Cross Me

I have a confession to make.

After years of working to be healthy and love myself, I gained a bunch of weight back.

After the events of the fall, I decided since I was on the wait list for counselling, I’d just eat a fuck ton of garbage. I bought lunch every day, ate a ton of snacky crap. I even brought chips into the house and started drinking Soda again. It was BAD. I ended up adding 40 to the 20 I had gained and now I needed to drop 60lbs to fit in the super cute outfits I used to own. I haven’t felt good about my body in a long time and on 12/29/18, I vowed to change this.

Actual footage of me in the fall

I started a fitness only IG & updated it with progress pics once a week. Everyone was usually positive, except that one asshole that trolled, calling me fat (Good job, asshole, I already knew that. That’s literally the point, but thanks for the head’s up).

It’s been good for keeping me accountable, but I felt like I wasn’t progressing. I was really down on myself and being down on myself usually means stress eating. I tried stress running instead, and stress fitness. I’ve been doing a fun combination of CrossFit, Crossfit with Deadboys Fitness at home, and running. I even felt confident enough to try one of the competitive WOD’s and completed “Man Vs. Man,” a Deadboys Workout that was awful. I also beat my friend, so I’m the man.

This was awful. But finished in 21:22

Even though my running times are getting faster and my lifts are getting heavier, I still felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere. Even when I tried on an outfit and it was two sizes smaller, I still felt defeated. I promised myself I wouldn’t get in this place again and here I was, fat again. I felt like a hypocrite, because I keep telling my 12 year old when she complains about her least favourite class that she’s right at the end, and you wouldn’t just sit on the ground 50 metres from the finish line, so you gotta push and finish strong. But here I was, ready to throw in the towel because I didn’t feel like I was improving. I was trying to be positive, but just felt like a failure, until I took this week’s progress pic. I noticed what I thought were small changes in my waist and thighs. So I decided to do a comparison from eight weeks ago & was shocked.

There’s a fairly big difference! It’s not where I want to be but it’s a big start! I forgot that with weight loss, it’s easy to get discouraged because you look at yourself in the mirror every day and it’s hard to really notice changes. But if you trust the process and remain consistent, you’ll get where you want to be. I’m pretty proud of the changes I’ve made and I’m gonna keep going. There are no more chips in the house. We eat fruit as a snack. I pack lunches. I’ve stayed on my running/fitness schedule & progress is being made. To top things off, I tried on a jumpsuit and it was a size 12, two sizes smaller than I’ve been. Maybe I’m not at the goal, but I think there’s lots to celebrate.

So, if you’ve felt like you’ve hit a wall with your attempts to get healthier, improve at work, school, or whatever you’re doing to try and be the best version of you, don’t stress, change takes time. Maybe you won’t see it right away, but you will, And when you do, you’ll want to keep going because you’ll be empowered by the change. So, even when you feel discouraged, keep on pushing. You’ll feel so much better when you do.

Power Over Me

The suckiest part about training for a goal is the part where you realize you have a fuck ton of work to do to reach it and you cannot give up or you have to go back to the beginning.

While training for my 10k, I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that I gained weight last summer and driving means I don’t walk as often. So, getting back into the running groove has been a challenge. But, I’m gonna keep pushing, keep posting to my fitstagram (because no one wants to be bombarded with my fitness junk, but if you wanna follow, click here. If you’d rather follow along where I actually look nice, click here), and get better. Unfortunately, the only way to run faster is to actually just run more. And running is awful. But, imma push through until I’m 10k ready!

This is the time to beat!

I promised myself that nothing would stop my progress. Not weather, not my own insecurities, not even nature’s douchecanoes; geese. But, I never realized that my ego could still be easily bruised. I was running, already frustrated by my pace, when some boys that know my teenager walked by and said loudly enough for me to hear over my music, “isn’t that (redacted)’s fat mom? Why is she running?”

Full stop.

