Out of the Woods

I love Taylor Swift.

I know, grown women in their 30’s likely shouldn’t admit this, but I do. She’s beautiful & talented with wisdom beyond her years. Her album Red is one of the best written albums I’ve ever heard & if you listened to All too Well & didn’t cry the first time, then you have no soul.

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Taylor Swift writes about her life, which is likely why her music resonates. She writes about her joy, her pain, her adventures. Of course, people choose to dissect her lyrics to find the call out to her former loves (Red was widely speculated to be about Jake Gylenhaal), often to hilarious results (like the speculation that I Knew You Were Trouble was about One Directioner Harry Styles, despite their relationship beginning AFTER the single was released). Recent interviews with Swift show her continuing disenchantment with the world; she hasn’t dated in two years so she won’t be a punchline. She has security with her at all times & you must surrender your phone to enter her apartment building. This young lady has become jaded & I don’t blame her.

One thing Swift has stressed when promoting her latest effort 1989 (which hits stores 10/27) is that she’s sick of being labelled as the girl who writes diss tracks about her exes. Swift writes about her life. Sometimes she sees things a certain way. Swift was also quick to point out that famous men like Ed Sheeran and Bruno Mars are universally praised for penning songs about their exes. Sheeran’s album + was written about a young woman he dated before fame, whom he writes about again on his latest effort x. But it’s his song Don’t, which he verbally assaults a former lover who cheated on him (later confirmed to be Ellie Goulding) that generated praise for his honest songwriting & fans took to social media to put Goulding on blast. Meanwhile, the same fans & reporters attack Swift for “calling out her exes” & her immaturity, often defending the alleged exes & claiming Swift deserves mistreatment from men because she writes songs about them. Swift took Entertainment Tonight to task for this & she wanted the music to speak for itself. So, when she released the track list for 1989, naturally they responded with excitement about the album, right?

Oh.
Oh.

I guess I understand Taylor Swift because I’m a writer. I write about my life. I write about my attempts to navigate through life without screwing it up, which happens almost never. If you are part of my life, I have probably written about you. The greatest compliment I’ve ever received was when someone told me reading what I wrote inspired them to be a better person (ironically enough, it was the person who once said the cruelest thing anyone has ever said to me). Although I don’t believe I have that power, it was nice to think that my endless drivel meant something to someone. But yes, I write about the people in my life. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes I’m not so nice. But, I write about my life, how I see events, the world around me. I try to keep it cute, but I wouldn’t be a very authentic blogger if I didn’t write about my life honestly.

However, I think it’s to a lesser degree than people think. A couple of years ago, I wasn’t happy. So, I wrote about my jaded feelings towards a belief system I no longer had (which I’ve reclaimed, albeit a bit smarter). I wrote about losing my faith in love (which I reclaimed by loving myself) & my ability to trust & songs on the radio & whatever caught my fancy…because it made ME feel better. But everyone thought it was about them; friends, family, former loves, everyone. But the truth is, none of you crossed my mind. I’m sure Taylor Swift isn’t thinking “that’ll teach him,” when she’s penning a song. She’s probably thinking “This makes me feel happy.” I know it’s weird, but not everything is a calculated dig. Writing is my therapy; it doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes I just need to put words out because when I’m doing it, I’m very at peace with myself. The same seems true for Taylor Swift. But for some reason, she’s painted as terrible & fans take up for Harry Styles & his innocence (meanwhile, Ellie Goulding remains on blast).

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The most beautiful art comes from real life. The character of Daisy Buchanan was inspired by F Scott Fitzgerald’s wife Zelda. Most of Edgar Allen Poe’s work was brought about from his feelings after the deaths of his parents, foster father & wife at various points in his life. The greatest songs were written about a concept or person that the writer was passionate about. Life inspires great works because it’s authentic & real & people understand it.

It’s funny, for all people do to dissect & discredit Taylor Swift, there’s at least one song we all relate to (my current one is Come Back…Be Here) & listen to when we’re feeling down, or romantic, etc. That’s because the emotions Taylor sings about are real. So, let’s stop wondering who she wrote about & listen to what she’s singing & enjoy her music. After all, music was written to be enjoyed, not analyzed.

