Into the Nothing

I write about my life with pretty candid honesty.

I have a lot of people tell me that they relate to me. I’m not sure why people seem to relate to me. I think I’m an idiot. That’s not true; I think I’m brilliant. I’m strong. I’m beautiful. I’m determined & talented & sometimes funny. I’m witty & charming & I have a great gift in that I can show compassion to literally anyone, even those who have hurt me. But I’ve always talked about my life, my experiences & felt better about who I am.

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This time…I’ve said pretty much nothing. I’ve written stuff that I’ve deleted. I’ve written cathartic things for me. But I haven’t really said anything about my life to anyone. Not even Erica & she’s my person. She knows everything. But here we are.

I guess it’s because I’ve felt…nothing. I’m not shattered. I go to work. I go home. I go to the gym. I go home. I do yoga. I raise my family. I sleep. Repeat. I live my raddest life as I did before. I continue to get whatever I want in my professional life. I continue to succeed in my fitness goals & kick crossfit’s ass. Life did not stop. No, it kept going & I kept going & I did a damn good job. But I had nothing to say. Mainly because there’s nothing to say.

Actually, there’s lots to say. There’s the guilt I feel. I did a lousy thing to a very good person. Erica will comment underneath with an opposite stance, but that’s how I feel. I was a hypocrite. I did the thing that hurt me the most to a person I care most about in this world because I was mad. Then I was hurting because we don’t talk. Duh, we don’t talk because of ME. It’s not their job to talk to me, it’s my job to ask forgiveness! I miss a person I love very much. I didn’t count on missing them this much. I rationalized how long they weren’t in my life & I could do it again, no big! I was wrong. I just want to talk to them, hold them, be near them. When the general awesomeness that is my life happens & something amazing happens & I’m proud, I go to text them because I want them to be proud of me too. But, I can’t. Sometimes I just want to hear their voice…& I can’t. And that hollows me out even more. I keep feeling like this ending is the wrong one. Like, no world could be so cruel as to put something so wonderful back into my life just to have it snatched away & gone forever again. No human heart, even one of steel like mine can handle that blow. This didn’t have to be this way. Maybe one conversation could have turned it around, one I didn’t have because I was livid. But worst of all, I feel like I hurt someone who I abhor the thought of hurting. But I also don’t want to give anyone I know the satisfaction of knowing I am hurting. I am invincible, remember? No one hurts me! I’m an impenetrable force, which means nothing bothers me ever. I’m also not one to whine about things I cannot control. They ran, I acted like a stupid bitch & cut them out. This didn’t likely show them that they do need me. It just hurt…me.

There’s the damage in doing to my own psyche in the name of self preservation. Anyone who knows me knows that the silent treatment is (for me) the worst form of torture. Even if I elected the silence, it makes me sick. I’d rather have my fingers broken. Erica said that obviously my position was something I felt so strongly about that I was willing to put myself through my own personal form of Hell to prove it. But all I proved is what everyone told me for a year; I had become a different girl.

I thought if I kept people away from me, and pushed them away when they hurt me, I wouldn’t get hurt anymore. I thought if I moved far away from everyone, I’d be alone & no one could hurt me anymore. I had built up these huge walls so no one could hurt me anymore because I didn’t want anyone to be able to hurt me anymore. I had become so afraid of getting hurt that I was orchestrating my own hurt. I shut out anything that might hurt me because I was afraid. I didn’t want my beautiful heart to be hurt anymore by anyone. It had endured enough & I wouldn’t allow it. I wanted to be alone, so no one could ever damage me again. But I had lost the ability to work through things with compassion. I had lost my patience, my understanding. Literally everything I loved about myself was gone. Now I’ve lost the one thing I couldn’t bear to lose & the guilt & the feelings of cowardice bother me. I refuse to let them interfere with my beautiful life, so I do what I do best every day: thrive. I succeed. I put on my happiest face & I am fine.

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But, there’s also the tarnish on the shiny coin of my life; it doesn’t matter. I can’t shake that I don’t matter. I am not valuable. These words do not matter. They’re just words on a screen, of no value of importance to anyone, not even me. The feeling that you do not matter, nor are you missed by someone you miss tremendously should be skull crushing. But in the end, it feels like nothing. So, I didn’t write, because it felt like nothing, because I generally don’t feel particularly strongly enough about anything to write about. But I promised one of my dearest friends I would try, for if I had my heart’s greatest joy back, maybe I’d feel like myself again.