Fat. Mom. Fat. Mom. FAT. mom. Every single aspect of my life was reduced to those two words; fat mom. Mom I don’t mind, I like being a mom. I get to be with my favourite humans. Their existence drives me to be better. Everything I do is to give them more and better than I had. But fat. WTF? I worked so hard not to be fat anymore and here I was, fat again. Who was I kidding? I’m not gonna make it 10k! I’m fat! So, like a mature adult, I sat on the curb and cried.

I don’t know why it bothered me so much. They’re teenage boys who my kid doesn’t even like! But it broke me down and here I was, a grown ass adult, crying like a little bitch. So, I went home Drove to Walmart. Ate a family size bag of Ketchup Chips. I ran a bath. I got in it and bawled. Every insecurity came pouring out; too old, too ugly, too slow, too weak. Sure, I ran 10k last year, but now I’m too fat! I’m a fat mom who is probably also ugly & is embarrassing to be seen with in public because of the ugly. You know, completely rational behaviour.

Pretty sure am not ugly, but oh well

Once I was done being a little bitch, I stopped crying. After all, there is a scientifically proven method to stop being fat; do active shit and stop eating bad for you shit. Eating Ketchup Chips will not help me become less fat. Yes, I’m a stress eater, but there was a plethora of healthy, yummy things in my kitchen that I could have eaten. I let a group of teenage boys stop my run. So, the next night, I got up, and ran my 4km training route.

Was it my best? Hell no. But did I do it? Hell yes. Tonight I ran my 3km training route. Tomorrow is 5km. Still going to Crossfit three times a week. I’m going to do these things for me, while silencing the voice that says food is the answer, because it never is.

Words hurt, but only if you give them power. I control my body image and right now, I may not be happy with it, but it’s up to me to change it. I don’t go to CrossFit to impress teenage boys. I don’t run to impress men. I do these things because I want to look and feel healthier. I want to live longer and be a good example for my family. In order to do those things, I have to shut out stupid people who don’t actually matter to me in the long run, throw on PVRIS, and do the work. Absolutely nothing will ever get accomplished in life without doing the work.

My pace may not be what I want right now, but it’ll get there, because I am more than a fat mom. I’m a pretty good mom. I’m the okayest cell phone boss lady there is. My friends and cats seem to like me. And I may be a slow, weak crossfitter, but I’m still the 29681 fittest woman on Earth God Dammit. I am not going to let myself be defined by a three letter word anymore. I’m going to keep working to love my body instead.

But maybe the biggest takeaway here is that if you do see the fat person at the gym, or on their morning run, don’t be a dick to them. Don’t be a dick to that super ripped dude crushing the weights. Don’t be a dick to anyone actively working to improve themselves. Anyone who mocks someone trying to be better is actually a pile of insecure human garbage. If you need to resort to mocking someone who’s out there putting in work to be their best, maybe you should look in a mirror and figure out why you need to project your insecurities onto a person out there busting their ass. It will always say more about you being awful than them working hard.

For The Last Time

It’s funny how everything changes.

Last year, I felt very out of place in my own life. I felt like a fat banana, and like someone too awkward and not fit enough to be part of my gym community. This year, I feel empowered by the same people and I find that I want to go to the gym because I love being there, and go running because I finally enjoy it.

I felt out of place at work. I felt like I was the smart kid in class that everyone talks shit about after they give them the answers to number six. Now, I have an amazing group of humans that work with me. I love the leadership team, and I love the staff I have in my store & across the hall. I hang out with them outside of work; we play video games & eat dinner. I even convinced my ASM to run a 10k with me (she hates me now)! But I genuinely love working with these people and I feel more empowered to be successful. My personal performance has improved, and my ASM and I are a great team, as are my best friend/coworker and her ASM. We have such a fun dynamic and I’m so proud to be part of it.

I no longer feel like a weird loner in a big city trying to find where I belong. I’ve found it; I found my home. I found it by being brave enough to drive. I found it through my work, both management and through my published articles. And I’ve found my tribe of people through my job, my gym, or because they moved here from home. But I finally feel like, for the first time in years, I’ve found my place.

