I hope everyone updated their address books, as there is no more ASH Multimedia. You’re probably wondering “why the name change MHC?” Part of it is for reasons that I do not care to discuss. The other is simple; the name no longer fit the story that I was telling. There isn’t really a multimedia component, as my photography skills are average at best, unless it’s something basic white girly, and that name was chosen as a joint venture with my ex husband. While I’ve always tried to brand it, I’ve realized what I’ve actually branded is me. It’s my story, my terms, my way. Why not have the name reflect that?!
See? I kick ass at this type of photography!
I’m still not 100% comfortable continuing my story here right now, for reasons I’m not really okay sharing with anyone right now (except my dearest ones, they know), but the sixth anniversary of my online home this week and I wanted to acknowledge it. Normally, I’d impart some kind of mind blowing knowledge, but I have none. Sorry.
I do know that this year started off with my greatest nightmare coming to life, and I turned that into achieving the dream I’ve had since I was eight years old. Since I was a little girl, all I wanted to do was publish an article in a newspaper and I mother effing did it. Yes, I’ve published over 200 magazine articles, but being a news reporter was the goal. When we pulled up my transcripts, we found magazine writing was my weakest subject. Newspaper reporter, that was the goal. AND I DID IT ALL ON MY OWN.
To the rest of the world, it’s just an article in a newspaper, but to me, it’s everything I’ve worked for since I was a kid. I didn’t give up. I kept trying. I owed it to eight year old Mary-Helen, who tirelessly made newspapers for the neighbours out of lined paper to make this happen. And I did. I intend for it to be the first of many. But even if it’s one and done, I did it. My name is sitting there on a byline on a Postmedia newspaper. That means more to me than anything else in the whole wide world. That’s what I did this year. I accomplished the only thing I’ve ever wanted since I was eight years old.
I’ll never be able to adequately explain how that felt for me, but someone else did it for me & that is Sasha Banks. Head on over to YouTube and look up Sasha Banks wins the Women’s Championship (or click here). Just like I owed it to eight year old Mary-Helen, she owed it to 10 year old Mercedes to keep going. And she did it. I guess, if I had knowledge, I would say just keep going. Keep trying. Remember who little you wanted to be & make them proud. Be the good person little you was, before the world’s harshness sucked it out of you. Keep going even when the road is cold & bleak & you’ve never felt more alone. When your heart is broken & you are utterly defeated, get up. Try again. Turn your nightmares into everything you ever wanted.
The name may have changed, but the format has stayed the same. Song titles for titles. Positive life affirmations. Same dorky woman trying to be better than yesterday. And in the end, if all I ever become is Mary-Helen, the woman who is too nice, forgives too often, loves too much, and believes all humans are good and deserve one more chance, but most importantly, does not quit on her kids, her goals or herself, then I win.
The moral of the story is that in a world of Kardashians, I choose to be Mary-Helen.
Sometimes I get days off. And after spending time with my kids & crossfit, I hang out by a lake by my house and read books & think about stuff.
Tonight, I spent my night FINALLY reading Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, because nerd. I like to sit among rocks & trees & read and enjoy nature. As a kid, I used to go to Bible Camp & read my Bible in the woods (fun fact, my oldest daughter was named after the place I went to Bible Camp). I’ll get more of this because my schedule has changed & I now get weekends off. Yup, normal Monday to Friday. I like being around nature because it’s a calm, peaceful place. Birds & trees are silent, and anyone near you is minding their own business. And no one is paying attention to you.
Because of my personality, I’m often thought to love attention. This is not true. I hate it. I feel uncomfortable when eyes are on me. It makes me nervous like I’m in a spelling bee & my nose is bleeding & I pissed my pants and the word is “superfilous” (the choice of word stems from when I was visiting back home & we were having a shark party & my best friend & I decided I would tweet anything that we said. So we decided to take a random word & add “choking on dicks” to it. Superfilous means “unnecessary,” so this sentence was actually accurate. We laughed. We were extremely drunk. I drink once a year. This is why). I hate when people stare at me or when I’m forced to be in the centre of attention. When I used to perform, my hands shook. I do presentations at work because I have to, not because I enjoy it. I think that’s why I started writing. I get to tell stories. I’m not the subject. I’m the narrator. People don’t read something I wrote & think about me, they think “hey! That play sounded good!” Or “that person seems interesting!” It’s not about me. Even this blog about my life isn’t necessarily to be about me. It’s more about learning lessons & evolving, something all humans do. To most of you, I’m a faceless weirdo. But then, there are some of you who know me better than anyone, and those are the people I struggle with talking about why I hate being stared at or watched or whatever.