But in reality, I just want a phone call that can’t come through from a person who probably doesn’t miss me in the least & has never been known for bravery that I hid from because I’m a coward. And the fact that I brought all of this on myself so that I will never have that is the cruellest nothing of all.

You’re probably thinking “MHC, you are a boss ass bitch! If this is bothering you THIS much, stop being a huge effing baby & pick up the damn phone & call & talk & figure your shit out! What about trust your instincts, be brave, follow your heart?! Stop being such a God damn emo baby & take that step.” I know because that’s what I tell myself. It’s what I always tell everyone. But, I don’t know how to get past the fear; of rejection, of having my heart torn apart in a manner most cruel, or worse, the silence of getting voicemail, hearing a voice & knowing you won’t hear it again. I used to be very brave, then someone who’s opinion I valued said some very terrible things to me, claiming they laughed at me & I was a joke to them. This crushed my spirit in ways no one could ever understand. So, the very thought of putting myself out there made me panic. It terrifies me & I don’t think I’ll ever be able to adequately explain it. I want to call, but I’m afraid they won’t answer. I want to send an email, but I’m afraid of getting a cruel reply or worse, no reply. I want to unblock them on FB, but I’m afraid they’ll shut me out. I hold my phone & legitimately panic like I saw an army of geese because I’m so scared they won’t answer. So, I sit in the silence. I can’t let the walls down, because I might get hurt. I want to get past it. I don’t know how to get past it. I’d love for someone to tell me.

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The other one I hear is “MHC how many chances can you give someone to hurt you?” (This voice has a Texan accent) My answer; as many as they need. For I know how good they really are & what it’s like to be them. So, I want to be good to them & (irony alert) show them they have nothing to be afraid of if they would just let me into their life. Because that is the very core of who I am & I need to love myself above all else. So, I love that part of me & I never want to lose it. This goes for everyone; if you were once my friend & you need one, then I will be here for you. It doesn’t matter what you did. I’ll be there. I wouldn’t want to be any other kind of person.

So, there’s nothing. Just living. Succeeding. Being a good mom. But nothing all the same. But I do know I need to start facing my fears & letting people in, before I do more damage to my beautiful life. I’m just not sure how.

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Homesick

I haven’t had a good late night/early morning blog vent in awhile!

For the first time in the six months that I packed up & ran away, I’m actually homesick. Not even just a little homesick. Like I want to call someone at home & cry like a little kid at summer camp homesick.

I love my new home. I love that I’m surrounded by nature. I love my gym. I love the air & I love the city. But the more I invest in my writing again, the more my professional dissatisfaction at my regular job grows because I want to be writing full time. It was easy to love my johnny punch clock job when I wasn’t writing. But now that I’m in the field again, I’m growing more and more restless, because I want to be working in my field full time. I want to be on the front lines when things happen & ask questions & bring people news. I want so badly to write something that makes a difference in someone’s life & resonates with them & makes them think & grow. I have a talent & I want to use it to impact the world in a positive way. But then I feel guilty because I should be thankful that I have a job. After all, the unemployment rate is skyrocketing & I’m fortunate enough to have a job & I should be grateful, right? But truthfully, my job is a very fine job. They pay me well. They are good to me. But I think about how I wanted to bring people news that would make them think & ask questions & better their communities. Or I’d help people think so they’d become their best selves & happy. And I get so sad because I do none of those things. I sell people high priced luxury items. But I don’t want to be the person who’s aggressively selling phones to the waitress at dinner or all we talk about are how we’re going to sell more phones. I want a career that’s meaningful, that I’m proud of, where I make a difference in someone’s world, anyone’s. And I’m not doing that.

