Hollow

I know I’m overtired & overwhelmed & likely grossly malnourished as I’ve been living on a steady diet of protein bars, coffee & bottled water & that’s pretty much it. I haven’t slept for more than two hours straight, I’m homesick & I barely know what time it is. Fortunately, my three hour chat with the Gleason Table has kept me a little sane. 

But I miss my daughters & the longer they’re away from me, the more anxious I get. I worry if they’re safe, they’re eating right, are they having fun. What if their dad doesn’t bring them back? And then, the nagging thought that bothers me to the point that I cry a lot. 

What if I am a terrible mother?

Please don’t inundate this blog with comments about how great I am & poppycock. My intention isn’t to be self congratulatory or get compliments. It’s an honest question; am I a terrible mother? 

When I made the decision to move out here, my intentions were good. I wanted to give my daughters more than a mom who works themselves to death at two crappy retail jobs. I wanted to be better, be home for stuff, spend time with them. I wanted to show my 14 year old daughter that you work to achieve your goals. I wanted to increase my earning potential & give them more. But as their dad & grandparents rail me for taking them away so they’ll never see them again & I hang out in my empty house, I wonder if I truly am alienating them like those horrible women that all the Facebook memes talk about. 

Then I find myself talking to friends about helping him find a job here, opening a joint account so we can mutually save for visits, ensuring that they have skype dates, etc. I keep trying & trying to make this easier, but then I learn he’s spent one of the last five days with them. He took them for frozen yogurt & returned them to their grandmother. That’s when it hit me; I’m trying to force him to be a parent so I don’t feel like a bad mother. 

That probably sounds weird, and maybe selfish. But it’s what it is. I grew up without a dad, but that wasn’t by his choice. He died. I don’t want my girls to not have one. So, I push and I push & I probably alienate him further from his kids so that I can feel like I tried to make sure they have two parents. So, now, while I’m a zillion miles from my daughters, I can’t understand why he isn’t maximizing every second with them. I don’t understand why his family just admits that he’ll likely never be part of their lives after this month is done & he brings them to the airport. And I feel all this guilt because they blame me for “alienation.” (Except for an Uncle & a cousin who are really cool people & I’m very grateful for them) Meanwhile, the kids suffer because I encourage the relationship. They made Father’s Day crafts & my two youngest waited by the window because surely Daddy would surprise them. But no one came. Hours passed & not a phone call, until my eldest called. I strong arm him into taking them for a month while he tries to send them back. I force him to be a dad so I don’t feel like a bad mother. 

I remind him that my oldest daughter has her own phone & he can call whenever. But I can’t force someone to do what they don’t want to do. But I keep doing it to ease my conscience because they need a dad & what if it’s my fault that he’s not willing? 

I think about everything I do to be a good mother. I work, i stay healthy, I try to be a good person & kind. I try to be the example so they don’t need to look up to sports Heroes or celebrities, they can look up to me. But I still feel like if I can’t somehow make their relationship with their dad positive, I failed as a parent. 

So, I try to ride out the next 18 days, feeling lonely & isolated. No one has asked to go to the park or play on my phone. The minions movie comes out on Friday & I can’t take the Overlord, with her minion Steve. No one has told me about how this friend flirted with this boy and now this other friend is totes mad & so & so wore the same shirt & its war. But mostly, no tiny people have hugged me. I haven’t read the Paper Bag Princess for the zillionth time. And that’s because I made this choice to give them time with their dad. Time he’s not even using. And I can’t help but feel like it’s all my fault, like my choices to better my situation to give them more broke that relationship, which makes me a terrible mother & someday they’ll hate me for not doing more to help them see their dad, and no matter what I do to be a good role model, they’ll just think I’m a terrible mother. Maybe in the end, it won’t matter that I’m obviously doing something right, as the not so angry teen is bright & beautiful, the overlord has the highest grade in EVERYTHING, and the pirate princess is witty & funny. Maybe they’ll see me as the “self centred c***” their father calls me, which would likely break my heart. But maybe that’s what they’ll think & see, because maybe I’m just a terrible mother. 

Jet Pack Blues

So, hey, I live in another province now. 

