Category: Seriously WTF?

Bad Mood

by maryhelenc, posted in Fitnesslicious, Life, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?, Terrible choices I make, When Things Suck Hard

When my beloved Target closed, I bought a pair of white jeans, size 8.

I figured I’d wear them by the end of summer for my birthday in London with my friends. Instead, I moved to Edmonton on a whim one day because I make amazing life choices. Then I got frustrated with my old gym, and allowed all of the old insecurities to creep back in and I ended up gaining 25lbs back instead of continuing to lose weight. Those white jeans have never been worn. Tonight I was folding my laundry and I saw the white pants. I also noticed a black knit dress I bought to wear to a Holiday Party (which I didn’t end up going to anyway). I saw the black vegan leather shorts I bought to wear as the first pair of shorts I’ve worn since 2002. And the black and white dress I bought one spring at Target because my friend Brie said it looked cute on me (I have now decided that I will wear it to her wedding). I own lots of clothing that just hangs in the closet, never worn, because I’ve put weight back on, or I never go out.

It’s my own damn fault. I spent eight months off & some nights I don’t work out; I eat poutine and watch Total Bellas.

I don’t work out at home on days I can’t get to the gym. I’m letting my self confidence take a hit and all of my adorable clothes sit in the closet and never get to be worn. I spent money on these things. I was so excited to wear them. But now, they’re just put away in the closet, with some sad acceptance that I’ll never wear them.

Until today.

Much like I hide at home because I’m afraid that everyone on Earth subconsciously thinks I’m an idiot, I’m doing myself a disservice by not wearing my cute clothing. By sighing and saying “you’ll never fit into those white jeans, so eat the brownie,” I’m just allowing myself to have low self esteem. My best friend Melissa is kind of feeling the same way that I do. We’ve been planning a ladies only trip to Montreal for spring 2018, so I think it’s time to get us out of that self defeating attitude and start getting into that “we are so very bad ass” attitude instead.

Today is October 1/17. I’ve decided to make it my personal goal to wear all of the things in my closet that I bought as motivation to lose weight/was too self conscious to go anywhere within the next 365 days. It may seem really stupid to an outsider, but to me, it’s a goal to work towards to help me stay focused. I’m an emotional eater, so a stressful day at work will have me reaching for the chips. So, I hung the white jeans beside my bed. Every morning when I wake up, I’ll look at those jeans. That will remind me at the start of the day that binge eating isn’t worth it. I’ll focus on this;

And less on this:

Of course, Melissa isn’t one to be motivated by “reward clothing,” but she is a personal trainer that works for a fashionable clothing company, so she knows what she wants her body to look like so she can wear what she wants. Because our goals are the same, we can help keep each other accountable. I’ll also check with my girl Johanna and her fitness Facebook group to help me feel like I’m holding myself accountable by checking in every day.

I’m always at my best when I’m driven to reach a goal and right now, that goal is to wear those white pants. Maybe it seems stupid to an outsider, but I’m sure you have something, whether it’s a fitness goal, a professional goal, or a personal goal. You have your own white pants and it’s up to you to come up with a plan to achieve that goal. Set a timeline, and then make it happen. My goal is to wear all six items in my closet my October 1/18. But those white pants? They’ll be worn by spring. Every time I think about grabbing a bag of chips, or skipping a workout (if I can’t make it to Crossfit, pull out Stratusphere Sculpt or Stratusphere yoga), I’m going to ask myself if it’s worth not fitting into those pants.

I’ll be adding this to the pile of projects I have on the go (more about those HERE). Maybe I can drive my new car to my new house, wearing my white pants, if I just stay focused and work hard.

The Last of the Real Ones

by maryhelenc, posted in Life, MH vs Dating, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, Terrible choices I make

Normally, I write about my personal success stories and how I’m improving as a person and junk. Today is not one of those stories. Today is the story of the time that I did some dumb ass shit.

So, let me preface that I am not smart. Like, I’m articulate, and well read. When it comes to my line of work, I’m a god damn pro. But when it comes to men, I’m dumb as fuck. To review some of my *ahem* finer dating decisions;

1. I was married to a serial cheating, abuser for eight years.

2. I DATED MY OWN STALKER. TWICE (legit looked up my address and camped outside a movie theatre. A few months later my hotel room. TOTALLY NORMAL AND NOT AT ALL A FELONY)

3. I was once attracted to a pilot that couldn’t find north.

4. I went out a guy who lied about getting a colonoscopy to go out with another girl

So, clearly I am super good at making relationship choices. I swear, really great guys are attracted to me, BUT I AM TOO FUCKING STUPID TO PICK UP ON THEIR SUBTLE CUES OF SANITY TO NOTICE. PLEASE HELP ME. Anywho, this brings me to Mr. Oil Guy and why I am a moron.