Also, the girls are getting bullied at their school. The angriest teen wants to go back to her friends. And I don’t blame her, because sometimes I’m lonely too. I miss my friends, who are like family to me. With the exception of one coworker & a couple of old classmates, I haven’t made a lot of friends yet & I find myself missing my Windsor people so. I feel like I spend a lot of time telling people that I miss them, mostly because I kind of hope that they miss me too & I just kind of want to hear it. That might sound stupid, but when you’re lonely, sometimes it’s nice to hear that someone wishes you were with them. It makes you feel like you’re important, that you matter. I’m a social person & I love company & I don’t have any. I spend most of my time alone & it’s kind of lonely. I used to pretend it didn’t bother me, because I was so bad ass, but sometimes I wish I could just call up someone for a last minute coffee after work. I love living alone. I love having my independence, but I miss my friends from home more than I’ve cared to admit & some nights I find myself missing my familiar skyline, the one I looked at every night for 13 years & meant home.

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But I know “going home” isn’t really an option, despite my friend Amanda telling me it’s a really great idea. Yes, I have friends, but the root issues are still the same, which is a lack of strong career prospects in my field, which is my only real dream. The punch clock job was supposed to be temporary until I found a media job. But then I stopped looking until I started at Cineklik & the excitement of working in my field as well as the support from those who know me best made me miss it all, more than I should. I just sometimes feel on an island alone with the girls. All of the people I love the most are hours away in Sarnia or Windsor & all of the places hiring in my field are hours away in the other direction in Toronto. And I’m in the middle, feeling very removed & alone.

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I hate to sound so negative, because running away was a really good plan, because I’ve learned so much so far. I’ve learned I can put myself in an unfamiliar situation & I can thrive. I learned that I can be on my own & I can handle stuff without anyone’s help, everything from dental surgery to getting lost & everything in between. All of these things have made me even more bad ass than I was before, because I can adapt to new & different situations better than I did before. There are so many good things that have come from this experience & I need to focus on all of them & not how not everything has gone perfectly.

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Truthfully though, it’s not the city I miss; it’s Saturday breakfasts with the legal assistant ladies. It’s going to dusty old bookstores with my favourite person in the world & last minute adventures with Rena & Amanda to 8 mile. It’s the people I miss & I miss them so. But I also know that part of life’s journey means being separated from our loved ones sometimes. I’ve learned which friendships will prevail through periods of absence & which won’t. I’ve learned that some affection can withstand ages apart, and once put back together, it can be wonderful. And I learned that I can survive on my own, which is a lesson I lose sight of when I do get homesick & just want to hear a friend’s voice or see their face because it’s comforting & makes me feel happy.

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Tomorrow I’ll feel better & I’ll make it a better day. Tomorrow I’ll focus on finding something to enjoy about where I live now. And I’ll remind myself that it’s okay to feel lonely, or sad. Not everything needs to be pretty or perfect all of the time. As long as you make an effort to make the next day a better one.

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Bad Blood

My teenage daughter is exactly like me.

Seriously.

She looks just like me, has my mannerisms, speech patterns, & even stands with her toe pointed like I do. She’s also really nice & it gets her into trouble.

She ran afoul of two teen girls who were torturing her friend, to the point where we had to call her parents because she had written a suicide note. My daughter went to teachers, parents, and even took these girls to task on her own. We may be nice, but we take no shit. Attack someone we care about & we go full Pitbull. These girls were already outraged because the object of their affection (whom is a pint sized predator) is smitten with my child. So, the cyber bullying began. We’d block them on her social media, they’d open a new account & begin again. We tightened the settings, they’d use a friend’s. I brought screencaps to school & told the parents. One mom took action, the other accused my child & I of being jealous of them. Uh. Okay.

Anywho, my daughter’s tale is just one of a million stories of bullying. They’re on the news all of the time. You see all of the adults commenting that it’s such a shame, those poor babies, where do they learn this…only to click to the next article to read them mocking a celebrity, calling her fat, ugly. The most disgusting thing I have ever seen was the comments on a beautiful article about Dan Diaz, the widower of late assisted suicide/death with dignity activist Brittany Maynard. This man lost his wife & we’re mocking him, claiming he hoped she’d take her own life so he could have a healthy wife, that he’s milking it (his wife has been dead for four days), etc. We’ve become a society so deplorable that we are mocking a man who will bury his beloved wife.

So, where do these little pukes learn this disgusting behaviour?

FROM YOU.