It’s weird how something will happen and you’ll realize everything has just kind of snapped into place. For me, it’s been this last week. We celebrated St. Patrick’s Day at the house and it hit me that I finally lived somewhere I was proud to invite company over. I asked my social circle to do a fitness thing and people actually wanted to do it. The kids brought home great report cards. I was invited to a gym event and I went and had a great time. That’s when it hit me; I’m no longer a participant in my own life watching it happen around me. I really love my life and finally feel like it belongs to me. Even my cats seemed more at ease lately, and put up with me taking selfies with them. That also may be the CBD oil.

Things won’t improve until you take control and improve them. And your situation won’t change, whether it’s your financial situation, your relationship status, your job, until you stop letting yourself be a participant in your own life. I needed to stop just accepting the things I didn’t like about my life and change them. Once I did, the positivity and joy arrived. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that change doesn’t work unless you do, and some of that change I didn’t even realize was happening until I saw how certain decisions change how you see your life. You won’t even see change overnight. You’ve just gotta keep pushing until you can’t see the negative because you’re too focused on the good and that’s when the breakthrough will happen.

Sometimes all you gotta do is change how you look at life. Fake it until you make it? Instead of “how am I gonna run 10k again?” It’s “this year I’m gonna make sure I get my Doughnut Party after I finish.” Instead of “ugh I have a fuckton of yard work,” it’s “my yard will be dope.” Instead of “that workout is too hard,” it’s “my legs are gonna look so good in a few months.” You get the idea. By changing the mindset, I could do the work to make changes. So, next time you feel negativity seeping in, look back at how you’ve grown and don’t let yourself undo that progress.

The Death Of Me

One of the things I struggle with the most is the ability to roll with punches, but I’m finally getting better.

My anxiety always gets the best of me & I end up pushing myself to be the best and when I’m not, I tend to panic. This applies to every aspect of my life; work, fitness, personal life. But, I’m working to get better. My goals for 2019 all involve me becoming the healthiest version of myself and that means learning to take the L’s when they pop up, because they happen to everyone.

This week started with a victory. Since I started CrossFit, all I’ve ever wanted to do was an RX’ed WOD (exactly as written, no scaling). This week the Crossfit Open started and 19.1 was completed…RX’ed BAYYYYBEEEEEE! I get that to normal Crossfit people, who work at it every day, and are super strong and mega bad ass, this is not a big deal. But to me, it’s a HUGE deal. I felt super accomplished. Maybe it’s not the best score ever, but it’s a damn good score to me.

I followed up my success this week by falling flat on my face the following week. Burpees are my biggest weakness. Until I get back to the gym three times a week and work on my mobility through yoga, they’ll be slow, sloppy, and awful. Burpees always bring out my insecurities too. I always feel obese, awkward, and like everyone is laughing at me. I know this isn’t true because my gym people are awesome. Also, they’re trying to do their own burpees and probably don’t give two shits about what I’m doing. They’ve got a workout to do. Normally, feeling awkward and awful about myself would keep me from the gym for a week. But not this time. I’ve got a workout I need to do and it involves hanging, another fear of mine. But I’m determined to do well.

Life is about learning to roll with punches. Sometimes you’ll fall on your face at the gym. Sometimes you’ll get rejected for a date. Sometimes you’ll fuck up at your job, or forget to put gas in your car, or accidentally lock your cat in your pantry. But you’ve gotta pick yourself up and learn to roll with it and keep plugging forward. I’ve realized how much of my life I’ve derailed from this insane standard I’ve held myself to. I try so hard to do everything right all of the time while simultaneously thinking that I suck. I feel like if I’m not completely perfect at work, I Won’t be taken seriously. I get so anxious about fitness that I’m afraid to go do the fitness and then feel badly because I’m not progressing at fitness. I both want to move into a healthy relationship, but I’m too insecure to talk to men I’m interested in, derailing any hopes of being in a healthy relationship. If I could just learn to accept that a mistake, miscue, or rejection isn’t the end of the world, I’d be in a much healthier place. So, I’m going to continue to work on it.