I’ve affectionately coined it “the cow province from Hell,” mostly because I don’t know what time it is, Erica & I still aren’t in the same time zone & I don’t actually have furniture. Or Internet, and I won’t have Internet for another two days because apparently my ISP is…special. And I only know three people. Fortunately, they’re the raddest people & have helped my navigate my way around & sat up late talking to me because my circadian is completely off & I’m terrified that I’ve ruined my life. No matter where I go, I’m always blessed to have the greatest friends & loved ones who make me feel completely at ease. And I am grateful. And I thank them so much. 

The other bonus is that I’m getting right into work writing, which was the point of this entire exercise; I want to be a writer & a damn good one (please don’t gauge my body of work from this blog, I’m a really good writer, I promise). Once I settle into my real people job on top of writing locally & not remotely, juggling time zones & trying to make Western Canadians understand my Ontario area code while balancing no sleep & work. I can expand my portfolio while continuing to inch closer to the goal of finally landing my dream job of full time reporter. 

In the interim, I figured I’d regail you with a photo essay of my travels, because as I’ve mentioned, I’m the worst traveller ever. If you missed my epic live tweet, where I inadvertently offended WestJet among other gems, here’s the Coles’ Notes version, while I try to find food. And maybe an air mattress because sleeping on the hardwood floor sounds awful. 

 

Big ups to my cat, who stopped trying to claw her way to freedom & accepted her fate of travel

 

 

How normal people see the view from the plane

 
How MH sees it
  

Dear Calgary, when I finally found coffee in your airport, I almost stopped hating you

 
I like to offend my friend Paul

 
Airplanes aren’t so bad when you have 900 songs to listen to. These were my albums of choice. I should probably finally admit that Fallout Boy doesn’t suck anymore, but I refuse to let Alys win.
 
 
Peachy survived the flight & learned she likes luxe hotels
  
 
And WestJet gets offended when I call them cheap for not having wifi
 
 
And I learned that jet lag sucks & the struggle is real

 
But I found nature, so I am good
 
So, what’s next? I guess conquer everything! Climb a Rocky Mountain, dominate in my own adorably flighty way! Or maybe just painting & actually getting some sleep. Either way, the mind numbing terror has subsided & I’m suddenly feeling okay with this. I’ll adjust. Things are fine. And I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted because life sometimes surprises me in ways I never expected & things just work out in the most beautiful ways & I am very happy. Terrified, but truly happy. Of course, I’ll be happier when this reaches zero: 
  

So, in the meantime, I’ll just continue to work on the list that I made for myself to adjust into Western life.  

I guess it should say “additional people I don’t hate.”

 And it will all work out. And I will be successful & happy. And my girls can finally be proud of me & I’ll be the role model they deserve & worthy of the honour of being their mother. Or I’ll have completely fucked up my life & I’ll end up in a box fort! 

We’ll see. 

And I’ll still dress like a slob. It’ll be rad

Close to Heaven

The girls are gone & my furniture is leaving tomorrow & it’s just me and my cat getting ready for the flight & it’s weird. I should be sad that I’m leaving this life, but I feel like I’m finally heading to where I belong. Maybe I’m screwing up my life, but I’m doing it all for me & my family. When Target closed, I decided it was a sign from the universe that I needed to make a valiant attempt to pursue my goals & be the role model my daughters deserve. And it all came together very easily (When I finally made up my damn mind) so I feel like this is where I belong & I’ll have almost everything I’ve ever wanted. Not a bad gig. 

I’m putting my cat on a plane. That won’t end badly.

However, If you are new to the party, I’ll get you up to speed; I hate travelling. I like going places, but the time it takes to get there makes me annoyed. With this being said, I will (as always) be live tweeting my journey, so be sure to follow me on Twitter & enjoy! I can promise at least one Twilight Zone reference & I’ll probably say I hate someone at least twice, so there’s that. 

But before I go, I wanted to take a moment to showcase all of the amazing people I have in my life. You are my favourite people in the world & I love you all. My heart breaks to leave you, but I have a destiny to fufill. I was called to be a writer & write I shall. But I will miss you more than life. 

   

This girl is the scarecrow to my Dorothy; I will miss her the most
  
He can be the Wizard
  

        

sweaty, post 2k row selfie with one of the raddest coaches ever
 

I guess all that’s left is the great voyage for Peachy & I. In 48 hours I’ll be the one with the pink suitcase & the cat with no idea what time it is…and that’s when the next story begins. 