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Headphones

While I generally do not care to discuss my relationship with my boyfriend (as I like having that part of my life fairly private), since he pretty much suggested this entire post (complete with the title), I kind of have to.

He’s an interesting & captivating man, compassionate & smart & sweet & pretty much every good adjective you can think of. He supports my crazy desire to become the world’s greatest reporter/cell phone princess & reads literally every word I write. But, in addition to all of these amazing things, he entertains my needs to ask questions.

I’m an inquisitive sort; I need to know everything about the world around me. So, I ask a million questions; about the world, my family, etc. I ask him a million questions every day; how is your day, your life, your daughter, tell me about your job, etc. and he answers them all. I think it’s because he’s like me; he likes information. Whether it’s sports, politics, current events, world religion, he likes to know. I think that’s why we work; he’s the intellectual and I’m the journalist, the supplier of information. He loves to learn & I love to inform, we’re quite the pair. Also, he hasn’t complained about my inability to shut up ever, so either he’s mastered tuning me out or is a glutton for punishment.

However, he possesses dual citizenship & unlike most Canadians, he would actually prefer to be American. We have conversations about when Thanksgiving is supposed to be (pro-tip; he’s wrong) & I often end conversations with “YOU WERE BORN HERE.” So, we tend to differ on the “American” vs. “Canadian” way.

Today’s horrible shooting in Ottawa put a halt to our mock fights about national pride to listen & read about what was happening. This was a horrible thing & a young man lost his life for no good reason. He’ll never have another birthday or Christmas. His beloved dogs will never see their master again. His parents will never hear his voice on the phone & my heart breaks for them. No 24 year old should be taken from this world in such a terrible way & I hope that we as a nation will stand by the Cirillo family through this horrific time.

I wanted to know why this happened, what measures will be taken to protect our Prime Minister & Members of Parliament going forward, how did a man with a gun get into Parliament, is there a second shooter, etc. The RCMP was mum. The Canadian Press seemed mute except about the lockdown. Meanwhile, CBS already had the identity of the shooter & breaking news site heavy.com had a bunch of facts about him, before the Canadian Press knew what was up. I was so frustrated, because as a journalist (albeit a fluffy celeb journalist) I didn’t understand why no one was informing us & why we as Canadians seemed to be okay with that. I texted my beau a huge rant, which prompted my epiphany that perhaps his “American” thought process wasn’t so off base & he told me to write this because I’m a genius.

The truth is; we get the media we deserve.

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My American friends are not afraid to question everything they hear. My Facebook timeline is inundated with them questioning their government, their police, the FBI, Mark Zuckerberg, and the list goes on & on. They live in a “stranger danger” sort of world. When the Boston Marathon was horrifically bombed, we had real time updates from every reliable news agency in the world, as the American media kept people appraised. We knew who, why, who was at large in hours & people knew what was happening. Today, people in Canada sat questioning how this happens here & when I would ask why it happened, I was told I was nitpicking the coverage instead of the tragedy & shame on me.

Actual quote from cbc.ca's live blog. This MAY have been what started my rant
Actual quote from cbc.ca’s live blog. This MAY have been what started my rant

While Americans live in stranger danger, we in Canada do the opposite; we don’t care. We’re ostriches. Political scandals are overlooked (one of my colleagues once wrote an amazing piece for a magazine we all wrote for about Canada’s apathy to political corruption) because that doesn’t happen here (yes it does), we flip out whenever there’s a major crime because it doesn’t happen here (a prime example was when a meth lab blew up near my old house right before I moved & everyone freaked because that doesn’t happen here), and we’re so focused on being perfect utopia Canada that we miss that bad things happen here & we need to accept that so we can learn from it so it doesn’t happen anymore. People get murdered, there is crime, there is corruption & pretending it doesn’t happen won’t make it any less true. While my feelings towards Prime Minister Harper’s politics follow “I don’t agree with anything he says ever,” he was very realistic when he said we are not immune to terrorist attacks. We are not. Fortunately our Nation escaped this horrific day with only one tragic loss. But we need to be smart and arm ourselves with information, we need to ask questions so we won’t be shaking our heads wondering how this happened because it doesn’t happen in Canada. I love my Nation; I think it’s a beautiful place and I am so proud to be Canadian, but we are not a utopia and the biggest lesson we need to take from this tragedy is like Mr. Harper said, we are not immune to tragedy, so we need to stand in the face of these things and not hope it just goes away.