So, Mr. Oil Guy is cute. Mr. Oil Guy is pretty chill. Funny, fun to talk to. MHC is super into Mr. Oil Guy. Mr. Oil Guy & I are planning a date. MHC is actually really excited. What could go wrong?

Well, he started telling gay jokes. The first one was more of a wrong number joke. The next few were less funny. I tried to play it off by pointing out that gay men are usually funnier and smarter than straight men, but then he got kind of defensive. So, I thought I’d point out that most of my friends are LGBT, as is my brother, so if he’s gonna keep cracking gay jokes, even light ones, I’m not gonna be interested. He then flipped it that I was being argumentative. So I apologized. We carried on. The next day we got talking about my birthday, and he got kind of defensive again. This time, because my manager bought me some shiny new headphones for my birthday (mine broke that day), because he had bought me a pair and now needed to return them (we haven’t even gone out yet). Also, that I was going out with some male coworkers. I kind of felt awkward about it. Lots of comments about brown nosing and hints that male coworkers don’t just go out with female colleagues as friends (yeah they do. All the time). But I just kept thinking that these aren’t red flags. I’m just afraid of dating. This is normal.

This brings us to the next day. Mr. Oil Guy says he’s gonna buy a phone at my work. So, I STUPIDLY TELL HIM WHERE I WORK. Then he proceeds to explain how Canadian telcos rip off Canadian consumers and there is no excuse and begins explaining to me how my job works! He tells me that subsidized phones aren’t “free”because you pay for them through your plan.

HOLY SHIT NO WAY. THANK YOU FOR CLEARING UP THE THING THAT I EXPLAIN TO CUSTOMERS A MILLION

TIMES A DAY, PLEASE DO GO ON SIR.

Finally, after I flat out ask if he’s mansplaining my own job to me, and he informs me that we are “having a healthy debate,” (about why my job is stupid), I stop messaging. I’m sooooooooooo done. If I wanted to hang out with a stubborn, arrogant, manchild who doesn’t know anything about anything and talks down to me like I’m braindead, I WOULD STILL BE MARRIED. But then, he sends me this message:

So, naturally, I throw up in my mouth a little bit (I actually replied “my hair is down”), but decide that my best friend Erica needs to see this message, because I tell her all of the things, complete with the caption “barf barf barf.”

What could go wrong?

(Narrator: everything went wrong)

In order to fully appreciate the next series of events, I present this conversation;

Yup. Sent it to him because I am fucking Einstein. I actually felt badly, because that’s some kind of rejection. But I also felt badly because I didn’t trust my own judgment. I was so afraid that I’m too picky, that I was willing to settle and ignore obvious red flags because I wanted someone to like me. I should hold myself accountable to my own standards and if Mr. Oil Guy doesn’t meet them, fuck Mr. Oil Guy. As luck would have it, I do have a date with Mr. Nurse next week, so as long as I don’t fail screenshot, we’ll see how that goes!

I should have stopped talking to him the minute I felt like I had to apologize for not appreciating the off colour jokes. Instead, I tried to look past a deal breaker and ended up embarrassing myself super mega big time. So, trust yourself guys. If something feels off, it probably is. If not, you’ll end up screenshotting their own stupid comments back to them and end up looking and feeling like an idiot. Chances are, there’s something better right around the corner. Maybe. Unless you’re me, then they’re probably fucking crazy too and you should probably get a cat.

Tell Me You Love Me

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Current Events, Douchers, Fitnesslicious, Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, When Things Suck Hard

Let me tell you the story of MH’s terrible, no good, very bad day.

It actually started off pretty awesome. I had a good visit with my boss, with lots of great feedback. My most favourite member of the management team was filling in across the hall so I got to have a good catch up with him. I got some interviews ready for my latest YEG Fitness piece. Not a bad day at all.

Then a customer called in to discuss his experience yesterday. During this call, he mentioned that he had spoken to me, but he referred to me as “the pregnant lady.” “She’s very pregnant. Huge. Ready to burst.” As I am the only woman on staff, HE WAS VERY OBVIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ME.