This isn’t an idea that I share to my social media feeds. I never share my super personal stuff there. That’s like showing weakness or something. People will think I have feelings or some shit. This is for the like four people that read my blog with any regularity. So, Erica & like, three other people. I used to know who they were, but I’ve turned that privilege over to a close friend who monitors my web security for me (that person is not Erica). It’s actually nice to be able to write whatever I want without worrying if I’d offend anyone, because I knew who was reading it. Erica always says that the people whom I might offend are soulless creatures anyway, human poison who prides themselves on hurting me for kicks. That their only purpose is to hurt me as often and as painfully as possible for their own amusement because they are sick fuckers & who cares if I offend them, but I’m not really one for offending people. I like making people happy. It brings me great happiness to bring joy to others. All I want to is to love everyone & be a good mom & a good person & write happy shit and make people smile. I used to write things with a password just to make one human smile. I wanted to be able to use my one talent to reach them & help them communicate with people so they wouldn’t run away from things & return, repent, repeat. But, I never could. So, I waved my little white flag. Cut off all communication because I’m beyond tired of being shut out & stonewalled. It’s bullshit & it’s not how you treat people. Now all I care about is being a good person & mom & writer. News stories don’t touch you; they inform. I write now to inform, not make you think or touch your soul or break down invisible barriers. My blog, just me sharing my life. Not even interesting.
But there’s always this nagging feeling that I cannot prove one way or the other that people use my blog to observe my life without being in it & that has always hurt me.
Yes, you read that right. IT HURTS ME.
Why MH? Why would that hurt you? Because I feel like I’m in my own twisted version of the Truman Show. I hate this feeling like I’m not worthy to be part of someone’s life, but it’s fine to observe me like your favourite character on a teen drama like One Tree Hill or some shit. It makes me feel subhuman. It chips away at my self esteem to know you’re good enough to watch like a TV character, but not good enough to speak to, have in your life. And when I feel like this is the case, I get really sad & feel very small.
So, I’m left with this weird dilemma. I could stop blogging. That would make the most sense. Give up writing, the thing I love most to help keep people away from me. And what does that leave me with? Nothing, I guess. Erica says that’s what bad people want, to take everything from me until I have nothing. But of course, I’ll never have nothing. I’m pretty much the most blessed person I know. Great kids, great job. Amazing freelancing gigs, so I’ll always be writing, just not here. Bad ass Texan friend. All good things. Sometimes I look at my incredible life & get excited to share it with people, which is why blogging has become an intrical part of who I am. It’s how I sort out my thoughts to build a better life for myself & my family. It’s how I scratch my creative itch. But even more importantly, I look st my life & I am so freaking grateful. I’m living my dream life and I built my dream life all by myself! Isn’t that the freaking coolest?! And I write because I’m so happy that I get to be the one to live this incredible life. However, I guess the Truman Show viewers bother me because those are the people I’d rather have in my life, but aren’t. And I’m not Truman Burbank; I’m an actual human & you shouldn’t get to view my life if you left it (or in some cases, I asked you to leave it).
This brings me to my point; maybe to remove myself from the Truman Show, Truman needs to close the bubble.
Erica reminds me that it’s not fair for me to continually sacrifice my joy so that people who cannot muster the bravery to be in my life can be viewers of the Truman Show. She rants & raves about selfishness, cowardice, etc. She’d say maybe the people who use my blog as the Truman Show should just go rebuild the bridge that they burned because they obviously need me…& a therapist. But I don’t make things easy. I build walls because people hurt me. Writing is how I try to let them down. But letting people who hurt me near me? Nope. Terrifying. Worse than geese. Nope. My success rate at reaching people is 0% (which makes me question my abilities to write anything but news, as I’ve never emotionally connected to anyone). Not putting myself through that. One of my closest friends suggested that I start letting those walls down, and I balked. Walls keep us safe. Besides, why is it always me who has to make the first step when there’s conflict? Why is it always me who has to extend the olive branch, to try? If they wanted to find me, they would. They don’t. I’m tired of luring out scared bunnies. It’s tiring.
Not this guy though. He’s good people.
Maybe it’s because for so long, I was told my blog was the way to get back in after people hurt me, that I’m reading too much into nothing but my gut instinct. I’ve been known to do that. But maybe I need to step back from sharing my life. Cancel the Truman Show.
I wouldn’t even know what to say to reach out to nothing. Please just talk to me & stop hurting me? Don’t put me through this anymore, just talk to me? I love my blog, please don’t force me to shut it down, just please reach out & speak to me? I’ve always been one for many chances & I would give as many as needed & I could explain why I’m not even mad anymore. But I already did that in something only one person on Earth can read. But I know if I did that, I’d be talking to a wall. Maybe I’m not the only one who builds walls. Or maybe this time I built them too high. So I guess I’ll just be bidding you good afternoon, good evening, and good night.