  

I Wish You Would

If you’re a long time reader of my blog, you’ll know that I have an almost childlike love of Taylor Swift. 

I adore all things Taylor Swift. I preordered her album the second iTunes would let me, I rock out to her discography daily & I may have paid some criminal @ StubHub almost $1000 to replace my Toronto tickets with ones more local to the new city & on August 4/15, the girls & I will get to see our Queen. We’re all very excited. The girls have a countdown, the not always angry teen has her outfit ready, the overlord has looked up the setlist & my IG has an amazing video of my five year old’s epic performance of Bad Blood. We REALLY like Taylor Swift. 

Remember when Target (RIP) had a Taylor Swift selfie stand & I dedicated large chunks of my shift to posing with it? Because Pepperidge Farm remembers.
Remember when Target (RIP) had a Taylor Swift selfie stand & I dedicated large chunks of my shift to posing with it? Because Pepperidge Farm remembers.

I also REALLY like Apple. During a job interview for the Apple Store, I was asked what set me apart from other candidates & I said I’d give them a kidney. When new Apple products launch, I sing “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.” I am a proud iSheep with my gold iPhone 6 & I regret not one thing. So, imagine my basic white girl horror when my favourite artist & favourite brand appeared to have an issue (I may have cried. Okay not really. But I thought about it). 

To keep things fair, I also sometimes pose for photos with my beloved iPhone
To keep things fair, I also sometimes pose for photos with my beloved iPhone

When Taylor Swift wrote her open letter to Apple, she said what everyone who considers themselves an artist has always thought, but never been able to drive home; expecting artists to work for free for the exposure is ripping them off. We should all be compensated for our work, whether it’s digging ditches or selling out stadiums. 

I have had the pleasure of getting to know many indie artists over the years, and I would suggest you check them out. I built my career interviewing these artists & they are all talented & creative people & I’m so grateful that I was afforded the chance to get to know them. Check out Mic Lordz & Sauce Funky, Inoke Errati, Gypsy Chief Goliath & Cowboys in Cardigans (front man Jamie Reaume’s Way Back Home is still one of my favourite songs). Most of these talented artists are on iTunes. But they wouldn’t have been paid had you streamed their music. Taylor was right when she said it wouldn’t affect her, but that’s a lot of free streaming for the artists above. These guys have homes, families. They worked hard. Why shouldn’t they be paid? 

You wouldn’t ask your doctor to work for free, or a lawyer. You wouldn’t tell your hairdresser that your free cut & blowout would help them get business. So, why do it to those lucky people who are willing to risk it all for their one goal of entertaining you? Seems like a jerk move. 

And Taylor Swift knew it. 

Taylor Swift is aware of her power. She knows how influential she is & that she has the power to speak for the guys playing open mic nights on the weekend while recording awesome new stuff…

…and she used it. And Apple will pay artists. Taylor Swift brought change. 

All hail the Queen
All hail the Queen

Call her greedy. Call her selfish. Call her whatever you want, but you missed the point. Taylor Swift’s motives may not be 100% altruistic (but I believe they are), but she spoke up & made things change. She used her voice, something so few of us do. She saw something wrong & called the big bad company out on it (I’m sorry Apple) & made a difference. She opened discussion about why artists deserve compensation for their work. One person made a difference. 

But most importantly, Taylor Swift is a role model to millions of little girls all over the world, including mine. My eight year old daughter thinks “Queen Taylor changed the world yesterday!” Maybe not, but she taught millions of girls that when something is wrong, you stand up & speak out & one girl CAN change things. One person can spark change so don’t be afraid to be that one person. 

So, thank you Taylor. Thanks for defending your fellow artists. Thanks for showing little girls to use their voices. You’re a true role model & inspiration & I’m glad my kids look up to you. But most importantly, thanks for being someone deserving of that praise. 

  

Not Gonna Die

I know I write a lot about my love of healthy living, most notably about crossfit, so I’d like to reference you back to important things about me & my blog, one of which is “huge douche about my love of crossfit.” It’s important to me to stick to my goals & improving at the gym helps me live better & be happier. Endorphins keep anxiety away which helps me look at my life & see what a charmed life I have & helps keep me grateful for how lucky I am to live this life. 

But I digress. 