Perhaps we do need to borrow a page from our American brethren and accept that bad things happen and start asking questions. It is perfectly okay to question your government. It is okay to question law enforcement. It is okay to ask what is happening in the world around you, if you are safe, because when all is said and done, these people work for us to preserve our way of life and for the most part, they do a damned good job. But if we as Canadians are not asking, we won’t be informed and we’ll have to learn from our neighbours what’s happening in our own backyard. We cannot peer over the fence and ask America who is attacking us. We need to find out for ourselves.

So, ask questions. Seek knowledge. Make the media answer those questions. Hold them accountable and let’s make it a point to make sure we aren’t ostriches as the world goes to Hell around us, because it CAN happen here.

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Centuries

There are very few things in life that I can honestly say make me angry.

I don’t like to be angry, or irritated because I pride myself on being like Ruby Gloom, the happiest girl in the world. The only things in life that make me angry are;

1. Stupid people
2. People who make other people feel like crap.

When I first read about the disgusting Cloud photo hack, I was horrified. This was an enormous sex crime. These women were being violated in the worst way & most people said “they should know better.” I’m sorry, what? Their personal items were stolen & we’re blaming them? What? That’d be like me stealing all of your stuff & then the cops saying that because you only had an alarm system & not a dog too & some of these DVD’s were rated R, you asked for it. Silly, right? I went off on a number of Facebook pages when people blamed these women saying they shouldn’t have taken the pictures. Well, funny story; since the invention of the camera, people have taken nudes. Polaroids can get stolen too. Have a nice day.

It bothered me because we were basically telling women “Hey! If you’re famous, your bodies belong to us! Nope, it doesn’t matter that you don’t want us to see these photos, you make movies, I get to own you,” and that kind of made me sick. However, the ever classy & beautiful Jennifer Lawrence said what everyone should have said in her Vanity Fair piece

…this was not a scandal. It was a sex crime.

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Fast forward to the Wendy Williams show, where Williams publicly chided Lawrence, saying because she chose to take the photos (for then boyfriend Nicholas Hoult), she’s guilty & this probably gave her career a boost! She then encouraged fans to whoop & clap if they looked @ Lawrence’s photos.

Wait, what?

You’re encouraging people to say “yay! I violated a woman!” Williams claimed she wasn’t disgusting for looking at Lawrence’s photos because Lawrence took them. That’s like saying a person deserves to be raped because they once chose to have sex. Those photos were for Nicholas Hoult, Ms. Williams, NOT FOR YOU and yes, that does make you disgusting for looking. You are a horrible person & I hope Jennifer Lawrence never appears on your show again. Jennifer Lawrence is a three time Academy Award nominee & Best Actress award winner. She is the face of Dior & most notably Katniss Everdeen, the main character of the billion dollar franchise, The Hunger Games. Nude photos didn’t “give her career a boost.” Her career was already there.

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It’s funny how we preach that women should be able to do what they want with their bodies but then shame them when they do. I’m currently in a long distance relationship, as my boyfriend lives two hours away from me. I’ll admit that I have sent him risqué (for me) photos & may or may not have promised a “sexy Skype striptease.” When you don’t have the luxury of face time & physical contact, you use what you can. However, I also trust that he wouldn’t share those photos because we are both very private about our private life (in fact, much like my children, my references to my relationship will likely be minimal). I once knew a girl who sent risqué photos to a “friend” whenever she wanted him to come over. When my friend lived far away from her then boyfriend (now husband), she made him a risqué care package. It’s more common than you think. But, instead of teaching women to look at their bodies & sexuality as a filthy & dirty thing & how dare you want your man (or woman) to look at you & think you’re sexy (which is exactly why I sent the photos, because I want my man to think “hey, my lady is really sexy, I can’t wait to see her in person again,”), let’s teach people to stop hacking clouds & humiliating other people & looking at doesn’t belong to us. I’m pretty sure Wendy Williams wouldn’t want someone going through her phone; so I’m not sure why she felt it was okay to go through Jennifer Lawrence’s.