FIRST OF ALL, LET US GET ONE THING STRAIGHT;

THIS IS WHAT I LOOKED LIKE PREGNANT

THIS IS WHAT I LOOKED LIKE LAST WEEK

After ranting and complaining to my coworkers, I thought about doing what I always do when my ego is bruised: eat. I eat a ton of shitty food. When I first moved out here, and when my last serious relationship ended, the pizza dudes knew me by name. Some people drink; I eat garbage food. I started flipping through Skip the Dishes, trying to decide what fattening foods I should enjoy, when I closed the app and opened Instagram. I decided to post a progress pic, falling into the social media trap that if it’s on IG, it’s real. Maybe if I could convince the outside world that I was proud of my body, that maybe I could convince myself. I got feedback that ranged from hilarious to empowering. My favourite was from my gym, who made me tear up a little.

For once, social media used its powers for good, not evil! But while all of the rad encouragement was happening, I also didn’t order any junk food. Instead, 2/3 of the crew & I watched the Mae Young Classic (& decided that Candice LeRae is cute as a button) & then went for my Friday night run. By the end of the night, I was kind of kicking myself. I mean, don’t I always tell the girls that words only have power if you allow it? Don’t I have a thicker skin? Does it really matter what a customer thinks (of my appearance)? The only person who should care about how I look is me.

I guess even the toughest humans can end up with bruised egos. When you’re putting a lot of work into something, and someone knocks the wind out of your sails, it’s gonna sting. But you’ve got to handle it in a positive and constructive way. Don’t binge eat nachos; find a way to remind yourself that people who sometimes people just say stupid shit. There’s no ill intentions, they just don’t think before they speak (Dude, I am soooooo guilty of that!). But you can control your reaction. It’s okay to feel hurt, or offended, but don’t let it ruin your progress, whether it’s your health, your job, or your self esteem.

Anyone Else

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Current Events, Fitnesslicious, Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, WWE Wrasslin'

I get asked a lot why I love crossfit. Let me tell you a story. 

Thursday, I went to the gym. The workout was tough. I had to scale some of the movements & weights. I was huffing and puffing through the WOD, envious of those who can get there every day, and were executing handstand push-ups flawlessly. Halfway through, I questioned why I was even there. But as they finished, they were rooting for me and congratulating me for making it through. That kind of teamwork, along with the results I see at Crossfit is why I continue to go. We celebrate each other’ successes and support each other. It’s such an amazing thing, to see people coming together to help everyone succeed.  That success helps me in my day to day life. The next day, I went to work and had a great shift. Then I really pushed myself and managed to run 0.4KM more than my Tuesday run. When I feel good mentally, it helps me push myself physically. It’s a cycle of wellness.  

But crossfit has also helped me embrace my body. I’m never gonna be a size six again. My thighs are always gonna be big. I’m gonna have a booty from squats. That teeny waist and dress size isn’t a realistic goal for me. But part of loving yourself is loving your body. I may never be thin, but I will be strong. My fellow crossfit ladies are strong, sexy, beautiful women. They have powerful bodies that are healthy and ideal for their body type. My goal is to get to their level, but with my body. I can’t worry about a scale number, or the size on a clothing tag. Just my own health. I will teach my girls that being healthy is more important that a body type. As their mom, it’s important for me to be the role model. I can’t have low self esteem & teach them to love themselves. I have to embrace my curves, my thick thighs. It’s been a hard road, but I’m getting there. 

I’m so glad that we are now celebrating healthy body types of all sizes, and not a “one size fits all” sort of beauty. We’re celebrating healthy, active, strong women. For the longest time, Nikki Bella was my fitness inspiration. She still is. Maybe I won’t have her body, but I can develop her commitment to fitness, her enthusiasm, the way she supports all women & wants everyone to succeed. I think we all need that type of attitude. We need to love our bodies. We need to build up other women. We need to get excited about fitness & health.  I may never be a size four like Nikki, but her journey as an athlete inspires me to continue to work on my own health. 

But lately, I’ve found myself really inspired and motivated by WWE Superstar Nia Jax. Her IG feed is loaded with body positivity. She doesn’t look like the average WWE woman. She’s strong, powerful, and unlike the Bertha Faye’s & Bull Nakano’s, she’s presented as more than just a one note monster character. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, witty, and assertive. Nia Jax is not a personality free monster designed to prey on the beautiful ingenues. She’s a fleshed out character, focused on her goals, which is to be a champion. My own daughters are big fans of Nia (and while they rooted for Bayley & Sasha, were LIVID that Nia didn’t get a special Wrestlemania entrance like her opponents. They said she deserved Tinashe singing her theme, and fireworks like the others). They think she’s beautiful, strong, and funny. When I was a kid, she’d be a mute monster. But my girls get to see a powerful woman portrayed as smart, sexy, as well as dominant. 