Anywho, I was surfing the Facebook this morning & I saw this random post about a runner encountering an overweight woman running & how he was really proud of her for starting her journey to health. It made me think of my first day at my gym & how nervous I am about switching gyms because of the move (despite the one 10 minutes from my new house offering UNLIMITED CROSSFIT. *Homer drools*). 

West London Crossfit is full of cool people. Despite what you’ve read about crossfitters being elitist douchebags, they’re pretty much the raddest people. My first month there, I was so intimidated. These people were athletes; I am me. I am barely coordinated & overweight & not strong. So, I often hid in a corner & hoped no one could see me struggle through my burpees & power snatches & sometimes I was so embarrassed that I was trying to do what the bad ass athletes could do that I wanted to quit. However, they did see me. And one day, about five weeks in, while going through a workout, huffing & puffing, all of these athletes were cheering & encouraging me to keep going, I was doing great! I finished, but most importantly, I came back & I kept going back. I stopped being afraid. I entered the open. I tried really hard. And now, when new people come, I’m the one encouraging them, which isn’t as meaningful as someone who’s lifting twice their body weight, but I want to pay that forward. Hopefully, the new gym knows what big shoes they have to fill, because the good peeps at my gym helped me realize what I was capable of. 

Which is why I’ll never understand the idea of people bullying the fat person on the track or at the gym. They’re trying! They’re working & struggling & hoping to reach healthy goals. Yes, they may not be doing what you can do, or they’re using the equipment you needed, or worse, are the dreaded resolutioner, but I bet you were once one of them. You didn’t come preprogrammed to rock fitness. Why not smile, or offer a small encouragement? That might be the thing that gets that person back tomorrow, instead of quitting & feeling like they couldn’t do it & shouldn’t be there. I’ve always been fortunate to have support because my best friends are personal trainers. But for others without that support, your smile or eye roll may be what keeps that person coming or why they quit. 

And what you do influences the next generation. I’ve mentioned in the past that my kids come with me to the gym often. I often hear them encouraging the people just starting out & that they’re doing great. And just yesterday, while I was finishing a workout, climbing a rope (which I hate & is really hard), I was pulling myself up & struggling. Then I looked over to see that my kids had made encouraging signs, which made all of the difference. 

 
We were put on Earth to help each other, not tear each other apart. Let’s not tear each other apart when we are at our most insecure and exposed. After all, you wouldn’t want someone taking your flaws & picking you apart for trying to change them. 

   

Take Your Time

Let me tell you what happened this week, because I’ll rank it among the top five most utterly heartbreaking moments of my adult life. 

All my life I’ve worked for one goal; to be a reporter, in an office, with a beat & headlines. I’ve dedicated my entire professional life to this goal, despite learning I’m really good at selling cellular phones & leading people. This is my calling, my passion, my entire reason for being (as well as raising tiny humans, but raising tiny humans is far more important). 

So, imagine my joy when I was contacted by a headhunter & offered a position with a rural newspaper…

…AND I HAD TO TURN IT DOWN. 

That’s right! I HAD TO TURN IT DOWN. Because it’s a rural newspaper, I would need a fully valid driver’s license (and I need to get one for the province I’ll be moving to) & a serviceable vehicle; two things I do not have yet. While it’s on the to do list & the editor was impressed enough with my body of work to consider me for future opportunities, saying that “no, I will not take the only job I’ve wanted since I was 8 years old,” was soul crushing. 

(If you’re thinking “Gee MH, aren’t you being a little overdramatic?” The answers are:

1. Have we met? Duh. 

2. Of course I am! When it comes to achieving my professional goals, I’m very serious, maybe overly serious)

Fortunately, it’s not like I’m screwed & stuck in a job I hate. I really like my job. Once I meet my new team & integrate myself into my official workplace, it’ll be really nice. I’m building a career & valuable management experience that will take me far in life. All good things. I refuse to let one kick in the teeth stop me from the goal. It’s just a helpful reminder that my years of being super stubborn & couldn’t see that my refusal to learn to drive was affecting my ability to reach the goal. This begs the question; could I have been doing this, working in my field this whole time, had I just done the obvious & learned to drive (of course, what’s best for us is generally the thing that was right in front of us the whole time, that we ignored or worse, pushed away, but whatever). 

So, I’ll just resolve these hiccups while working at becoming the best darned cell phone manager lady ever. It gives me a chance to settle into my new surroundings, build my life, tailor my writing to my new demographic. I mean, yes I’ve been doing it for months, but you can never get “too good” & you can never work to be the best at your job too much. 