It’s not easy. Overcoming irrational fears and long term anxiety wasn’t built in a day. But neither was my desire to be the kind of woman I would be proud to be. I just have to make it a point to make that desire bigger than my fear of failure, and grow from it instead of falling apart because of it.

I Swear This Time I Mean It

Have you ever been so tired that you feel it in your soul? Because that’s how I’ve felt lately.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been working non stop and work has been pulling me in a lot of different directions. I’m trying to help everyone and run my store and work on articles and there just isn’t enough hours in a day to make everyone happy. I’m trying to give all my time away from work to the famjam, which requires binge watching Fuller House (BTW Fuller House is absolutely terrible).

Maybe it’s because I’m getting over the flu, so I’m living on a lovely diet of Cold 911, DayQuil, and NyQuil. Either way, I’m just tired & it’s impacting every aspect of my life.

One of the things I’m trying to work on is learning how to stop giving so much of myself and not taking time for myself. One of the things I’m most guilty of is trying to help everyone; the girls, my friends, my co-workers, and I always take a backseat. That means the gym (which is so important for my mental health, although I did sign up for DeadBoys Fitness so I can at least WOD from home on non-gym days), personal time to unwind, dating, writing, etc. Everything just takes a backseat to helping everyone else. I keep saying I’ll work on it, until I find myself bogged down and exhausted and feeling like I have no energy. So, I’m learning how to take that time to recharge, and refocus so I can be someone who people can count on to be there for them. But I have to learn to be there for me too.

I think as women, we are conditioned to think that any form of self care is selfish; you need to always put your kids, mate, job, house first. But eventually you just get exhausted because there’s no energy left to pull from. It’s like trying to drink from a water bottle that’s empty. For years, I would just keep pouring until I had shaken the last drop of energy from my body. But I’ve learned that isn’t healthy for me or my family. My kids need a mom that is there for them. I can’t be there for them if I’m too tired to function. I can’t work until I’m dead on my feet. I can’t be everyone’s sounding board. It’s okay for me to withdraw for a bit & focus on my needs. It’s okay to go to bed early, or take a long bath, or say no, I cannot take on that right now, I have too much on my plate. It doesn’t make me a bad person, it doesn’t make me mean. It just means that I need to refill my pitcher. Sometimes, we all just need to be alone with our thoughts to relax.

At my house, you are never truly alone.

However, when you’re a working mom, you sometimes have to power through until you can take a rest. So, I’ll use the gym and DeadBoys Fitness as my personal time until I can take a real break, which comes in the form of a four day weekend in April, where I can hang with the kids, eat pizza, and watch Becky Lynch main event WrestleMania. You know, priorities.

I used to think I needed to be around people because being alone was scary. Now I’ve learned that being alone isn’t scary; it’s necessary to recharge your batteries, and to love yourself. If you can’t love yourself enough to spend time with yourself, doing things you love for yourself, how are you going to love anyone else enough to give them what they need? If you can’t love yourself enough to give you what you need, all you’re doing is letting others exhaust you until there is nothing left of you. I haven’t mastered this, but I’m learning, and I’ll get there.

Let You Love Me

I’ve decided that 2019 is going to be the year I break all of my destructive, self sabotaging habits. I’m going to stop letting anxiety, poor time management skills, and procrastination affect my ability to do my job well, work out three times a week, keep my house clean, and generally be super mom…okay, decent mom, because super mom is a lie.

Step one was leave the house I hated and move into a place I’m proud of. My new house is pretty dope kids. I’m almost unpacked, all the laundry is done, and I’m loving my new place. It’s funny how loving where you live can change your whole outlook. I love my house so I’m making it a point to keep it tidy, and so are the kids. Clutter is a thing of the past, as we’ve made sure to keep things organized and put away. Loving coming home each night has made me happier at work, more pleasant to be around, and overall more at peace with my life & makes me want to be better. I haven’t loved my space since I left London, so this is huge. The stress of moving caused me to lose my focus at work, so it’s been nice to be back on track, working on those sales and really helping my team.