Over the last few months, I haven’t had much faith in humanity. Mostly, because humanity hasn’t given me much to have faith in.
It all started about three months ago, when some teen girls tried to rob my teenage daughter. Suddenly, I didn’t feel as safe in my neighbourhood. Then, I was blindsided and abandoned, subjected to some of the most manipulative mind games & cruelty from a man who claimed two days earlier that he loved me & to remind me of a conversation we were having once we were married, because he couldn’t wait to marry me. Fast forward to 48 hours later, when I woke up extra early for my long commute to get ready for a date we had planned for when my shift was over. 48 hours earlier, he told me he couldn’t wait for date night. I was so excited to finally have time alone with him without work, as I was beyond over work taking over our romance…only to find he erased me from his life, and a cold text saying he was angry & if I gave him space & a little time & did what he said, everything would be fine. I began obeying his commands, both stated and unstated. I felt like a dog, like I was being punished. And nothing I did made it better. He still wouldn’t talk to me. I apologized for what he said was bothering him, because I am a firm believer in owning your shit, I offered to take steps to resolve the slight, even transferred at my job to help give space, but not a word. I’m not perfect, but no one deserves this treatment. I used to believe he could never hurt me. But it was like the man I love; the kind, gentle, man who sought me out & begged for my affection & loved me so much died and a monster stole his face. It shattered me in ways that I still haven’t really recovered from, and sometimes I’m afraid I never will. I refuse to be a victim, I knew better but I wanted to believe he had changed & would allow us to communicate when he was angry. Bad shit happens, you get up, you kick ass. But it leaves scars. Horrible scars. I don’t know if I’ll ever trust another man again, as I am absolutely terrified of this man I loved. I built up huge walls to keep him away from me, as well as anyone else.
When I build a wall, I make sure its impenetrable. I also have thirty people blocked on Twitter. And emails. I also block your personal, work & even some coworker’s phone numbers. I don’t playSometimes I’m still in denial, like there is no way this man that swore I knew him best could do this. He couldn’t be this hateful. I keep thinking he’ll want to fix it like before, but the thought of him coming near me actually terrifies me, something it never did before (even though he would never harm me). And sometimes, while my friends, therapist, all insist he is emotionally abusive (sending me article after article to back it up), I still squeak out tiny defenses. He’s not mean. He just can’t do anger. I bet he feels badly & just doesn’t know how to come tell me. They ask me how he’d feel if someone treated his daughter as he treated me, because he’s teaching her that this is okay & I still try to defend him. Sometimes at night, I still cry confused tears because I literally just don’t understand how a man went from holding me and telling me that I was the love of his life to never speaking to me ever again in 48 hours & was seemingly proud of destroying my heart & self esteem while I sobbed on his voice mail to please just talk to me. How did we go from looking up engagement rings on New Years Day to feeling like I needed to change everything about me (even though I didn’t want to) just so he’d speak to me. I would delete blogs after minutes for fear of offending him. I would have done anything just for him to talk to me & I still just want him to talk to me, even though I know I deserve a man who would never dream of treating a woman this shamefully. But I still sometimes feel worthless because he won’t talk to me & even though I’m terrified to let him near me, I just want him to fix it like he said he always would. But I don’t ever want to be a woman who meekly kowtows to a man. That is NOT who I am not who I will EVER be. I don’t want to be controlled. So I move forward, focused on being the most bad ass MHC I can be. And despite how harsh this may sound, I don’t believe he’s a bad person. I think he’s a good person who struggles with anger management and commitment & conflict. He made some very poor choices & they are on his conscience, not mine.
A few weeks later, I was robbed, my purse stolen from my workplace. I lost all of my ID and I’m still trying to get it all back. The whole experience left me reeling, I had just transferred and now I didn’t trust my own coworkers. The mall security didn’t help. I have little faith in the police. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly feel safe at work or walking home from work. I feel violated and I look over my shoulder a lot. But I focus on the good things I have; my family, my health, crossfit. My amazing friends who rallied around me during those tough few weeks, including a really cool coworker who became my bodyguard & protector. My super cool therapist. So many awesome people who made this whole experience bearable. By focusing on the good, I could get through the bad. I have so many good things. I am lucky to have these things. I am happy.
(This isn’t a pity me trip. Bad shit happens every day, you get up & keep on going. But I just talked about why we need to be our authentic selves. That means I need to be able to talk about the times life kicked me in the metaphorical balls. It just sometimes takes me a bit, until some of the hurt subsides.)