 

In the interim, I’ll focus on becoming the best in my cellular sales field. As a “manager in training,” I’m learning how to lead a team, which will only bring about positives for me professionally. I like my job. I like sales. It’s unique & allows me to be charismatic & charming while learning about business & market trends. Not to mention cell phones will NEVER GO AWAY so I’ll always have earning potential. Yay wireless! 

But the most important thing to me is that this showed me that I AM heading in the right direction. I’m writing & working & it’s all been an easy transition (well, until I put my cat on an airplane in three weeks. I feel like that may have some challenges) & I have a chance to achieve all of my goals once I learn to drive (so I WILL make sad puppy faces @ my friend Kristina & convince her that being my driving tutor is a good idea). This may be the ticket for me to achieve everything I want for my professional life, which sounds pretty rad to me. 

  
Erica says that this was a sign from the Good Lord that I’m on the path to success once I LEARN TO FREAKING DRIVE. SERIOUSLY, WHO CAN’T DRIVE IN THEIR THIRTIES?! (We may have this conversation a lot) I don’t know if that’s what the universe is trying to tell me, but I’m going to assume I’m on the right path & keep on going. 

This sassy & confident pose seemed fitting. Also it has a lovely view of a serial killer hotel I stayed in. And my Avengers shirt. All good things.

Fearless 

 I’m going to post an unpopular opinion. I’d apologize for posting my unpopular opinion, but I’ve always kind of said what I wanted and if you don’t like it, too bad.  As much as I love hate mail, you were warned. 

Here it is. 

 

For the next four days, I will be finishing my tenure as a retail associate for a large department store chain. During my time here, I have gotten to listen to people as they check out. Two magazine covers got people’s attention. So I’ll post them & some of the comments I heard: 

 

“Oh she is so brave.”

“Finally, a REAL woman on the cover of a magazine. That’s what a woman is supposed to look like!”

  

“Ugh. One step forward. Two steps back.”

“Soooooo photoshopped.”

“It’s like they want me to hate myself.”

First of all, BOTH of these women look great! (And they were both likely photoshopped) The smiles, the confident poses, the hair! These women look great! 

But why does Jennifer Lopez have to feel guilty for being in shape? And why does Tess Holliday have to have her dress size announced to make you feel good? Why do we have to tear one woman apart to make you feel better about you? Why is “body positivity” “body positivity if you’re fat?”

(Yup. I used the F word. Oh no. It’s a word. It’s a body type. It does not define you)

As someone who worked hard to lose 100lbs, I know I will never be conventionally thin. I currently float between a size 10 & 12 & I’m happy there. But my goal isn’t “thin.” My goal is “strong.” Jennifer Lopez’s taut tummy does not make me feel badly. She looks hot! Tess Holliday doesn’t make me love my body more; she looks great! But they look great because they love themselves, something women struggle with because we are taught to compete with each other. Fat girls tear apart thin girls to feel powerful. Thin girls mock fat girls to hide their own insecurities. Everyone mocks girls who want muscles. And we all credit celebrities with our self worth. 

Jennifer Lopez didn’t make you feel badly about your body; you did. Tess Holliday didn’t make you feel good about your body; you chose to feel acceptance from her appearing on a magazine. But you looked the same yesterday. You probably looked hot then too. But you’ve given your power to them. My fitness inspiration is WWE Divas Champion Nikki Bella. Her commitment to being strong & not necessarily thin in a world where looks are everything is cool to me. But Nikki is not the reason I love my body. I love my body because I can squat over 100lbs. I love how strong I feel. Self love is the sexiest thing on a woman. So is health. I do not weigh myself anymore. I focus on eating well, keeping active & doing what I like to do to keep active. Are there thinner girls at my gym? Yup. And they look great! 

 

No, I did not pick this photo of Nikki because Seth Rollins is in it. okay, yes I did.
 
Women, take your power back. Stop with the “real men love curves” or Fat shaming jabs. Embrace that every woman has a unique body & learn to love your own. 

Let’s all repeat this:

All women are beautiful if they are a good person. I will not belittle another body type or transfer their perception of themselves or what makes them beautiful to feel badly about myself. I will respect differences & appreciate that we are unique. If I don’t like myself, I will commit to changing what I don’t like in a healthy way & not put down others to feel better. I will be a woman who builds up other women.