Yes, you. They learn it from you. Every time you take a shot on Miley Cyrus or Taylor Swift, or any other celebrity (this includes the time I called John Mayer the president of Doucheland), you are teaching your kids to bully & devalue human life. When you justify it by saying its a comment board & you don’t have to be nice, you are teaching children to defend bullying because the victim wore the wrong clothes or whatever. When you mock a woman’s appearance or cat call a woman, you’re teaching your child to objectify women. When you mock a man who’s mourning his wife, you’re teaching your child to devalue love, a marriage & that this man’s suffering means nothing. When Robin Williams passed in August, people tortured his daughter Zelda so relentlessly she had to leave social media. During a time when a human being needed the most love, we as a society ripped her heart out. Then we wonder why the next generation is a bunch of evil little shits. Because they learn it from you.

For years, I’ve been accused of being too nice. I’m always explaining myself & that’s okay. But the truth is that there are billions of hateful people in this world. They’re mean, heartless & cruel. There are billions of selfish bigots in this world. I do not wish to be one of them. I take flack for wanting to be the woman I want my daughters to be, because apparently that’s odd. But I am raising three beautiful & brilliant women. I want them to be strong & brave but also radiate compassion & Grace. So, I must do the same. I refuse to become the person who can’t find one thing in the world that makes the day amazing, even if it’s just that I saw a bunny & it was cute. I like who I am & I want to be the girl who is nice & gives as much as I can to others. I like being that woman because I need to teach my daughters how to spread love. I won’t take people’s cruelty lying down, but I will not spread misery & I hope this teaches my daughters the desire to spread love. I know other moms who feel the same way & I hope we can raise a generation of kids who are loving & not cruel.

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So, next time you sit behind a user name & take a shot on a random stranger, think about how you’d feel if it was your kid & a classmate. Think about if it was a classmate saying that to your kid. Think about if Miley Cyrus was saying that to you. After all, you’re a stranger to her as she is to you. Say she walked up to you & mocked your hair & your dog & your clothes & said she hoped you died of a drug overdose. Sounds ridiculous, right? Well, that’s what you sound like when you hide behind your user name & blast them…& you’re teaching the next generation that it’s okay.

Headphones

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

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

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

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

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

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

The truth is; we get the media we deserve.

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

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

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

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

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

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Shake It Off

Happy Birthday ASH Multimedia!

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

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

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

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

But that’s not my wisdom.

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

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

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

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It Takes Two

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

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

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

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

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

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I Almost Do

I don’t mind being single. I don’t mind living alone. In fact, I revel in it.

I’m kind of hermit like, and as I told my friend Steph, it’s because I have very little to contribute. People I know live exciting lives; I do a lot of yoga & sit-ups. That’s my life in a nutshell; work, raise family, yoga, run 5k, sit-ups. I find it rewarding, but I know that it’s really boring. Only the Psych Major, her husband & my friend Sarah love sit-ups as much as I do. But I revel in my boringness (I don’t think that’s a word). I love that I do whatever I want. I’m a starfish in bed, I hog it so well even the Pirate Princess (the champion bed hog) would be proud. When I decided to lighten my hair to it’s current light brown & blonde ombré, I didn’t ask for an opinion; I just did it. I pick the movie, & I really don’t care when I hog the couch blanket. I’ve only been making my own decisions for a year, so it still amuses me. I actually enjoy living alone more than I should. I’ve even given up on ever seeing a dime in child support (thanks to our flawed system in Canadaland) or that I’ll ever have an effective co-parenting relationship with the dad. I’ve accepted that I’m doing this life thing by myself & my girls & I aren’t just surviving; we’re thriving & I’m living as an example for them. I’m getting pretty good @ it too. Between meal planning & a schedule, my house is clean, my kids are eating healthy all of the time & most of the time, I’ve got life under control.

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But, I will admit, the latest development in my life makes me wish I didn’t live two hours away from everyone I know & love (one hour from my Sarnia peeps). Because I am actually a moron, I forgot I had two wisdom teeth. I forgot for YEARS, mostly because I had no benefits & couldn’t afford to have them removed. I had the other two pulled years earlier when one got impacted. Well, one of these bastards decided to remind me that they exist by shattering in my gum & getting infected. My face looks really fat & it hurts like a mother effer. But I’ll have surgery & be back to work the next day. Why? Because I can’t afford the time off. Being a sole support parent means sacrifice. But you do what you gotta do.