But more importantly, she’s not like most girls. She’s strong, athletic. She is in the best shape of her body type. And representation matters. Not every woman looks like Nikki Bella, and that’s totally okay. Some women are built like Nia Jax. Some women work their asses off like I do with the knowledge that size four is never gonna happen. Instead of feeling embarrassed, women should embrace their healthy. That’s why women like Nia Jax are so important. It’s important to see that healthy and fit mean something different to everyone.  

But that’s why I love crossfit. I remember working out at the GoodLife gyms, and hearing the snickers while I was on the treadmill or when I set my machine to a lower weight, as I was a beginner. I heard the giggles in the change room, as if a fat girl had no business there. It kept me out of a gym for four years. I don’t hear that at my gym anymore. It doesn’t matter if I scaled the workout, or finished last. There’s no mockery, just encouragement and acceptance. I’m sure women like Nia hear your mockery too. They see your tweets calling her fat, calling her Nia Snacks, etc. A friend of mine has come back to wrestling fandom after 10 years off and he called her “the fat chick.” His wife (who works in fashion), commented that she looked like a strong, powerful, woman. But those comments are why women like Nia are so important. We need to teach little girls that every woman’s body is different. A dress size or a scale number can’t be your goal (My Fitness Pal said my goal weight should be 118lbs!), but being in the best shape for your individual body should be. 

If you’re a woman who is actively working on her health, celebrate that work. Celebrate your body and what it can do. Celebrate your strength, your movements, your accomplishments. Hell, even celebrate that cheat day where you ate a large pizza with extra cheese. But celebrate your body, not the number on your dress tag or on a scale. 

You’re Not Sorry

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Current Events, Life, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, WWE Wrasslin'

It’s time for another episode of “what really grinds my gears.” 


Today: why people need to stop dismissing sexual assault as “just…”

I hear it all of the time. It’s just a cat call. Just a kiss on the cheek (in the case of a reporter at Osheaga last week). It was just a friendly comment. Last year, I tweeted about an old man that catcalled me and numerous men on my Twitter feed told me it was a compliment. I should be flattered. Let me tell you, there is nothing flattering about being catcalled. It’s degrading to both parties. But they’re probably “nice guys” that just aren’t appreciated *cue eye roll emoji*. 

This week, Taylor Swift is making headlines as she is in court, battling a lawsuit filed by David Mueller, a Denver DJ who lost his job after an incident where he allegedly groped her. Swift has countersued for $1, demanding an apology.  While the trial is ongoing, a lot of comments I see online are “it was just a butt grab.” So called feminists who preach about defending women when forced to confront someone who assaulted them are notably silent (Demi Lovato, I’m looking in your direction. Maybe you’re matching on Capitol Hill…?). Feminists stop being feminists when Taylor Swift is involved it seems. No support for her. After all, it was just a butt grab. No big deal. Right?


A similar statement echoed through social media when a fan attending a live event commented that a child had slapped the posterior of WWE Raw Women’s Champion Alexa Bliss. 


The kid was praised, fans wanted to give the kid a high five. She wears such short shorts, she had it coming! Besides, he’s just a kid and it’s JUST a butt grab. No big deal! Calm down feminists, it’s not sexual assault. It’s just a playful slap on the butt! 


Except it’s not just a butt grab. It’s not “no big deal.” It’s not “calm down.” It IS sexual assault. Taylor Swift is an entertainer, but she’s also a human being. She deserves basic respect. She doesn’t deserve to be sued because she didn’t stand for being molested by a DJ. All of the “she’ll write a song about it,” etc. jokes do not take away from the fact that this man allegedly sexually assaulted Taylor Swift. I commend this smart, strong woman for standing her ground, because the millions of little girls that look up to her are watching & she’s showing them that you do not have to dismiss sexual assault as “just a butt grab.”


I’ve been in situations where a guy took liberties. Last year a customer grabbed my ass while throwing something in my garbage can. I was furious, but when I called a friend back home & told him the story, he pointed out it was “just a butt grab.” I wear tight pants to work, right? I kind of accepted it, but I sometimes wonder how many women dismiss sexual assault or harassment as “just…” I’ve even been told by female relatives that as we age, the catcalls stop and we should be flattered that men still find us attractive. But is it flattering when it makes us feel gross? To me, flattering is something that makes us feel good, not super gross. I can’t imagine Taylor felt good, and considering she complained & Mueller was fired. I can’t imagine Alexa Bliss feels good when grown ass men teach little boys to slap her ass and catcall her. It’s not flattering, nor a compliment. We need to stop referring to this behaviour as such and refer to it as what it is; harassment. To those who do these things; it’s a funny story and a high five, but to the women involved, it’s a loss of trust, a loss of personal safety. As guys like Mueller become legends around the bar, women like Taylor become labelled as cold and standoffish, because they’re not comfortable in those situations anymore. Great trade off, right?