Because loving yourself & others looks better than a great pair of jeans or a bikini. 

  

Blasphemy, Myself & I

Today, I took two hours out of my super busy life and did something that I wanted to do.

I know, holy crap, right?!

(Today also featured a series of unfortunate events that forced me to call into work for the first time in nearly six years. This troubles me, but I can’t sweat it; it happens. Life sometimes messes things up. I’ll be back on the normal “this would kill a lesser woman” schedule again tomorrow)

I attended a super rad seminar hosted by gym about eating. As someone who spends 97% of her life working and the last 14 months dropping 100lbs, this is super important to me. I can’t undo all of this hard ass work by eating garbage food. After all, it’s not like I have a lot of time for meal prep, but when I do I prep the crap out of stuff. I have worked too hard to be amazing to let a little thing like “working literally every second of my life” undo it.

I'm big on comparisons, so I present the fitness evolution of MHC
I’m big on comparisons, so I present the fitness evolution of MHC
But part of the seminar reminded me why I love crossfit so much; which is the belief that there is no limits to what you and the human body can do.

The seminar stressed that we need to change our thinking in order to progress. You can’t just run on the same treadmill or eat the same foods or think the same way. We as humans need to grow and evolve. The crossfit mentality is there is literally no limit to how strong you can become, how fast you can go. There are no limits to what the body can do. Isn’t that super rad? There is something so exciting to me about the idea of growth, of evolving, of changing and growing. While yes, I am stubborn as a damn mule and I know what I want and will not settle for anything less than the life that I deserve, the career I want, or what I think is the right thing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to improve things, change things, learn, grow, try things from a different perspective, etc. I bore easily unless it involves my children, journalism, yoga or crossfit. I can’t do the same things over and over. That’s why my career speaks to me so much. I never write the same thing twice and that’s really kind of exciting to me.

But part of eating right and living well means thinking well. In order to become the person we are meant to become, we have to believe that we are capable of being the person we are meant to become. We need to think we are amazing, extraordinary, we have a purpose, we deserve to be loved the way we’ve always wanted and we have a purpose.

purpose

Purpose isn’t something I lack, as I’ve known what I was meant to do my entire life. I was meant to be a good mother and a good person and a good writer. I was meant to be a kind person who gives to those who aren’t very kind, to themselves or others. I was meant to find positivity in less than pleasant circumstances & lead by example and raise compassionate, kind hearted and strong women. I was meant to kick life’s ass. This has been my purpose and I’ve been pretty passionate about it. In fact, unless it involves my children, Great West Newspapers, my various retail gigs or crossfit, I probably haven’t really paid much attention to it (unless you visit my tumblr, which is pretty much just a shrine to Seth Rollins at this point. I’m a huge fangirl. I regret nothing)! My drive to fufill my purpose has blessed me with opportunities to achieve my goals, three amazing daughters, a fitness program at a gym with some pretty rad people that feel like I do; that there are no limits to what a boring human being on her pink couch can do if she puts her mind to it, focuses on things that are positive and enrich me and walk with the purpose that I’m meant to achieve all of my dreams.

While talking about my purpose in life, I like to remind people that I'm actually a confused little creature with no idea what's happening around me.
While talking about my purpose in life, I like to remind people that I’m actually a confused little creature with no idea what’s happening around me.
Maybe I need to stop playing it so safe with my life. Maybe I need to start focusing on doing the things that I need to do to make me happier and fufilled, professionally and personally. My current life, while it’s not so bad in the grand scheme of things, is burning me out. I don’t have time to do the things I truly enjoy doing; raising my family, writing (well, I do have a couple of articles submitted to various magazines) and crossfit. I rarely have time to enjoy my girls, or even a good sweat sesh. I can afford to live, but what kind of life do I have when I can’t enjoy my life? Clearly I need to think of some changes in order to live the life I was meant to have. I’m not sure what that is exactly, but the next few weeks will require some major changes (& a major decision needs to be made) so I can enjoy the life I’ve worked so hard to build.