Back At Your Door

I’m an extremely clever woman.

Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty smart. I have not one, but two college educations, I read a lot of books, I’m constantly learning & trying to evolve so I can teach my daughters that education & learning doesn’t stop when school ends. But, even though I’m really smart…I’m really freaking dumb.

I’m sure you’re thinking “No MHC! You’re brilliant! Don’t sell yourself short!” (Or “about time you figured it out. You’re so dumb that you didn’t know you’re dumb!”)

Why am I dumb? Because for a social media savvy blogger & entertainment reporter who understands that what’s online never goes away, I literally have no regard for my safety.

This past month I had a conversation with a friend who told me I needed to change the settings on my RunKeeper app because I was literally tweeting a map to my house. I was also informed that my address could be easily acquired from a misprinted address that I found funny. That’s right kids; I posted my HOME ADDRESS on the internet & didn’t even think about it. As my friend said “I could knock on your door & tell you I followed the trail of clues to stalk you. How are you not dead?” I guess no one wants to kill me, so yay?

But this is just one of the many dunderheaded things I do without thinking because I’m flipping dumb. Maybe more naive. I go jogging @ midnight because I figure no one mugs a jogger, especially one with a high end smartphone on her arm while I go down abandoned streets & A CONSTRUCTION SITE. I don’t pay attention & step out in front of cars. I put my address on the Internet & a map thanks to RunKeeper. I’m the easiest human being on Earth to find apparently. (That post has been removed & now only my friends with RunKeeper can see the map)

It’s funny how we as parents preach safety to our children but then don’t even think about our own internet safety (Hell, I didn’t even know what reverse postal code lookup was until two weeks ago). How are we supposed to teach our kids to be knowledgeable about Internet safety (or personal safety) when we literally don’t think & just assume we’re immortal? I need to think & be smarter about how I go about my day; go running earlier, maybe in the mornings, keep a walkie talkie with me at work so when I’m on the floor alone I can call security…oh, and not post my address online. That’s probably a good place to start.

Shake It Off

Happy Birthday ASH Multimedia!

I started this bliggity four years ago today and I wanted to thank all of you for going on this crazy ride known as my life with me. I’m not going to review all of the ups and downs, just thank you for reading my thoughts and feelings as life happens and hope you kept the laughing @ me to a minimum. I once had an audience of one and that meant everything to me; now I have a much larger audience and that’s really awesome. I’m so excited to see how my little creative outlet has grown.

Every year on this day I try to impart some kind of wisdom that I think will help with daily life. Today is no different.

***Disclaimer: I am a moron. Helpful wisdom is for entertainment purposes only***

I’ve always believed that some of us were put on this Earth to change the world and accomplish amazing things. My daughters are three of those people. I once told someone very important to me that his destiny was to accomplish great things & I just wanted to be by his side while he did.
Now, I like to think I am one of those people, but then I remember, not likely. I write puff pieces & this blog. But I think we all have some kind of purpose on this planet and sometimes that purpose is hard to see when things kind of suck. For a long time, I didn’t really give myself credit for my life’s accomplishments, only my failures. But when I sit in my little house by the creek, with my punch clock job & my new media job & another media project a friend is starting, my happy and healthy children and my 65lbs weight loss, I realize that we as humans need to let ourselves feel pride in who we are. It’s okay to be selfish and say “I did this,” because we need to feel competent and successful. I know what I can do & how strong & successful I can be & I’m proud of that. I no longer need to see my worth in being beside someone; I have worth for being me.

But that’s not my wisdom.