If it makes you feel uncomfortable, unhappy, or unsafe, it’s not flattering and it’s okay to stand up for yourself and say that this is not acceptable behaviour. It’s not okay to tell a woman that it’s just a slap on the butt, or just a friendly catcall, be flattered. The more we diminish this very real harassment, the more we embolden others to think it’s okay. I commend Taylor for standing up for herself, not settling, and making this man accountable for his actions. Maybe this will encourage other women to speak up about harassment in the workplace, at a club, or even among friends when a joke went too far. After all, the only way this sort of behaviour will be stopped is when we as a society stop tolerating it, and kudos to Taylor for not just shaking it off, but standing her ground instead. 

Love Again

by maryhelenc, posted in Life, MH vs Dating, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Terrible choices I make

Part of growing as a human means being able to look internally and evolve. 

For me, it means recognizing that over the last year, I’ve sabotaged almost all of my potential relationships. 

I’ve really enjoyed casual dating. It’s been nice to go out, spend time with someone and be picky enough to cut things off if I don’t see it going anywhere. I’ve never been a casual dater. Just a relationship gal. So, this is all new territory for me. An old friend of mine once told me I needed to do that. That’s how you get over toxic boyfriends; you date. Maybe they aren’t the one. But by meeting “not the one” a whole bunch of times, you’ll also realize how much toxic boyfriend was also not the one. You’ll be able to look back objectively and go “man, that guy was a controlling prick. I don’t need that. I want qualities X, Y, and Z.” Sometimes I wish that I could message that old friend and apologize for not seeing it sooner. But he’s moved forward and so have I. We have mutual friends. Maybe we’ll check each other’s FB and see we’ve grown into cool people and reconnect. 

But I’m off topic, aren’t I? Let’s bring it back in. 

I’ve enjoyed my non committal dating. It’s helped me figure out what I do want and what I don’t. Then when I meet someone with these qualities, I can venture into a more serious relationship. But there have been times when I was really into the guy and when he pushed for us to be more serious (meet the kids, meet the family), I kind of balked and the relationships fizzled. I’m a bit gun shy. I don’t trust well. And it’s hard for me to let my guard down around men. 


I was telling one of my good girlfriends about this today. I was getting to know a guy, and I was really interested in getting to know him better. But then he asked for more personal information and I instantly clammed up & asked to keep some boundaries. I gave a high level explanation about how important moving slowly is, and I’ve had some bad experiences with men moving too quickly and then becoming awful people literally overnight. I just need some more time to get to know him while I have my guard up. He said he understood, but I can’t shake the feeling that there is no more interest on his side. That sucks, because he was a really nice guy and I was looking forward to getting to know him a bit better. 

Because I mentioned her, look how cute my friend is
I wonder if this is normal, that feeling of wanting to get to know someone, but afraid that if you let them close to you, they’ll become a bloody fucking lunatic, and then stalk you for years. Or is that just something I worry about? I know I’m capable of long term friendships. I know I can attract a partner if I wanted one. But I feel like I question my own judgement. I mean, I have a neon sign over my head that says “I attract losers.” Am I just assuming that I don’t know how to choose a partner because my track record is a who’s who of the mentally disturbed. But I’m probably cutting out really great guys because I’m so scared that someone is going to hunt me down, tell me they love me & they won’t take no for an answer, and pick out an engagement ring and then stop talking to me two weeks later with no explanation, then stalk me. Or cheat on me with a coworker. Or be abusive. Because that’s what I pick. I have a bad habit of falling too hard, too fast. I look through rose coloured glasses and all of the red flags just look like flags. Now I look through scared bunny glasses, assuming every one will hurt me, so if I stay behind the safe wall, that won’t happen. 


Maybe it’s about balance. Maybe you need to have a combination of scared bunny glasses and rose coloured glasses. Maybe having that independent self and boundaries are important, so when the right person comes, they’ll respect those boundaries and I’ll be able to see if they have qualities “X, Y, and Z.” Maybe those boundaries are important because it helps me see what their intentions are before I’m in over my head and being dragged down, but so in love that I’m excusing the worst kind of behaviour because I’m madly in love and ignoring their true, horrible personalities. 


Now I need to learn how to balance the scared bunny feeling and avoid the rose coloured glasses. Find the “look at someone through the regular, you wear them every day glasses.” The one good thing casual dating has taught me is that “the one” isn’t the guy that walks out, or the guy who doesn’t take no. He’ll be the one who stays, is willing to put inthe work, and look at you through human eyes, not rose coloured glasses. The good thing about all of the “not the ones” is that they’ll prepare you for the actual one, who’s worth letting your guard down for. 