But no matter what happens, I know there are no limits to what I can accomplish. During my workout last week, I was using a 20lbs kettlebell for my Turkish Get Ups (look them up, they were invented by Satan himself), but the first time I did them, I injured my leg doing them…and that was with a five lbs dumbbell! My coach and I giggled a little bit through the memory as I plugged through the set of three unbroken reps, amazed at how strong and coordinated I’ve become. Every time I can do something more, I get excited because it means I’m getting stronger. This has a domino effect; I can get much deeper into my yoga poses and hold the more complex ones longer. The endorphins and healthy eating have improved my physical health; no longer am I experiencing migraines and rarely am I ill. I can remember a time when I was constantly having blood taken to figure out why my iron was low or my blood sugar or why I was always tired. Those days are gone (well, not the tired, that’s totes present in my day to day life, especially because I’m giving up caffeine for thirty days to help improve my eating habits). This improves mental wellness. I haven’t had a panic attack in 19 months. The events that used to cripple me were bumps in the road & my persistent optimism remained. These things improve my professional life; my job performance improves, I never call in sick (well, except today, except I’m not the one that is sick) and my writing has been pretty solid. All of these things help me live out my potential and fufill my purpose. A few changes and the right frame of mind goes a long way. You can do it too. There is no limit to what a human being can accomplish if they just try. You can be extraordinary and you can find your purpose and live out your dreams.

quotes-find-path-barbara-myerhoff-600x411

Where I Come From

Lately, it feels like I’ve been so busy, I can barely keep up with my own life. 

Of course, that’s kind of what happens when you find yourself juggling a lot of things; a 67 hour work week, crossfit, yoga, raising my family and researching my latest article with my new media company (I’m actually writing for two different magazines under the same banner, which is a lot of fun. I always wanted to get into a company where I could “flip” from one project to the next, and grow as a writer). I’m not writing entertainment pieces; I’m writing stuff that means something. I’m writing about people, about current events, about things that actually matter. It’s been so rewarding and literally everything I could ever want, aside from maybe getting to do this full time. But it’s a start, it’s a foot in the door, which is super rad. This current position has the potential to lead to so many amazing journalistic opportunities for me, and now I can even (sort of) legally drive! How cool is that kids? 

 However, there is one teensy, beensy, little snag. It’s still on the other side of the country. And I’m still no closer to any kind of decision. Why? BECAUSE I CAN’T EVEN COMMIT TO A TV SHOW FOR A FULL SEASON, HOW DO YOU WANT ME TO MAKE A MAJOR LIFE CHOICE OF ANY KIND?

This is my confused face. Actually, this is my resting bitch face, so my every day face

I haven’t really talked to any of my inner circle about this, and when I do, I’m non-committal and flip. Most people are opposed or are also non-committal and flip. How does one pack up their lives and their kids and find a job and lodgings and get said stuff to said place and literally start their lives over (Yes, I’m well aware that I did it last year, but then I had a job that I brought with me and it was only two hours away), even if it for almost everything you’ve ever wanted. I think about what a disaster this move turned out to be, with the kids hating their school and not liking the city we live in and the bullying issues and I worry that this could be a disaster for them too. Then I remember how much of a pain even moving here was and my hippie friend reminding me that when one runs away from something, the universe won’t let you, because it will find you, because no matter how many times you run from something, the universe will put what is meant to be where it is meant to be. I don’t believe that, but this would be me going towards something; a goal, something I have wanted since I was eight. This would be a much better example for the girls (I think) and if Hippie friend is right, then the energy would be better…I think. 

 But then I think about my daughters and their relationship with their dad. He’s barely present now, would he check out completely if we moved (so far my best friend says “yes”). I know I said I wouldn’t concern myself with him or his lackadaisical parenting, but I do have to concern myself with my daughters and their psychological well being. They’ve already felt abandoned by his failure to call, failure to text, half assed visits, etc. If we move and he checks out of their lives completely, which most assume he will, that’ll be on my head. I’ll have severed their relationship with their dad. Do I want to be the one who did that? 

 There’s also that the cost of living is higher. I just started at my job and they generally don’t approve transfers for a year. I don’t really know how to cross country house hunt. I pretty much have no idea where to start. 

However, my landlord has set a timeline for me without meaning to. He wants me to renew my lease at the end of the month. Obviously, I’ll need to either renew and stop freelancing, or go on the big adventure and finally get almost everything I’ve ever wanted. 