I won’t lie; I wouldn’t mind a supportive hand to hold to tell me the dentist isn’t scary & an offer to make me soup. I wish I had someone to watch the girls so I didn’t have to condense the teen’s slumber party. I just don’t want to do another sucky thing alone. I get that this is part of independence, but sometimes it’d be nice to have an ally. I know if I still lived in Windsor, I would have friends right there to be a help, but when one moves hours away, you don’t have these things. I guess maybe this broken tooth is helping me realize that while I can do everything on my own; maybe I don’t particularly want to all of the time & that’s okay.

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Not wanting to live forever me against the world doesn’t make me weak; it makes me human. I think I’ve held onto to this belief that I need to be completely independent to prove some kind of point, but maybe I don’t need to prove it anymore. Maybe it’s time I let people help when they offer it. Maybe it’s okay to let people offer comfort, be a friend. Maybe it’s okay to want a partner in life someday. Or maybe I’m whacked out on painkillers & rambling. That’s entirely possible & maybe, that’s okay too.

Closing Time

Normally, my song title blog post titles are just as random as what I’m listening to at the time. Today is different. I deliberately sought out this song for one line, which sums up this post nicely;

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Much like every part of life, this Windsor chapter has been about beginnings & endings. I started over after my first attempt to get a post secondary diploma didn’t go according to plan. I succeeded, graduated & became a writer. I welcomed my youngest daughter & watched her grow into a bright & happy young girl. I obtained a second post secondary diploma when my dearest hippie friend called me & suggested we both needed a change. I started a retail, johnny punch-clock job (even though I swore I’d rather be shot) to support my family & found that it wasn’t so bad. I made great friends & found I was pretty darned awesome @ this real people job thing. I fell out of love with my husband & closed the door on my marriage. I fell in love with a man & had my heart broken. I kept longing for a person who couldn’t or wouldn’t ever love me back. From that experience, I became closed & guarded, terrified to let anyone in again, even my closest friends. I was alienating anyone near me for fear of getting hurt by another person, but I’m slowly stepping out of that shell, taking Gigi’s advice to go out & live again, spend time with friends & even go to some “meetings” (first dates) & be the beautiful, strong & vibrant woman I was meant to be (she’s a wise woman, that Gigi. Meghie also suggested to pick the opposite of what I usually would, but Meghie doesn’t mince words). Truthfully, I haven’t been happy with my Windsor life for years. I often mentioned to Drew that I wanted to get as far away as I could, but there was always one thing that appeared & made me stay & I kept romanticizing this life. Much like “How I Met Your Mother’s” Ted Mosby ignored his incompatibility with former love Robin, overlooking her faults even in the closing moments of the series, I chose to ignore my unhappiness. I pretended not to notice how I let friends dictate everything, including the colour of my living room, while borrowing money & dragging me down with their negativity & chose to ignore that the continued attempts to take over my life were making me passive aggressive & bitchy. I also didn’t notice my own dragging down a good friend, allowing my broken heart & fear of starting over without his guidance & the person I truly believed was the love of my life with me to choke the life out of one of the best friendships I’ve ever had. I ignored my professional dissatisfaction at the magazine, because I was living my dream so I had to suck it up. I ignored that I didn’t care for my neighbourhood & wanted more out of my life, I had been so happy in that life that I was afraid to let it go, even when it was gone. I wanted to go back to that life, with those friends (even though they weren’t perfect, they were my life mates), with that man (even though I knew he’d always hurt me), with that little girl & my own girls, that I couldn’t see that old life wasn’t where I belonged, all I felt was the pain because it didn’t exist anymore. I needed to let go of the life I wanted, the one I’ll never have, to get the life I truly deserve. Much like when Ted finally let go of Robin, he found true love with the titular mother (I’m not acknowledging the last five minutes of the show because I’m trying to make a point), one random September day, I decided to let it all go & just leave town & start over. I got sidetracked by a person & their cruelty, which left me leaving them in a bar in tears, sobbing to the Gleason Table. But that helped me remember that I need to do what’s right for ME. So, I set a timetable, found a house, focused on my personal goals (including a 31lbs weight loss!) & I have been happy. But we all do this at some point; we hold onto nothing because what was once there was amazing, even when it wasn’t. Most of those friends were toxic, that house not the place you want to settle into forever. That man probably wasn’t the beautiful person you remember. Once you realize that (sometimes if you listen to Wide Awake by Katy Perry 100x times in a row, it’ll speed things up), it’s easy to cut that cord & move forward. But don’t feel badly if you struggled or if it took you longer to heal, because all humans heal on their own time. But you’ll get there. We all get there.