This isn’t all of you, but you know who you areBut to say it didn’t make me question my faith that people were essentially good would be wrong. It did. I didn’t trust anyone. At one point, after a particularly cruel trick he played,where he messaged Erica claiming he wanted to talk to me, which never happened, I almost stopped trusting Erica & shut her out for a few days, even though she’s the most important person in my life. I shut out everyone for awhile, except for those good friends who forced me to talk. I stopped writing, I had nothing to say. I felt like everything I had believed about humanity was wrong. People aren’t good. I watched people get busted for shoplifting many times a day, road rage assaults, murders on the news & my neighbours got robbed.My house got egged. And I waited for a conversation that I was told he wanted until I realized it was just another manipulation to keep me hanging on to nothing. Everything I had ever staked my beliefs on felt wrong.
Then, little things happened to help me see that most people are good & not to let some bad apples spoil that. My girls & I started attending a new church here in the city. We were welcomed with open arms. My teenager attends youth group. She’s learning and growing. The pastor drove her home because it rained. Suddenly, we felt like part of the community. My district manager, who did everything she could to make my work life tolerable, pulled me aside on one particularly trying day and said “I sought you out to hire you because you are a strong, talented, energetic, genuinely kind hearted person. If he can’t see your value, then he’s missing out.” My new manager did all he could to make me feel welcome. He’s been great fun to work with. My teenager’s teacher went above and beyond to help her with math. My coworker drive me home after working 15 hours. And when my cat went missing this past week, my neighbours formed a search party to help me find my beloved kitty. Each day, something new happened that helped me see that people are good.
If you live in Edmonton, keep an eye out for PeachyEach day, I saw a little more kindness from people. The cab driver that didn’t charge me because I looked tired. The coworker who gave me a hug because I was so drained I burst into tears at work. The crossfit coach who called me the day after a hard class to check on my hip. The stranger who walked an old lady down the street. The principal who consoled my nine year old when she got sick at school. All restoring my faith in humans. How could you not have faith in the planet with so many cool people around?!
Finally, this weekend, I saw how truly good people could be. After a forest fire displaced many of my fellow Albertans, I saw kids with lemonade stands. People paying for the groceries of the person behind them. A man donating $200 to Red Cross. The same people who were cussing each other out in the street were helping each other. WWE Superstars Kevin Owens & Tyler Breeze created a GoFundMe to help bring people together to raise funds during their personal time (Mr. Owens once did an amazing thing for my daughters during a WWE Live Event last year, so I already knew he was a great guy). And my dearest Bree reminded me that humanity is good, I just need to remember where to look.
This is the wisest person that I knowIt shouldn’t take a tragedy to bring out the best in humanity. We should all aspire to be good to each other every single day. And we also need to not lose sight of the good things people do for us, who’s there for us, the random strangers who have your back. Don’t lose sight of them because of a few bad people. Don’t let the bad people of the world take away your belief in humanity. People are good if you believe they are good. And even if they aren’t, be a good person because it costs you absolutely nothing to be a good person, but you will gain so much from it.
Humans ARE good. Yes, some are bad. Some are good, they just do dumb things. But you’ve gotta look around & see the good. It’s there; you’ve just gotta make sure you see it…and live it.
Last night, a dear friend of mine showed us her “truth” on our Mommy group. It was an honest statement about how sometimes it feels like she’s the only one who doesn’t have her shit together because on Facebook, everyone has their shit together. Oh Lordy, let me tell you, that’s a big nope.
It’s funny, because it came on the heels of a trip I made to my daughters’ school for a Mother’s Day event & some of the moms were so over the top about their perfect lives while I sat in my work uniform & live texted my best friend & the other “bad moms” sat on a bench beside me. It was a lot of Zumba & freezer meals & Chevy Tahoes & hubbys that work late and vacays to Spain & getting a blow out before attending an event for fourth graders. I can’t imagine how exhausting it is to be “on” all of the time.
I’ve often mentioned how much I hate social media, despite having a lot of it. I actually cut off quite a bit of it, leaving only my Instagram, Twitter & Facebook. The rest I use to rant about TV or post positive happy shit, because I figure if I have a platform to connect with people, I should use it to help encourage and build up others. I find my life is much more peaceful without the need to share my every move with the universe. I like my privacy. But I also want to be my most authentic self, which means admitting I do NOT have my shit together.
I don’t post everything on social media. I don’t talk about my personal life or my counselling sessions or the like. But I also do my best to keep my authentic self in a world of snapchat filters & Facebook highlight reels (I’m just as guilty, as my FB photo has a filter). Sometimes I feel like we live in a strange world of narcissism & masks. We all have carefully constructed personas. We have a Facebook life, a work life, a personal life, a parenting life, etc. and it made me wonder “Does anyone really know anyone anymore?” Or do we just know the masks we wear. I often wonder if we wear different masks around different sets of people. This way everyone will like us…well, not us. Our pretend character, our selfies, the lies we put out there to make sure everyone likes us.