My wisdom is a simple lesson I had to tell myself when I felt completely alone and miserable. I had felt betrayed, like an idiot, and so completely alone and humiliated. But, when I woke up in the morning, I looked in the mirror and said “I’m still here.” Those three words got me through all of the bad times from that day on. Obviously, whatever was bothering me, whatever thing that I thought was life altering and heartbreaking couldn’t be that bad, because I’m still here. I’m still here on this Earth to raise my daughters and accomplish something important. At various points in my life, like all of you, I would lay my head down on my pillow and sob and wish I wouldn’t wake up in the morning…but I did and I’m so glad that I did, because now I get to live my raddest life. I’m still here, on this planet, to make some kind of difference, so I plan to live my raddest life, and be happy, and be positive, and be the person I’ve always want to be so I can teach my daughter how to live their raddest lives.

So, if you’re in the “everything sucks” part of your journey, it’s okay. We all have that part of our story and you’ll soon learn that it’s actually one of the most awesome parts of your journey. No, I’m not insane. All of that bad, horrible crap that rips your heart out and brings you to your knees will help you see how strong and brave you can be. You’ll learn that while in those dark moments, maybe you didn’t handle them with grace or maturity (I know I didn’t), but that’s okay; anyone who says that they handled every single thing in life with poise & grace & has never gone a little bit crazy is a big liar. However, you endured and when they’re over, you’ll have the joy of knowing that you are strong and powerful and brave…and no one can ever take that away from you unless you let them. You are in control of your feelings, how you see yourself. If someone is crushing you, you’re letting them. Take control by telling yourself every day that you are worthy of living the best life. By reminding yourself that this life altering, soul crushing blow wasn’t the end, it’ll help you to keep moving on & when it’s all over & you’re succeeding & thriving; you’ll know that it’s because you learned from the bad.

So, thanks for reading four years of my drivel. I hope to amuse you for four more. I hope we get through lots of really cool stuff together. Maybe I’ll get to tell you about how I met my soulmate and I just knew. Maybe I’ll announce I got the best journalism gig ever (although I really love the one I just started) or another awesome move & of course, how my girls become women. Maybe someday I’ll write my book on love (working title is “I attract Losers”) and you can be hipsters & say you knew me BEFORE it became big & turned into a romcom starring Jessica Alba & Adam Levine. And we’ll laugh. And we’ll cry. And we’ll be strong and amazing people, because we’ll all still be here.

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Run For Your Life

Every other morning, my alarm goes off @ 7am & I haul my tired ass out of bed & go running. I turn on my Runkeeper app & my angry white boy music & run for 35 minutes in the hope that I’ll get closer to my goal of a 6 minute mile. I’m hoping to participate in a 5K zombie run with some friends this autumn, and cardio is a big part of my weight loss plan.

However, I kind of hate running. Like, a lot. It’s tiring and sweaty & makes my hamstrings sore & crappy. But, I do it because I have a somewhat masochistic relationship with running, because when my Runkeeper app says “activity complete,” and my time was faster than the day before & I ran further than I did that day, I’m sickeningly happy.

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My masochistic relationship with running has been helping me cut out my love of garbage food. After my month of no junk food, I kind of went on a bit of a binge, and my weight loss has stalled (the three pound loss this month, bringing the total I’ve lost to 63lbs hammers that point home) & I have to realize that, like everything in life, I need to be accountable for what I put in my body.

There was a time, just four months ago, that I couldn’t run for a minute without being winded. When I started Couch to 5K, that one minute killed me. But I kept at it & I can run almost 5K. As is with everything in life, little victories, get us to where we want to be. That one minute turned to three, then five, to where I am now. Everything requires work & perseverance, & then you’ll get there.

This brings me to my masochistic relationship with running & my love of junk food. When I eat that donut, I’ve just erased that run…that horrible, horrible run. That twisted sense of accomplishment when I’ve gotten better than I did the previous run was just undone by a freaking donut. Why would I torture my body for the sick thrill of that victory just to ruin it because donuts are really yummy?

So, it’s time that I break up with junk food. Healthy living is 80% diet & I’m probably only doing 60% & that’s just not good enough. I have health & fitness goals & I’m not going to achieve them if I’m not giving them my all.

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So, I’m sorry donuts. While I’m sure we’ll get together every once in awhile, every couple of months or so, I have goals to reach & long term health to think about so it’s not you, it’s me. I’m thinking about what’s best for me, my body & what I want to teach my daughters about food choices & donuts, they don’t include you.