But today is the last day & one can’t help but be nostalgic on the last day. I will turn around tomorrow to look back at my empty home & face the flood of memories. I’ll take that instant to remember the birthday parties, the Christmas get together’s, the St. Patrick’s Day I made corned beef even though I didn’t like it. I’ll remember the night he asked me (indirectly) 15 different times to marry him, the cold night air against my face when he showed up late at night, held me in his arms, called me his salvation & said my smile healed his pain, and the night I leaned against my bedroom door & broke down sobbing for hours until I mercifully passed out on the floor because he walked away. I’ll remember MH & Drew’s grand adventures, the nights we were late for the movies because he got watching Maury, needing him to light my barbecue because I was afraid of it, shopping for an iMac, the great ostrich debate & any conversation that ended in “Right?!” I’ll remember blinking back tears as two of my babies started school, sidewalk chalk artwork & all of the times the pirate princess demanded to feed the “gooses” in the yard. I’ll remember school projects, silly songs & clean up days singing Taylor Swift into my mop while my children laughed. I’ll remember a little girl who ran to me & always embraced her little friend like they’d been separated by war every time they met. I’ll remember rushing home from my office to my home office to interview Penn Jillette, my happy tears when my musical hero Amanda Marshall said I was a good reporter & the two am revisions passing out on my computer because I know if I read it over ONE MORE TIME, this time it’ll be perfect. I’ll relive every emotion & then I’ll take a deep breath…& let it all go so I can make a new fresh start & make it a good one.

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Why? Because every new beginning in comes from some other beginning’s end. This chapter of my life has come to an end & the London chapter is a blank page. It’ll be interesting. I’ll find another magazine & tell more interesting & exciting stories that I hope people will read & love. Maybe I’ll fall in love again & finally meet the great love of my life, but that’s not really a priority. Maybe I’ll keep moving towards the GTA & finally land that sweet job in a PR firm or a magazine. But whatever happens, it’s time to stop being afraid & see what happens next, because it may very well be everything I’ve ever wanted.

So, goodbye to this life & welcome new adventures. Let’s see what you have in store for me.

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Day 28: What Stresses Me Out

There was a time when everything in life stressed me out.

During my marriage, I walked on eggshells. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do anything. After the marriage, I was walking on different eggshells. I was so afraid to be alone that I didn’t want to make anyone mad at me. That way, they would love me.

Now, I focus on things by breaking them up as I need to. Cleaning my basement? We’ll do it in four days. Budgeting? We’ll plan it at the start of each month. Chores through the chore hat. Instead of procrastinating and letting things build up in my mind, I handle them as they come. I meditate each night. Yoga helps me detstress. I keep a list of goals I’ve accomplished. All of these things help me keep focused and almost sane. Then, of course, there is my writing, which always helps me, no matter how stressed I am. When I was in school, I often wrote about inane garbage because the subject matter sucked so hard that I couldn’t focus. My writing helped me focus on what needed to be done to get through. Same with the rest of my life; writing helps me find my balance.

The other thing is that I no longer feel dependent on others. I have realized that no matter who comes and goes in my life, I have my children and I will survive. It might sting, but that’s okay; because as the singer Jojo says “Disaster strikes and I’m alright because my love’s on his way.” Whether that’s a friend, a lover, a relative I’m reconnecting with, there will always be someone who loves me in this life and I will cherish those people. However, sometimes, their time in my life has an expiration date. That may sting, but it’ll be alright because I have myself, my daughters, my faith and my determination to make all of our dreams come true will get me through.

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Also, if that doesn’t work and life throws me for a loop, I’ll simply spend an hour doing yoga and between that and chivasana, my mind will be cleared enough to write, which always helps me find my way. Or there’s wine. There’s always wine.

Day 26: My Dream Wedding

I hate weddings.

Like, a lot.

