen geese once, so good job Cow Province****

  
Same with everything else, I need to give myself time to open up, time to build trust, time to get comfortable. And it’s okay to want to do that slowly. It’s okay to not want to rush. It’s okay to have moments of doubt or fear. All of these things are fine. People who love me understand why I’m a bit batty & love me anyway. They get it & will let me muddle through on my own until I get to a place where I can fully trust people the way I want to. But it takes time. 

  
The good thing about time is we have a lot of it. Every day is another day to make awesome. So, that’s what I will do. Make tomorrow awesome. And the next day. And the next. But the only way to make this place home is to work on it. So, I’m going to put up curtains, pictures & BUY A DAMN KITCHEN TABLE NEXT WEEK. I’m very excited about my table. And each day I wake up I’ll feel better & better about living here, until one day, it’s home. And everything else will come in time, so I won’t rush the process anymore. 

  

The Document Speaks for Itself

A lot of times, when I write about my life, I get weirded out. 

There are always valid reasons for my weirded out-ness, such as “I hate talking about myself in a way that makes me feel vulnerable.” There is the “people I know read this shit & will text me about it or they’ll think I’m totes crazy.” I also feel like I spend a ridiculous amount of time writing lately because I am fretfully lonely for my Windsor/Sarnia/London friends. I’ve made some rad friends here so far, but I find myself missing home, so I use my blog as sort of a security blanket. This brings about the concern that people would rather read about me than engage in conversation or stay connected to me, like I’m some sort of zoo animal. Yes, I analyze literally everything.

I have a point, I promise.

I’ve decided that since I’m just going to keep using my one outlet as my way of feeling less isolated from almost everything that I love, I may as well use it to be a better person. So, I’m being more open about all the things that make me less than perfect MHC. Why? Because I want to be a better person. I want to be some kind of hybrid of the person I am and the person I was before. Still bad ass, but nicer. I really feel like the whole purpose to being alive is to grow and evolve and be kinder and gentler to our fellow man, etc.

Anywho, I wrote a whole bunch of stuff about why I suck at trusting people. I guess that was the first step to me actually being able to do it. But again, I felt weird because people I know read this crap. People I love. People who mean a great deal to me. And my mother (waves to my mother). I don’t want the people I love most to read about my thoughts on my blog. I want them to talk to me (although my good friend Gleason thinks it might be good for people to read my weird thoughts, it’ll help them understand my mind better and therefore make those relationships stronger). I don’t want them to think that I don’t trust them or that they need to coddle me or make me feel secure, because I don’t want that.  I honestly just write stuff because I feel happy when I write stuff! When anything bothers me in the slightest, I write about it & feel better! It’s like an extension of who I am as a person or something. Also, people I do not care for in the slightest read my blog (waves to ex husband) & I don’t want them to make my attempts to grow & become a more confident person fuel their narcissism. I began to worry. People I know read this. People I care about read this. I do not want people I care about to get upset that I am writing about my life in great detail because I’m lonely and homesick and I write about stuff to fill the void. Instead, I got texts from my friends, who said they could relate. They feel the same way sometimes. They struggle with trusting people. They’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. They just didn’t know how to tell people without feeling crazy. Suddenly, I felt very sane. Which was nice. Thank you, fellow crazy people for helping me feel united in our crazy. 

  
But I guess the best feedback I got was from my friend Gleason. He basically told me how I’m always putting the needs of my daughters, my friends, my lover, my mother over my own and it’s perfectly okay to feel insecure or like all the things that went wrong before will again. But I’m very lucky to have the ability to be self aware enough to start to fix the things about my personality I want to improve upon without it destroying my life in the process. So, I should be proud of myself for having a talent that makes others think and want to improve. And I can appreciate how fortunate I am to have an amazing family, a loving boyfriend and great friends and find happiness on days where there are none. By being able to see all of the wonderful things I have helps me continue to be positive when things aren’t and he’s lucky to have me as a friend. All of these things are totally rad.