I guess that’s the one thing I decided to drop a few years ago. I used to blog about abstract stuff that popped into my head, but I’ve tried to keep my world very authentic & honest. Masks are exhausting, I don’t want to remember what personality to put on today. I just wanna be MHC. So, I started writing about me; my victories, my struggles. My joy. Everything in real time. My FB became a series of honest observations about the world around me (& the odd humblebrag because sometimes I wanna be validated too. I’m human), my kids, my life. It may not be pretty, but it is honest. Not everyone needs to like it, but it’s who I want to be. Yes, my house is a mess that I do a huge clean up during my days off only to find it in the same condition when I get home the next day so I can repeat. I’m not a perfect mom. I’m not a perfect employee. I’m not a perfect friend or human…& I don’t want to be. I don’t want to wear masks or have personas. Maybe the reason I’m good at my jobs in retail & media is because I don’t want to be a pretend human. I just want to be me & relate to people on a human level.
Maybe the soccer moms were living their authentic lives. Maybe some people on Facebook really do have perfect lives & fairy tale marriages & spotless homes & the like. And I’m so happy for you if you do…but I don’t. And I’m not going to pretend I do. The world would be a better place if we chose to focus on how we treat people, not how we appear to people. Reputation only goes so far, but your character is what really matters & no amount of “likes” or carefully constructed personalities will make you a better person.
Maybe it’s time we ditch the filters, the shares, the prayers for (insert disaster here), the “work voice,” the different personalities & just be human beings. Maybe not everyone will like us. Maybe that’s okay. The people who matter will love us, which is much better than a thumbs up or an emoji or a replay of a snap from someone we don’t really like anyway.
About 2.5 months ago, something happened that changed my life a little bit. I’ve addressed it briefly in bits & pieces, but now it’s time to discuss the elephant in the room.
I have arthritis & I’ve fallen off the fitness wagon. Completely.
The gym used to be part of my every day life. Now it’s sporadic at best. I haven’t been in almost a month. The holidays & commute threw me off & now it’s fear. Fear of damaging my hips further. Fear of injury. Fear of crossfit. But part of who I am is fitness. I gained 15lbs at my old store. And it’s bothered me. The new gym hasn’t been as welcoming as WLCF. It’s cold & running in the cold scares me. I’ve got a ton of excuses, but not enough motivation. And working near the chips isn’t helping. I asked my friend to send me a pic of his disapproving face to help me get back on track.
I’ve been so mad at my body for betraying me. I’m good to it! I feed it kale! I exercise, cut out most processed junk, etc. Of course, that’s been for two years. Most of my adult life was eating shit food & wondering why I was depressed. Lack of exercise & lots of junk food. Our bodies crave real food, not chemicals, soda & alcohol. The more we put this in our bodies, the sicker & more depressed we get. I’ve felt like shit because I’m eating like shit. So, imma gonna stop eating like shit. I need to stop being afraid of pain and go through it so my hips will get stronger & hurt less. I’ve never been afraid of anything. But permanent injury freaks me out. Who will work? Who will raise the girls? It’s us vs. the World.
So I flipped the script. Who’s gonna take care of the girls if I have a heart attack because of Doritos? Who’s gonna work if my hips get so sore that I can’t stand? Who’s gonna take care of me if I don’t? You’ve gotta love yourself to do the right things for your body. To be a good parent, you’ve gotta set the right examples. So I’m gonna get up and go to the gym. I’m gonna go running (you can view my results on Twitter lol). I’m gonna eat kale. And my body will thank me.
I have always stressed that I am a happy person & will always be a happy person, regardless of the situation around me. I pride myself on it. Life can throw its worst at me & I will just smile & carry on. Why? Because things don’t make us happy. People can enhance our happiness, but we can only be truly happy if we love ourselves & our situation. Regardless of what happens, I love my life. I have wonderful children, great friends, I’m good at my job. I love crossfit. I’m a pretty okay writer. I’m smart & even kind of pretty. No matter what happens, I look in the mirror & love the woman I’ve become & that is what matters the most in this life.
And sometimes, life likes to fucking test me.
When I switched workplaces to improve my life, I was told the place was a little more rough around the edges. But I didn’t care. I needed to do what was best for my family. Sacrifices and stuff. And it’s all been very positive…UNTIL SOMEONE STOLE MY PURSE AND EVERYTHING IN IT.