I hate planning weddings.with the exception of the psych major’s wedding and my friend Sarah’s upcoming nups, I don’t really like attending weddings. I’m not big on standing up in weddings. I hate every little thing about weddings almost as much as I have no desire to ever remarry. I wasn’t terribly keen on it the first time & found my vow renewal to be a pain in the ass. The absolute WORST assignment I’ve ever been given was to go to a wedding show & review it by planning a wedding. My photographer was dying of laughter when the florist said “you look like you’d rather be shot.” Yup. I probably would have preferred it.

A photo from the wedding show...this is right before I texted people asking for help
A photo from the wedding show…this is right before I texted people asking for help

The most wedding planning I’ve ever done was a file on my computer while I Skyped a friend & mocked her Pinterest account & picked some wedding dresses and bridesmaids crap & some flowers for my future wedding (as it was planned I would be announcing my engagement on my birthday & we had half seriously picked a wedding date) & nearly puked. Then, some kind hearted person booked an appointment for me (on my birthday) with the dress @ a bridal shoppe with all of those details; my tentative wedding date, my “fiancé’s” info, the dress I had picked, the bridesmaids dresses, all ready to go. My relationship ended 18 days before. I have never cried harder than after that phone call where the wedding store associate was excitedly congratulating me on my engagement, and ON MY BIRTHDAY and why didn’t I come in to try on the dresses?! The Gleason Table called to wish me a happy birthday only to hear my heartbroken sobs. To that person, you are mean & you suck. But even then, when I was happy about wanting to spend my life with a person, the idea of a wedding made me kind of want to barf. Personally, as I said to the guy when he brought up marriage the first time (Because he brought it up often & even spent one night picking tentative wedding dates) if a man could be content with us being engaged forever, I’d be thrilled. It’s not the commitment that scares me, or the life (well, it would now); it’s the idea of being MARRIED. Getting married AGAIN so people can quietly judge me from their seats. I tried being married and it failed and I’m afraid to do it again. Having people cluck their tongues while saying “oh, you’re getting married…again?” and worried about them disapproving. I felt self conscious that people would wonder how I thought this marriage would work when the first one didn’t. I worried my lack of enthusiasm would dampen his desire for the big party. I’d have to plan a wedding where everyone fights and bridesmaids feel entitled and all of the guests make demands and you spend a bunch of money that you could have used to buy a house and by the end you just want it all to go away. It’s not about the couple or the commitment, it’s all “Ew. Why those colours? Why that bridesmaid? Why that dress?” While I buy food & drink for relatives I never see & don’t terribly like. Blah.

But I digress.

My dream wedding sucks. There is no dress. There is no party. There is no engagement. There is nothing. There is me & my partner & some chapel that specializes in elopement. There is no one we know, except maybe my daughters. There is just us, the celebrant, and the witnesses they provide. We’ll tell people when we’re ready; or on Facebook with a status update. Whatever.

I think a marriage is two people. I get sharing that moment, but from years of over sharing when I’m happy or confiding in the wrong people, I’ve learned to be more cautious…as I write on my blog for strangers to read & people I know to dissect. But, even when I’m in a relationship, I keep my relationship posts high level or I comment on why they’re great, etc. I will share with my besties but I’m still a girl. I guess I want to keep that moment between us, our moment. A friend of mine reminded me that even my high school dream wedding was to elope. I remember when my marriage was failing, all of my family and friends mentioned they were at my wedding and therefore, they had the best advice for me. I learned from going to people for advice when my last relationship was ending that people can not always be trusted. I would confide in them and they would turn right around and I learned later that there was no confidence, my private feelings were being exploited & twisted like telephone. The judgey people when planning the wedding. The nosy in laws. I would think about what part of all of my past relationships made me happiest, and it was when it was just the two of us. If I did choose to get married again, I would want to be comfortable. I wouldn’t be comfortable @ a big party. I would want it to be just us, so I could get through my jumbled nerves, and spit out what I would want to say in my vows without a million people boring holes in me, placing bets on how long it would last. I would want my partner beside me, and that’s it, because the only person who needs to know what kind of wife I intend to be is him.

I’ll never be Bridezilla; I don’t want to be a fairy princess. I want the man I’m committing my life to by my side while we promise to be partners for life. No one else needs to be there to make that promise any less meaningful.