The next is health and wellness. I’m down 12 lbs so far and now that the move is done, I can focus on the gym. I registered for my fourth CrossFit Open, because someone has to finish last and I’m honoured to take one for the team.

Truthfully, it’s just what I need to shake off all of the blahs and residual depression from the summer. Getting back into fitness and integrating back into my gym life will do wonders for my self esteem and mental health. The only way to be a good parent is to teach healthy living by example. If I want to raise girls that love their bodies, I have to learn to love mine, which means getting stronger, healthier. By setting a good example, I can raise strong, bad ass, women.

All of these steps to be a better person are for a reason; to be a better mom, a better writer, a better cell phone boss lady, a better housekeeper and human. The more I invest into loving myself, the more I’ll be able to develop a healthy interpersonal relationship. Which brings me to my last point of self sabotage; the ring.

I started wearing the ring about three years ago, when a security guard at work wouldn’t respect that I wasn’t interested in him romantically. He kept pushing, so I went to Pandora and bought a ring. Suddenly, he backed off (because apparently “no” doesn’t hold as much weight as “look, I’m some other dude’s property!). Now, I just wear it because I like it. But today when I was driving my best friend home from work, we realized that I’m probably self sabotaging, as I wear a giant ring on my left hand. I’m giving off the aura of “unavailable,” mostly because I didn’t like myself and was living up to a self fulfilling prophecy that I was unlovable. Most people check for rings when interacting with a person of interest. While, it meant nothing except it was pretty, I was probably subconsciously making myself unavailable because I’m so gun-shy about dating. I can’t expect people to know I’m interested if I’m giving off the vibe that I’m unavailable. So, perhaps it’s time I ditch the ring.

I think a lot of us put up walls when we’ve been hurt or have experienced trauma. We’re all taught from TV shows that we someone to push past those walls and make us love them because that will heal them. That. Is. Bullshit. No one can tear those walls down but you, for you. This isn’t the CW and life isn’t some teen drama. No one can love you back to life but yourself. I think sometimes we let the dark parts of ourselves convince us that we need to wreck stuff before it starts and then wonder why nothing is changing. I’m so guilty of that, which is why I’m determined to break all of my self destructive habits, so I can be a healthier person personally and professionally. This means accountability at home, at work, at the gym, and with my personal life. This means no more giving the impression that I’m unavailable, or cold, or dismissive. Don’t worry, I’ll still troll online creeps…mostly because they are creeps.

In order to improve my life, I’ve gotta improve my life. No more letting the cycle of depression affect my home, no more letting anxiety affect my desire to live a healthier lifestyle. And no more hiding behind security blankets to avoid dating & rejection! If I’m gonna live my best life, I need to throw out the excuses with the bags I donated to charity when I downsized. The more bad, self sabotaging habits I remove (as well as that ring), the happier I’ll be.

Maybe You’re Right

FINALLY, the last few weeks are ALMOST OVER!

Hooray!

It has been a long ass month of sales, training a new hire, packing, getting ready to move to my dream home, and pretty much never sleeping ever. I’m hosting a housewarming party at the end of this and we’ve unpacked (with many stuffed mushrooms), because I’m literally in awe of my home. All my life I’ve wanted a home that I could be proud of, that the girls could be proud of, and in London, we had one, but not much else. Here, I have a job I’m good at, a freelancing career, a car, and the house I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl and I’m so grateful that my girls & I get to call it home.

I’m working with a renewed sense of purpose, because I have the house of my dreams, I have to take care of Wanda Maximoff, and now I’ve got to save up for some trips to Ontario for the summer, as well as a trip for my birthday. I was planning a trip to Vegas, but with Britney taking a hiatus, why even go? Exactly! No point at all!

Since Vegas is out, I’ll go to the one place I’ve always dreamed of visiting; New Orleans. I’ve tried to go twice; once for my Honeymoon (we didn’t go anywhere because he lost his job right before the wedding…twice) and once with an ex boyfriend (we broke up). Perhaps the lesson is to stop trying to do kick ass stuff with shitty men. So, whether I go alone, or find a travel buddy, imma try to save up and go to NOLA! I’ll need to fritter all my extra pennies, and buckle down at the gym (I’m down 12lbs since December), because I want to do this vacation, but also feel good about myself while I’m there.