Yup, my passport (which was left in there from my trip to the Registry to get my license), SIN card, Alberta health cards for my youngest daughter & myself, credit cards, etc. ALL GONE. So yesterday I spent the day getting all of it replaced. I’ll get my passport replaced next week, my license too. And it will be a bitch. Thanks to some of my rad Twitter peeps, I learned that this is common & has happened to many people, so I don’t feel completely stupid.
I was angry; at the security guards ambivalence, at the crackhead who stole it, I mean, I hope my $200 in Olive Garden gift cards & $8 in cash was worth it. Oh, and JOKE IS ON YOU, MY CREDIT IS AWFUL. GOOD LUCK FRAUDING ME. But, I realized it’s just not worth being angry over. I could feel violated, victimized, but that’s not who I am. I choose to be patient & kind & not get angry over shit that I can’t control. That’s who I used to be. Current MHC chooses to focus on positives. I’m sure you’re thinking “like what?” Well, I needed to renew my passport anyway. I just did it early. And honestly, if someone is so desperate as to rob me, then clearly they need help. Maybe getting arrested will get if for them. But I’m never getting my purse back. It’s not worth getting bitter about. There is nothing in life worth sacrificing the best of who I am. In 60 years when I’m an old woman, will this incident matter? Probably not. So, I will learn from it & become smarter.
And also, I got a super cute new bag. So win.
LOOK AT HOW CUTE THIS BAG IS
When you feel victimized, you’re giving the bad people power over you. I won’t allow anyone to have power over me but me. I control my happiness & my destiny & I refuse to let any bad thing or bad person take away the best of me. I want to be a nice person who is loving, forgiving & kind. No crackhead needing a fix will take that from me. I’ll just continue to be nice & kick ass at life. So there.
So, to the asshole that stole my purse. I hope my $8 and Olive Garden gift cards was worth it. I hope you enjoy my Coach bag. It’s kind of old and I was hoping to replace it. But you have to live with your actions; I do not. Enjoy your guilt, as I will let you keep that, along with my things. If you cannot live with it, then I hope you turn yourself in & accept the consequences of what you have done.
Until then, I’ll just get my stuff back & kick ass at everything, because that’s what MHC does best.
I’ve enjoyed my respite, but it’s time for me to do what I do best; write happy shit.
I guess I should clarify why I took my downtime. My commute had me exhausted, I felt like I had overexposed my life like a Kim Kardashian nude selfie & I honestly just wanted a few weeks to do some yoga, hang out @ home & reacquaint myself with MHC.
Sometimes I feel like I share too much of myself. I’m a very loving & open person & I just want to love everybody. I want to be nice to people. I want to love my girls, my friends, the people I love, even my cat. And I always want to share my happiness with everyone because I assume they are also super happy. That gets me into trouble, as there is always that one or two miserable people who make everything ugly in an attempt to bring you down to their level of misery. I won’t allow it though. My happiness doesn’t come from people or jobs or possessions. It comes from a conscious choice that I make to be happy, simply because I can. You cannot take my joy, as I create it myself. You cannot ruin someone’s happiness when it can be found in her children, writing, Heavenly Hash ice cream, nature, cute puppies, hot baths, and the ability to change a day with a smile.
My reputation means little to me; my character does. I don’t let gossip or public perception skew me. I would rather focus my attention on being loving, kind, forgiving & compassionate. Those who know best know who I am & who I aspire to be. I won’t let anyone take that from me.
I also hate attention except from my kids & like one other person. I would make a terrible celebrity. I hate when people talk about me when I’m not around or stare at me. When people do that, watch me from afar but don’t talk to me, it makes me feel unnerved. I figure if you’re watching me or talking about me, you should come and talk to me, say hi! I don’t even understand why I’d be interesting enough to talk about & I feel like some kind of test subject & it makes me self conscious. Like, I write about my life, but I’m a faceless weirdo to most people. I think I’m the only extroverted person who literally hates attention from strangers or large groups. But during this period, I realized how few people are like me & just want to he happy & love everyone & how much of that unwanted attention I bring on myself by trusting everyone, including the wrong people & sharing so much of myself. I will never stop being kind, patient, understanding & when the world feels dark, it’s important to me to say that I will not allow it to sap my strength & tenacity, my belief in humans & my determination to be kind, understanding & loving, even if no one else is. So, when I feel any kind of edge to me, I decide to retreat so I can retain the best of me.
I give so much of myself to the people in this life that I love that I forget to love myself sometimes. I devote so much of who I am to trying to make everyone happy that I end up forgetting to love myself! So I decided to pull myself out of that by kind of internalizing stuff. I didn’t tweet much. I ditched like 60% of my social media & downsized the rest. I kept Instagram, Facebook & Twitter, but posted very rarely. I kept my life to myself, save for my nearest & dearest. They knew about how I was adjusting to my new workplace (Someday I will write a damn book about what I see there hahaha), my kids, crossfit (& my distress at missing the open), and my joy that the Overlord & I each own a pair of Becky Lynch goggles. All of the most awesome things.