So, thanks fellow crazy people for reading my blog & telling me that I’m not crazy. Pretty sure I am, but I’m pretty sure that’s okay. Because even though I go through periods of loneliness or rejection (by newspapers), that’s all part of life & I can turn all of those things into positives to improve who I am. Yay! 

And if all else fails, I provide y’all with entertainment. 

Also here is this penguin. You literally cannot be sad while looking at a penguin

My Life For Hire

It’s time for me to admit something about who I am as a person in the hopes that admitting it will help me grow from it. I don’t like admitting that I have flaws, or that I’m anything less than the most bad ass person on the planet. But if one of my best friends can be open about his bipolar diagnosis & work to recover, then I can accept my flaws. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am a very damaged person & I have trust issues. 

I trust exactly four people in this world. Everyone else, I try, but I struggle. I refuse to blame my past relationship failures because then I’m giving them the power to continue to hurt me & I choose my destiny, not the things that went wrong.  It’s something I need to work on & I don’t actually know how. 

  
I build my life & I get to a point where I’m happy, really happy. The past few weeks have been awesome. I’m getting back into my gym groove. The kids love school. My eldest is taking her grades seriously & seeing results. I’ve accepted a new job that is a lot like my Target job. I’m excited because my bank account should be back where I was last year, where I don’t have to constantly tell the girls “I’m sorry, we can’t afford it.” My birthday was incredibly lovely & I’ve never been happier or more content in my relationship. 

But I’ll admit it’s hard when some of my best friends at home text once a week and ask if he’s left yet, because they’ve got their “I told you so” all ready. It chips away at the fragile trust I build in anyone & suddenly I question everything & my mind starts thinking;

Why did you hire me? Are you really going to promote me if I’m good, or are you going to wait six months & then the company will close. 

Why do you keep saying you love me & you’re here for good? We both know you’re lying. Please just go & get it over with, but please don’t actually go. 

Why are you my friend if you seem to delight in my potential misery? Why can’t you be happy for me?

I refuse to blame the marriage. I refuse to blame what happened before. This is me. But how do you tell someone that while you feel completely safe & at ease with them, they make you extremely happy & you trust them as much as you can, btw I still worry you’re going to walk out on me the minute I’m not the most understanding or nicest person alive. Can you please have enough patience to give me time & understanding & let me go two steps forward & one step back while I figure out how to navigate sharing my life with you. How do you tell friends you don’t invite them into the more personal parts of your life because you don’t trust them to be happy for you. You’ll just hurt their feelings. 

Erica always tells me it’s normal to feel this way, after all, trauma doesn’t go away because you’ve come to terms with it. But no one wants someone that’s damaged & has baggage & doesn’t really know how to be happy without wondering when it’s all going to go to Hell, even though we all have baggage. So, I need to come to terms with my own insecurities about my job, my parenting, my life, my relationships so I can rebuild the trusting part of me that I lost over the years. 

So, I started to do just that. I focused on meditation & yoga, also to heal a strained hip flexor that has plagued me for a week. I compiled a list of all the things that scare me about being with someone. Then I laughed at it because 99% of it was ridiculous. I reminded myself that I may not trust everyone, but I trust the right people. My closest friends love & respect me. My boyfriend absolutely loves me & understands how I got this way & will let me figure it out, but wants to help me get there. He isn’t going to leave me because he loves me, crazy and all. And my own gut instincts tell me I am fine. My life is beautiful. My new job will be successful & my writing career will continue to flourish & once my hip stops throbbing, I’ll continue to focus on health & be a bad ass MHC. 

But the thing is that we always expect someone to fix us, make us better, etc. But I don’t want that. I want to make me better. I want to be comfortable with trusting people for myself, not for my friends or my boyfriend or whomever. So, it’s a struggle sometimes. But I guess admitting it is the first step to moving forward. And the best way to learn if you can trust someone is to trust them, and every day I get better. There will be moments of doubt or whatever, but the more time I put in with someone, the more the doubt will go away. 

So, I’ll keep doing what I do; focus on my happiness & making my family & partner happy. And trolling Erica about baseball. And Crossfit. And making every day the raddest day.