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Something Great

I watched WWE as a kid & still dig the camp factor. My daughters love it though, are very invested in the storylines & I’ll have to keep my two eldest in neutral corners as their faves AJ Lee & Paige compete for the Divas title tonight @ the Summerslam PPV event (yes, they are well aware it isn’t real, it’s all scripted & they’re all friends in real life, but you can get hurt if you try it. My middle daughter will tell you this is the best cartoon on TV & Daniel Bryan is everything).

However, I often complain at the lack of proper representation for their female characters. The Divas (until recently) were one note characters, either kind of trashy or innocent ingenue & their only storylines were bad girl wants good girl’s Divas title or is jealous of good girl. The only exceptions were the long & storied feud of Trish Stratus & Lita & the mean girls style antics of Laycool (Michelle McCool & Layla El). As a parent of daughters , it bugged me that there were no characters they could really get behind or rally around. Well, it’s as if Stephanie McMahon (the company’s principal owner & mom of three daughters) heard every mom’s concerns & did something about it.

The women have complex characters now. Divas Champion AJ Lee went from one note man eater jealous of the girls from the reality show Total Divas (on the E! Network) to complicated heroine struggling to keep her composure after an onslaught of machinations created by her “friend”. Newcomer Paige is a sweet young girl…or a master manipulator. The Bella Twins went from wooden bad girls to heroines protecting each other & their family (namely Brie’s real life & legitimately injured husband Daniel Bryan) from the aforementioned McMahon. Nikki put up with unfair advantage week after week believing that she could overcome & Brie, having had enough, challenged McMahon to stand up for her family & Brie vs. Stephanie is going to headline tonight’s PPV.

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That’s right: the main event is two women! Something unheard of in the sexist & misongynistic world of wrestling. Women are normally relegated to less than 10 minutes & put in the spot known as the “death slot,” so you can get nachos before John Cena appears. My daughters were heartbroken @ Wrestlemania XXX when they waited all night for the first Divas title match in the history of the event, only to see there were no entrances (save for AJ Lee) & their match was shorter than the time it took for the Undertaker to walk to the ring. The Divas disappear from TV for weeks while little girls sadly hope for a glimpse of Brie or Nikki & last year, a Divas t-shirt was a mythological thing. If little girls wanted something to represent their idols, they had to make it themselves.

But not anymore.

Seven women have merch for little girls to buy. There are two women’s matches a night. TWO. The women have actual storylines & Brie Bella, who’s match was famously pulled off a PPV to make room for Machine Gun Kelly to play John Cena to the ring is considered more important than the men. My daughters pleaded for their Bella shirts & I relented (& got one too) & they are excited for tonight like it’s Super Bowl Sunday with their Fearless Nikki & Brie Mode shirts. They’ve counted down the days for Bellaslam as they call it & tonight, they all get to stay up late to see if their beloved Brie can defeat the evil Stephanie McMahon.

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While to those who don’t watch, it doesn’t seem like a big deal; it’s just a campy, stupid TV show designed for rednecks & children, but to every girl who was told that they only watched wrestling for the hot guys or for the soap opera like atmosphere, this is our moment. For once, the girls we cheered for aren’t being marginalized in a dumbed down storyline that makes women look like shrews or like they only care about pleasing men or like women secretly hate each other & it’s all about jealousy. This is the equivalent of A Disney Princess grabbing the sword from Prince Charming & saving herself, or the Cubs going to the World Series. Fans waited so long & gave up hope that the day would ever come. Suddenly, for every little girl who aspires to be a Diva (including my 13 year old daughter), the main event, the star of the show, is an option. It’s attainable & kudos to WWE for realizing that girls can kick ass, girls do have feelings, & girls can star the show & people WILL care about them. Between this & the successful reality show Total Divas, it’s like WWE finally gets what they seemed to have forgotten since Trish Stratus & Lita retired; women are people; strong, resilient, confident, brave & emotional people & not just objects for men to ogle.

Now, I’m well aware that WWE will likely screw this up & break up the Bella Twins or something & turn this into a one note jealous sister storyline & remind me why they are sexist & can’t write for women, but right now I’m feeling very girl power for them & for my own kids, who get to ask to stay up without saying “if they don’t get cut” or “it’ll only be five more minutes,” because for the first time ever, the Divas are the star of the show.