But I found that the more I kept my life to myself, the happier I was! I liked that my personal time & space was MINE. I liked not sharing it. I liked that if you wanted to know how I was, you needed to call or text me. And I learned that certain friends didn’t, despite my always being there for them. Nothing was wrong, but I’ve been checking in on them since I moved but I realized how one sided these friendships were. And it didn’t bother me. I don’t need that in my life. You wanna be around me? Make an effort.
But the big thing was that I was learning how important it is to maintain my privacy & not blindly trust everyone who seems friendly. It’s important that I create separation for myself, keep my personal life mine, maybe my whole life. That’s not to say that I won’t write about stuff sometimes, but I really enjoyed having that down time to really connect with myself & enjoy that if I was out with friends, or my kids, or even enjoying a cup of coffee by the lake, that was my time. I liked that people had to ask me what’s new because they didn’t read it on FB or Twitter. I felt like I was having real conversations with people again, like in the before time, before social media took over our lives.
I’m sorry that you’ll see fewer of my Instagram pics, or random Twitter musings, but I really like keeping my life to myself a little more. Maybe the last few weeks were a really good lesson in shut the fuck up. I don’t really see difficult weeks or situations that suck as bad things, I see them as super rad opportunities to evolve as a woman & learn to be a better woman, mom, daughter, sister, partner & friend. I like being able to turn situations I don’t like into super amazing ones (LIKE THE FACT THAT MY TRANSFER = I MAKE SO MUCH MONEY NOW. SO MUCH. IT IS SO STUPID AWESOME HOW MUCH MONEY I MAKE). But like I said, I always want to be a bubbly optimist. So, I needed to get some sleep, spend time listening to bomb ass music & enjoy being that bubbly optimist, as I’m the only MHC on Earth, and I kind of dig her.
Sometimes I reach a point where I need to withdraw from life for awhile.
Now is that time.
I’m emotionally exhausted & when I feel like that, the best thing I can do for myself is withdraw from everything; most social media (I ditched Snapchat, Pinterest & Tumblr, but Facebook & Twitter remain. I’m pretty sure that I’ll be the last Tweeter standing. I love it way too much), public blogging, all human beings (except Erica, she won’t let me) & just raise my girls, finish my transfer & start at my new store, go to crossfit, and go to counselling until I feel better. I don’t know how long that will take. I guess we’ll wait and see.
But I didn’t like the idea of going offline without writing something that isn’t positive & happy. That’s my mandate; always be happy, even when you’re sad. So, I turned to my musical spirit animal; Taylor Swift. After making history by becoming the first woman in history to win the Grammy for Album of the Year twice (I told y’all 1989 would win), Swift took to the stage to make a powerful speech that will inspire women for generations. I’d rather share her words than mine for awhile. I hope they inspire you too.
“As the first woman to win Album of the Year at the Grammys twice, I want to say to all the young women out there, there will be people along the way who will try to undercut your success, or take credit for your accomplishments or your fame. But if you just focus on the work, you will look around and you will know that it was you and the people who love you that put you there. That will be the greatest moment.”
Sometimes I realize how ill equipped I am to handle stress in this province of cows.
For the last two months, all of the things I came to use to overcome stress weren’t there. You can’t sit amongst nature when it’s nuclear winter. You can’t go to the gym & lift heavy when you can’t support your weight on one leg. I felt under a microscope at work. My identity was that I was someone else’s. I sometimes felt like I worked, raised the girls & slept. I want to do so much more than work, pay bills & sleep. I want to be a role model to my girls. I want to be a good friend. I want to be a capable partner who stands on her own two feet, and that my person can see that I want a life of my own, in charge of my own life, not just to be theirs, as that’s never what I want. I want to be physically & mentally strong. Without my normal stress relievers, I felt like I was burning out.
So, I talked to my friend Gleason, who reminded me of how good meditation can feel. I remember it for awhile, and then forget. Thanks to Sarah, I’ve discovered some great new music (Elle King!). And I even bought one of those adult colouring books. I laughed at them, but they do a lot to relieve stress. And of course, writing. Lately, I’ve worried about people reading too much into my blogging. I write whatever I’m thinking in the hopes to give myself clarity, not necessarily “this is what I want right now.” I just know I struggle with asserting myself, and with anything deep, so I write to avoid over thinking and self sabotage. But maybe I need to stop baring my soul so much. Maybe I need to be more guarded about my feelings. Maybe I need to stop assuming that people care when I open up & get personal with them.