Maybe this is about trusting my judgment again. Letting go of this fear that only psychopaths and narcissists are capable of loving me because there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I need to start believing that really good men would be interested in me. After all, I like me. I have three jobs, three great kids, my bills are paid because I make my own money. I go to the gym, have no criminal record and most people like me. And I guess I’m kind of pretty. On the catch scale, I’m a solid 7.5.  Maybe I’m holding myself back because I’ve allowed myself to believe that nice guys don’t want me, I’m just catnip for psychos. I think it’s time I let that belief system go. There’s nothing wrong with me & I am not unworthy of a great guy. Because of this, I can slowly learn that I don’t need to be afraid of every guy, thinking he’s just going to hurt me. But, it doesn’t hurt to keep your guard up a little. Because protecting yourself is never a bad thing. 

Shady

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Current Events, Life, MusicIsLifeIsMusicIsLife, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

Anyone who knows me knows that I love me some pop music. I’ve been a huge fan of Katy Perry and Taylor Swift, along with a bunch of other cheesy pop acts, including Carly Rae Jepsen. I was an entertainment editor, so I follow popular culture. I’ve largely kept silent about the feud between Katy & Taylor because I enjoy both artists, but the other day, after reading another interview about Katy discussing her side of this saga (again) & I found myself asking a friend;

I write about my life. I’m not gonna shade someone for writing a song about another human. I write about my reactions to certain things have shaped me. I’m sure some people out there aren’t happy with my opinion of their behaviour. That’s nice. But in the end, the lesson is what I learned from those experiences. It’s why I enjoy Taylor Swift as an artist. Her songs are about her feelings as they relate to certain  experiences. Sometimes she calls herself out for her own missteps (Out of the Woods, Back to December, and the forever soul crushing All Too Well). This applies to Bad Blood. Bad Blood isn’t some diss track; it’s someone expressing their feelings over the loss of a friendship. The “diss” was about actions, stressing what the person in question did and how it made her feel. But more importantly, Taylor never revealed any details, except it was about a friend creating a professional issue and the friendship ended. 


Taylor was called a fake feminist, catty, and a snake. What was meant to be a minor point about the 1989 writing process turned into a major event.  Leading the charge was Katy Perry, who revealed herself to be the subject. In fact, despite saying she doesn’t write songs about people, she released her “anti-bullying anthem” Swish Swish. The song was chock full of thinly veiled insults towards Swift and the promotion for the song has been about how she was the victim and is the bigger person and how Taylor overreacted. Perry constantly says “I’m done talking about it” and then proceeds to speak out more about she was wronged because of the song Bad Blood while promoting a song bullying Swift. What appears to be an almost obsessive need to appear as the victim of some unfair attack almost validates Swift’s position to ignore her and feel like she was being targeted professionally. But more importantly, it looks like Perry is using Swift to help boost sales of Witness, which is sad as Katy Perry is talented enough to sell albums on her own. 


This isn’t the only account of Perry’s bullying of other women. Earlier this year, she mocked Britney Spears’s mental breakdown a decade before. She regularly makes comments about Spears’s mental health. This is not how women should behave. You don’t need to belittle other women to elevate yourself. There is room on all of our phones for Britney Spears, Taylor Swift, and Katy Perry. Heck, my phone has 128gb of storage; there’s room for Gaga, and Carly Rae, Selena, and Beyoncé, with room left over for Nicki Minaj & maybe some Gwar. There’s no need to attack other women to elevate your status as HBIC. 


Maybe we as humans elevate the need for girl drama. Look at when Fifth Harmony member Camilla Cabello left the group. It wasn’t about creative differences; it was obviously about catfights and jealousy. When Zayn Malik chose to leave One Direction, it wasn’t rumoured that the guys were jealous of Zayn’s face and hair. It was “oh. He wants to go solo. Good for him.” Look at how fans pit artists against each other on social media. They’re still fighting about Britney vs. Christina. It’s been 20 years since they released their first singles. Is it the women, or are we obsessed with these supposed girl feuds? I’m guilty of it too. I was talking about it with friends. I just called attention to Katy Perry’s bullying of other women. Maybe the narrative continues because we encourage it. 