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It Takes Two

My friend recently posted this to her FB page & it got me thinking (because I am a weirdo who analyzes memes);

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As the poster child for “taking too long to heal from a bad relationship,” this made me sad. So, I sent her this text;

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The reality I learned is humans choose to make themselves happy or miserable. We choose who we become & no amount of bad relationships can “turn” us into anything. I chose to be miserable & believe my former friend’s lies that it’ll all work out it I wait. I chose to mourn for the life I thought I wanted. I chose to ignore the fact that he is too closed off emotionally to give that life to me & I needed to heal from my emotionally abusive marriage to be in any position to build a life; I just missed the idea of what I thought we were building. That’s what we miss when a relationship ends; the idea of the life we were supposed to have, because we never really have it. If I had that life, we would have talked about our feelings instead of me hiding my concerns because he’d leave me. I shouldn’t have had to be afraid he’d leave if I breathed wrong or asked for my feelings to be validated or to be made a priority. If that life had been real, I would have felt safe & happy. I thought I did, but now I realize I didn’t, because I was so afraid he’d leave, because he did, all the time. What I missed wasn’t real & what made my friend feel like the graphic wasn’t real. She’s too sweet to ever do it, but if she becomes a bitch, it’s her choice, just like I chose to be miserable. I made that choice & then I un made it. I decided, much like when I mourned my marriage, that I wouldn’t mourn a life that wasn’t real. I mourned this family that wasn’t real. Reality was an emotionally defeated mom, and three little girls who were afraid of their angry father. I needed to focus on why I make bad choices, which is that I choose broken men. I choose them because I want to make them happy so I can feel happy knowing I bring someone joy. I do this because I was unhappy with my weight, my lack of byline, my insecurities about who I am. If I make these broken men happy, then I’m doing something right so I have value. So, I choose to bring myself joy, give myself value & then I won’t need to choose broken men & keep up that cycle. The only reason the cycle in the graphic exists is because we allow it. When my teen daughter mentioned the emotionally abusive relationship of Damon & Elena on The Vampire Diaries was romantic, I had to think about what I had been teaching her. I had been teaching her that women in love allow men hurt & manipulate them & it’s their fault for not loving them enough. I don’t want my daughter in that cycle, so I had to break it, for myself, for my daughters. Again, that’s a choice I’m making for us, to teach them what a healthy relationship is.

No one can “make” you a bitch or an asshole. You chose that. You chose to crush the heart of that person that loved you. You chose to let someone crush it. You made those choices & you chose to dwell & let it warp you. Why choose to destroy joy? I was destroying my own joy & for what? Nothing. So, I choose joy. I choose my happily ever after. It’s right now, in this moment. I’ll fix what makes me feel weak & make myself happy, because then no one can rip it away. But in the moment it’s hard to see that reality & seeing my friend’s pain (albeit in snippets with her talking about binge eating, etc.) made me realize something I didn’t for a long time. I understand why my ex-BFF lied for so long. I was crippled emotionally by the on & off, the intense togethers & sudden splits & the consistent rejections that I couldn’t think. I went to school & raised my kids but my friend saw me broken, so very broken. He just wanted to make the pain go away. Hearing her pain made me want to do the same thing. But we have to choose the path of reality & allowing someone time to figure out what they miss isn’t real & the real happy ending is around the corner is much kinder in the long run.

My friend is an amazing & strong woman, mother, performer & friend. She will choose joy & meet her match & live a beautiful life. Even if she doesn’t, she’ll live a beautiful life with her son. Because happy is a choice, not a situation.

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Hey Brother

Much like everyone else, I was instantly mesmerized with the beautiful story of Ryland Whittington, who’s parents made the brave choice to accept their child for who he is, transgender. Ryland (now seven) often lashed out, saying he hated himself & someday when his family died, he would live as a boy the way he was supposed to. His parents Jeff & Hillary consulted doctors & therapists, who all came to the same conclusion; Ryland was exhibiting feelings of a transgendered male who wanted acceptance. So they did. Their video explaining to friends & family that Ryland would now use male pronouns & live as a male went viral & they received the Inspiration Award at the Harvey Milk Diversity Breakfast.