My friend Reiva says I should just do it. I deserve the adventure, and I’m damn good at what I do. The girls will thank me for giving them the opportunity to do more than just stay in one place, and that my weird, gypsy spirit, the one that rests in the heart of this eternal optimist & hungers to move mountains and achieve all of my dreams, even though life should have beaten them out of me by now will be happy because I finally showed my girls that if you work hard, be kind & love everyone, you can do anything, but most of all you’ll be happy. 

And the one thing I have been this past month is happy. I love my new jobs; I feel valuable and like an important part of the team. Maybe I’m afraid of finding a new job and ending up back in the place I was back in January, hating my job, dreading when I go to work and feeling so miserable when I go home because I was drained. I’m busier than ever, but I love where I work. I have great coworkers and bosses. As for my media job, I can’t stress enough how happy that makes me. I love learning about the people I’m interviewing and telling their stories and helping people get to know people in their community that are incredible and have accomplished so many great things…and most of their neighbours just see them as a regular person! It’s amazing and it’s everything I’ve ever wanted to do as a writer…and there are so many opportunities if I would just make up my damn mind…

…which I’ll do eventually, right? If not, I’m open to outsourcing my major life choices. Maybe Erica can take this one, she’s seen first hand the messes I can make. If not, maybe someone can email me an action plan? Help.

 

indecision

Ignition & Friction

Sometimes I go on social media and the things that I read really grinds my gears.

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Over the last few weeks, I’ve been seeing a lot of posts regarding Rania El-Alloul, who was told by a judge that her court case would not be heard unless she removed her hijab, contradicting a previous Supreme Court ruling. On the heels of this, Prime Minister Stephen Harper called the hijab, niqab, and the burka “anti-woman” (earning the mockery of Twitter), & I saw a lot of amazeballs comments on my newsfeed, such as;

“Good. You come to our country, you follow our ways.”

“If you don’t like our rules, go back to your country. We don’t need you here.”

And other fantastic gems that make me ashamed that I live in the same city as these people, let alone were once on my social media feeds. It all makes me really angry and sick that we’re becoming THAT kind of society, where we think that our country is some kind of melting pot or Star Trek Borg assimilation. Because we aren’t.

Canada is a cultural mosaic that was built with Native Canadians and Immigrants working together to create a nation that values peace, goodwill and the retention of cultural identity. We have a Charter of Rights and Freedoms and a Multiculrualism Act that encourage those who come to our nation to practice their religion and maintain their culture if they see fit. This is part of the Canadian identity. We do not tell people to “join us or get out.” If you have done that, you are not exhibiting the Canadian spirit and should be ashamed of yourselves.

I also do not get the idea that we as “Native Canadians” get to tell new Canadians to follow our rules or get out, considering we our ancestors didn’t do that when we got here. In fact, I’m pretty sure that we told the First Nations to do what we said or get smallpoxed. As time passed, Native children were put in residential schools, where all sorts of atrocities were committed against the children. That certainly doesn’t sound like our ancestors came to Canada and instantly adopted the traditions and rules of the Native Canadians. In fact, it sounds more like we forced our way of life on them and destroyed their way of life until they assimiliated. You know, what we’re suggesting we do now. So, unless you are part of the First Nations, I don’t think you really get to tell a new Canadian what to wear, because once upon a time, your family was a New Canadian. They kept their religion, their heritage and their rights to retain those things. Why can’t new Canadians in 2015 do the same thing?

To me, the hijab, the niqab and the burka just like anything else in this world; if you don’t agree, don’t wear one. If a muslim woman chooses to wear one in accordance with her religion, then she can. Just like no one should stop you from wearing a cross, a star of David or any other religious symbol, you shouldn’t tell someone else what they can wear it on your head. Also, please stop comparing it to a baseball cap. These are garments designed to protect modesty in accordance with guidelines set in the Quran, the other is a symbol to cheer for your favourite team. I would NEVER view my New Orleans Saints snapback in the same capacity as my mother’s rosary beads, so I don’t see how anyone else could make the comparison.

Let’s stop with these comments. Let people worship freely as our laws and Charter dictate we should. After all, you shouldn’t get the right to wear what you want just because you happened to be born here. If that were the case, then please find the nearest person who is a member of the First Nations and ask them what we should be wearing, because they are the only people who’s family didn’t come here from another nation hoping for freedom to choose where to work, how to live and yes, what to wear.