Or maybe, we should hold women accountable to walk their talk. Katy Perry talks about how women should build each other up and she wants to empower, and in the next breath shit talks another woman. She tells a story about how she stole background dancers from Taylor, and knew it would be a problem, but she’s the victim because Taylor wouldn’t apologize to her and wrote a song about her feelings. Then says women should build each other up, because she’s a feminist and not like that mean bitch Taylor, who could end all of this if she just apologized to Katy, the victim. Poor Katy. But don’t worry, she’s not crazy like Britney. See? She loves all women, just not ones with mental illness, or that made her feel bad. They’re bitches. She’s so sweet. That is true fake feminism & it makes all of us look like catty bitches who are desperate for attention. 


It’s okay to write about feelings. Some of the most powerful and moving songs were written by true life events (as long as they’re written by men, but that’s another rant for another time…wait, I’ve already written it!), but using those events, or the misfortunes of others, to build yourself up to sell records isn’t. And we need to stop hanging on every tidbit of gossip and shade like the world is a human soap opera. Those are real humans with real feelings. We need to stop listening and tell people who participate in this kind of pettiness that if their work was good, they wouldn’t need to use other successful women to give it a platform. It would sell on its own…

…swish swish. 

That’s My Girl

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Fitnesslicious, Life, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?

Let me tell you about my best friend Melissa. 

Total hottie

She’s a mom, manager, wife, fitness guru, and blogger (read her stuff. It’s rad. Also, follow her on Twitter). She’s the most patient, understanding, and all around coolest person that I know. For 15 years she’s been my other half & we’ve been through everything together. Even though I’m like, a bazillion time zones away, she’s still got my back and we talk all day every day about fitness, parenting, family, and really deep things. 


But the big thing we talk about is career. We both work in similar fields and want to move up the corporate ladder. It’s important to us to be successful working moms. We need to be good role models for our kids. We have bills to pay. We’re boss bitches. Yesterday, we both messaged our respective DM’s with ideas we had to grow our businesses. I always get super nervous when I do that. I’m always afraid I’m going to overstep my boundaries, or my idea is bad, or I’m undermining someone. I was walking through WEM (on the never ending search for a Finn Balor Pop Vinyl), and I kept wishing I was like Melissa. I wanted to be logical and articulate and super smart. I wanted to feel confident when I spoke to my boss, not like an awkward weirdo. I admired her for being so brave and bold and cool when she hits me with a truth bomb;


Wait. What?!

Here I was admiring Melissa for being the most bad ass person that I know and she thinks everyone loves me?! What?! I was so confused; how does this confident, cool, level headed, goddess look to weird, scatterbrained, delightfully dim ME as someone people love and admire?! It floored me. But then I realized how women look at each other and then ourselves. 


I looked at my best friend as the coolest person on Earth. She saw me as someone people admire. I saw myself as a big fucking weirdo. She saw herself as Michael Scott from the Office. We saw each other as amazing, and looked down on ourselves. It’s so amazing that so many women are rejecting the idea that all women secretly hate and compete with each other, but why are we selling ourselves short? Why aren’t we building ourselves up while also celebrating how great our girlfriends are. We always joke that there would be world peace is everyone treated each other like drunk girls in a bathroom, but maybe we also need to add that we need to look at ourselves with the same lens we look at our best friend. Maybe then we wouldn’t feel so awkward. We’d be confident. We wouldn’t be competing by way of admiration; we’d embrace self love and build up others. 


I’m not sure if everyone loves me. But I do know that someone I admire thinks I’m confident and strong, so maybe I should respect their opinion and own it. I hope she totally owns being awesome too. We respect our friends; let’s respect their opinions and stop selling ourselves short. Ditch that critical internal lens. Let’s start building up all women; including ourselves. 

Strip That Down

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Current Events, Life, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

Today we’re going to talk about the man romper. 

Ever since they hit runways last week, there’s been a ton of feedback, mostly about how man rompers aren’t for straight men, no “real men” would wear a dude romper, etc. 


This really made me sit back and ask myself one question; 

“Why the actual fuck are we so concerned with what other dudes are wearing? Like, seriously?”

I have never understood this concept. Mostly because I wear whatever the Hell I want and don’t really give a flying frog’s ass what you think of my clothing. Unless you are paying my bills, mama wears whatever she feels comfortable in. This means I’m going to go to Sephora and buy my highlighter and rock my Sailor Moon shirts and a big middle finger to those that don’t like it. I pay for it; imma wear it. I didn’t put on the makeup to impress you, or because I wanted attention; I like it. The end. 


Which brings me back to the dude romper. If you’re a dude and you want to put on a romper, knock yourself out. Rock that romper. Wear it to the mall. Wear it to get chicken wings. Do you. It’s a piece of clothing. If you don’t want to wear one, don’t. But questioning someone’s masculinity over a piece of clothing is weird. What makes a “man” anyway? I always assumed you identified as male, generally you have a penis, and that’s about it. Like, obviously there are really good men, who respect their mates and pay their bills on time and don’t commit major crimes vs. Fuckboys, but that’s another story. To be male, you would need to have been born male or transitioned into being male. How would the dude romper affect that? Is it a magic romper? I’m confused. Please help me. 