However, instead of celebrating this family & their demonstration of unconditional love in a time when so many children talk of coming out to find their parents do not accept them, many bloggers & commenters claimed that these parents were actually abusing their son (before I get hatred, I want to remind you that Ryland identifies as male, so I will refer to him as the Whittington’s son).

Wait, what?

Self proclaimed “Speaker of absolute truths,” Matt Walsh claims that Ryland is too young to understand something as huge as gender & he’s confused & his parents shouldn’t have allowed it. Fox News correspondent Keith Ablow said Ryland should have been prescribed anti-psychotic medication. Both of these men stated clearly that Ryland was too young to understand what being a boy was, despite the American Association of Pediatrics saying gender identity is determined at four (Ryland was five when he began his transition).

When I pointed this out in the comment section of Walsh’s blog, along with the fact that he is not a doctor and has never met Ryland. Many of his commenters replied that doctors don’t really know anything so they were unqualified, but Walsh speaks truth. One caught my eye & inspired this post, so thank you commenter, whom I’ll call “Bigoted Psycho (or BP for short).

BP mentioned that doctors don’t know anything. She was diagnosed as bipolar, then with General Anxiety Disorder. But she knew her body & that these weren’t working & found other, natural methods to curb her anxiety & now she’s happy.

Wait, so what BP was saying is by understanding the feelings in her body, she was able to effectively convey them to a medical professional who was able to diagnose her & help her feel okay? So, when Ryland Whittington told his family he felt his body was wrong & he didn’t feel right & needed help, he was able to convey that & feel okay?

No, BP says. Ryland is a child. She was a teenager. It’s TOTALLY different. Oh, okay.

I don’t know the Whittington’s. I am not a doctor. I am not even very smart most days. But I am a parent. I love my girls more than life & I want them to be happy. I want them to know that I’ll love them if they’re LGBT, or straight, if they go to college & become doctors or if they work @ Burger King for life. I also want them to know if they feel something isn’t right, that I’ll be there for them. Whether their stomach is upset or they feel like they’re in the wrong body & they hate themselves. I want them to know that I will understand & accept them. I am their mother & it’s my job to give them the safe haven from cruel people like Matt Walsh, or BP, or the bully down the road & that they can tell me ANYTHING & I’ll help them any way I can. The Whittington’s obviously felt the same way & I have nothing but respect for them.

It’s okay not to understand what it means to be transgendered. I don’t 100% understand. But I’m learning so if I meet a trans person I can get to know them on a human level & not ask a million intrusive questions (I’m a journalist; we ask a lot of questions). But it’s not okay to tell them how they feel about what’s going on in their body is wrong. It’s not okay to tell them it’s a phase. It’s not okay to call them “it” or say they’re confused & this magic pill will fix it. It’s not okay to say that to any LGBT kid. If you don’t understand, then take the time to learn. Try to see things from their POV. I bet we’d be burying fewer LGBT kids who took their own lives if we did. And if you can’t understand, STFU. There’s lots of things I don’t agree with in the world but I’ve learned that, despite Matt Walsh’s claims, there is no absolute truth other than we are all born & we all die. Everything else is a big gray area. So, instead of judging the gray that you don’t like, focus on your own gray.

This Is How We Roll

Because I don’t have time to meet people in the city (or ever), I have an online dating account.

I’ve had it for about six months now and I’m not going to lie; I never log into it except to reply to messages. My friend & I actually compete to see who can issue the funniest comeback to the biggest creeper. The fact that some of these guys think that these are the best first impressions crack me up. I’m sure if I talked to someone who seemed cool, I might change my mind, but I’ve learned that “Plenty of Fish” really means “Bottom of the Barrel.”

I have learned what I already knew, which was that the online thing likely doesn’t work for me, but it does provide me with countless minutes of entertainment, as well as my FB friends, as I often screencap the best ones and post them on my account. So, for your entertainment, I shall post some of the best ones, so you may also ask why any of these men thought these lines were a good idea.

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