Maybe I need to stop talking about that.
I am WAY too invested in Harry Potter.
In the end, I need to focus on dealing with my own stress levels & get through it on my own, for me. I chose to move away from my support system. I can’t rely on them. I need to remember who I am. I am a bad ass. Tomorrow is my first trip back to the gym after two months. It’ll be intimidating, and exciting. I got a chance to enjoy nature for the first time in forever. It was so nice to just have me, my music & fresh air. And if I get stressed at home, I’ll colour. I’ll work at work & continue to do well. All good things. And once again, I’ll feel like I’m kicking ass & taking names & setting a good example for the little ones that look up to me, which is what I want most in life. I love them & I want to set a better example for them. I want to grow because I love myself & want to evolve for me. For the first time in awhile, I’m focusing on my own needs so I can be a better woman. Sometimes I give so much to my girls & the people I love & my mom & my brother that I forget about me. I need to remember to nuture myself.
Part of adapting to a new life is learning that I can’t do things the old ways all of the time. I can’t always get around trees or lift heavy things. I may not always have friends to talk to. I’ve got to adapt. So, I’ve been learning to adapt & find ways to be a better mom, writer, friend, partner, and woman. Because that’s what life should be about; getting better, learning to be better, and treating people better. That’s all I want for myself; to set a better example & love better.
That’s all. Just sucked. Everyone I love had things to deal with. My life sort of fell apart & I don’t even know what’s happening with any of it. But I refuse to be made to feel like I cannot do the things that made me happy, so I’m gonna write about stuff that helps me smile & screw everything else.
Since I was little I’ve never handled anger well. I simper & cry & beg them to talk to me & I beg them to forgive me & I’m always the only one trying. Ew. First of all, I’m a legit bad ass. I may run out of bad ass, but there is always more. I’m the most beautiful, witty, funny, articulate, and patient person I know. Those who know me should feel blessed to have my love & friendship. I am a prize, not some snivelling wimp. Nope. But yet, I keep falling back into old patterns when people get mad at me, because I value people more than ego. But I need to be the woman I am; strong, bright, beautiful, I need to get mad. I need to know I can stand up for myself. I love who I am. I fought to become her. And those who say they love me love her. But I need to know that I can be myself & stand up for myself & be heard. I’m also not afraid to own my mistakes. If I fucked up, I’ll own it. Right now, I need to value my ego. And I need to focus on my health & well being. I matter. I matter a great deal. And I deserve to feel like I matter, even if it’s just to myself. So, I’ve decided that my life matters to me & I am going to start making it better.
The physical aspect is hard. I have to trust doctors. I have to wait. I can’t exercise. I have to stay in bed on my days off. This makes parenting a little challenging. But we are getting it done because I’m a bad ass.
The next was mental. I’m reclaiming control of my life. I’ve let too many people control it & I’m tired of walking on eggshells to please them. That’s not who I am. I need to be myself. I need to be able to get angry. I need to be able to assert myself & have that assertion respected. I need to be able to resolve conflict. So, I started resolving the number one conflict in my life.
My mom has been the major source of my stress. She’s negative, doesn’t like it here & her relationship with the girls is becoming emotionally abusive. My friends keep telling me how grumpy she is all of the time & the last straw was when she made my 8yo cry in front of her friends by saying she didn’t care of her beloved cat died. My mom wasn’t a loving mom to me as a kid, I ended up in a foster home for a reason. That reason is why I pick myself up when I’m sick to go to work. Why I cry at 3am. My daughters will know their mother’s strength, not her weaknesses. And I will not allow them to grow up around poison. So I told her when my lease was up, she was moving out & I would stand on my own. My daughters will grow up surrounded by joy alone. And I won’t let them feel hurt or slighted. Her negativity left me with a feeling of having no control in my life. I want to be in control of my home. So I took it back.
The next was I called about counselling. Clearly being here alone with only a handful of close companions has taken its toll on me. I felt like I was relying on my few friends to be my support system. I don’t want that. I want to be in control of my own happiness & I am. I saw a dog with a puffy tail. I’m so happy because I saw that puffy tailed dog. When I get back to the gym, I’ll set PR’s. But until then, I need an outlet to focus on retaining my independence. So I started counselling again. I don’t feel badly. I’m not ashamed. I want to be the kind of person I can be proud of. When you struggle, you ask for help or you destroy everyone & everything you love. I love my family. I want to be better for them. So, I’m going to retool myself to be better for them.
I will not be controlled, by my mom, by life, by anything. So, whenever I feel like someone or something is trying to control me, I will stand up & take steps to become stronger, more bad ass & the people who truly love me will love me for it, like my daughters, who get a better example to look up to.
The Misadventures of MHC 