Life is too short to judge people by what they wear or how they look. Wear the makeup or don’t. Dye your hair pink or don’t. Wear the dude romper or don’t. And don’t call people names for having pink hair or wearing the miniskirt or buying the dude romper. Don’t shame people for wearing a fatkini. At no point in time are you ever allowed to tell an adult what to wear, unless you are asked for advice on what colour man romper your bro should buy for himself. 


Humans all need to treat each other better. The best way to start is with the policy of “not my body, not my business.” The sooner we realize that, the happier we’ll all be. So stop calling women whores because they showed off their legs in that cute mini skirt. Stop calling men fags for wearing pink. Stop yelling at that girl for finally feeling confident enough to wear a bikini. Not your body, not your business. 

Finally, because I was already asked once, as a heterosexual woman, I would TOTALLY  date a dude in a romper. Seeing as my requirements are

1. Don’t be a douchebag

2. Like kids

3. Like dogs and cats

4. Like crossfit

5. Enjoy eating chicken wings and telling me I’m pretty. 

Any of those things can be done while wearing a romper. 

Fake Happy 

by maryhelenc, posted in Current Events, Life, MH vs Dating, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

There’s been an article circulating online that a few of my friends have tagged me in, mostly because it’s something I’d relate to. 

Feminista Jones, an authour and social worker, encouraged women to agree with a man when they complimented her. The results weren’t terribly surprising. Anyone who is familiar with my online dating trolling on my personal Facebook page knows all about what happens when you say “no thank you” or agree with a compliment. I thought maybe I was just a bitch, but no, apparently this is a thing. 



I’ve seen this in my previous long term relationships, and even the workforce. Weak men do not like it when women are confident. My ex husband once made his own Facebook fan page with photo albums of “his” cover stories. They were all written by me. His answer was that he was the reason I was a good writer, so they were kind of his. Before I started at my new job, a male colleague at my old job told me not to get a big head when my performance was commended, it was a team effort and don’t think you’re so perfect. Agreeing with a compliment makes you a vain bitch. We’re taught that a woman only has worth if a man sees it, and that is bullshit. 


I read a lot of comments from men about why women should just say thank you, be humble, stop being full of themselves. But why is it that when a woman thinks she is smart and pretty and worthy of love an attention, she’s suddenly unworthy of attention. This trope is common in pop culture. Look at One Direction. The girl is only beautiful BECAUSE SHE HAS NO IDEA THAT SHE IS BEAUTIFUL. Had she known, then Zayn wouldn’t have found her so attractive (sorry Gigi). Every teen movie is the same; the pretty, popular girl is a bitch and the nerd is only pretty when a guy tells her that she is. What a great lesson girls! You’re only amazing when a boy tells you that you’re amazing!

It makes me wonder why the world continuously forces the idea that women who are assertive and aware of their value are somehow bad. Why should we only feel pretty because a man tells us we’re pretty? Why should we only giggle and say thank you? Why can’t we know our own value? We wonder why girls have low self esteem, but then they’re inundated with the idea that confidence = lack of humility and women are only desirable when they’re innocent and unaware of who they really are until their prince comes to sweep them off of their feet. Why do we need that? To me, that feels like we’re encouraging low self esteem and breeding controlling and abusive relationships. That’s how we end up being told “without me, you’re nothing,” and we believe it. Why? Because we’re taught that feeling good about who you are makes you vain and conceited and no one wants that. Be the quiet, meek, girl who doesn’t know she’s gorgeous. That’s how you end up with Freddie Prinze Jr. instead of all alone. 

We need to start telling ourselves that we’re beautiful and stop waiting for Freddie Prinze jr. or an online creeper to tell us that we’re pretty. Like Ms. Jones said, agree with compliments. It’s a good way to weed out the men from the weak minded jerks. The one who respects your confidence is the one who will elevate you to be the best version of you, by supporting you, not trying to reshape you into some stepford simpleton who giggles and falls at their feet because they said you’re pretty. 

I know I’m pretty. I’m really smart too. I’m good at my job. I’m pretty okay at crossfit and my running times improve. I can carry a tune pretty well and my hair is super cute. I don’t need anyone to tell me these things and you don’t need anyone to tell you either, because despite what Harry Styles says, you DO know you’re beautiful & that’s what makes you beautiful.