One part of feeling good about myself is trying to make dating an option and actually mean it this time. For years I’ve kept myself closed off because I’ve been afraid of getting hurt. Then I’ll go out on a few dates, decide the guy is probably just an asshole and leave before I get hurt, rinse repeat. But my BFF’s keep reminding me that when I take risks with my work and other aspects of my life, they pay off. I took my kick down the ladder at work and worked hard to prove myself to be a capable manager who CAN do a good job. I took risks with my house hunt and I now live in the most awesome house in the whole wide world. Why don’t I take risks with my love life, and I don’t mean Tinder.

I mean actually making moves to let men know I’m interested in them, or at least make eye contact.

For this, and other pearls of wisdom, follow me on SC @ashmhc!

I keep telling myself I’ll meet a guy organically, but I also don’t do anything to do that, like leave my house to go anywhere except work, the gym, and Starbucks. Then while at those places, I refuse to acknowledge anyone outside of a quick greeting and retreat into my insecurity and lose myself in my phone. I refuse to even approach the hot security guard my best friend swears is flirting with me because I say he’s definitely not flirting, he’s just being friendly. He’s hot with an accent and hilarious. I am…me. I can look at my life and think “Damn I’m so awesome,” until it comes to dating. Then I instantly think

  • Too old
  • Too Fat
  • too weird (definitely too weird)
  • Too much baggage
  • Too loud
  • Too basic (My personal and work cell phones have matching pink sparkly cases ffs!)

I always just look in the mirror and think;

What self respecting man wants a single mom of three in her thirties that talks too much, swears too much, is WAY too bubbly, watches wrestling and loves Crossfit, Taylor Swift, and thinks that nachos and mojitos is the best date ever? None. That’s who.”

Let’s be real; there are beautiful women in their twenties with careers, cute friends that take insta photos of their feet on tropical islands, no kids, no divorce, wearing a size four. An attractive, intelligent man would definitely be more interested in. Why? Because they’re awesome! I’m not knocking beautiful twenty something women. They’re the coolest! They have jobs and visions and deserve to be praised for being amazing & deserve to be loved and appreciated just like anyone else.

Women need to stick together and they aren’t to blame for my insecurities. I am. It’s my fault that I refuse to make eye contact. It’s my fault that I feel awkward and weird and like I’m not good enough…and it’s up to me to fix it.

When I carry myself with the same confidence I have when it comes to my job, people notice. Men notice. They talk to me, smile, and even flirt. But I’m so concerned that I’m not good enough that I close myself off from meeting, as my ex boss/current friend says, “quality mans.” But that’s not on them, it’s on me. Sure, I have baggage, but I can lose weight if I put in the work, I’ve done it before. I have a good job, a great support system, a car, no criminal record. All good things. Maybe I’m too basic, but I’m also pretty funny. I’m smart. I have strong opinions and I can totally hold a conversation because I NEVER SHUT UP LITERALLY EVER. But for anyone else to think I’m a catch, I have to believe I am. But that’s the problem; I don’t believe I am. I do, until I want to approach a guy I’m interested in. Then I clam up and close off because there’s no way I’d be good enough for him and end up depressed for three days because I’m a lost cause with cats. I’m going to die alone as a spinster…with. cats.

When I get like this, and decide that I’m probably gonna die alone, ugly and fat, with cats, I usually eat ten pizzas and skip the gym and do all the things that don’t improve my life. This time, I channeled my insecurities into something that would make me feel better about myself. I carried on, getting my new house ready. I went to the gym as often as I could. I changed up my sales strategies at work. Went for Korean food with my ASM squad. But most importantly, spent time with the family catching Pokémon or watching the Reputation Stadium Tour on Netflix and relived our magical evening with our Lord & Saviour Jesus Swift.

A mate can’t help me love myself and I can’t have a mate unless I love myself. So, if I’m going to use 2019 as the year that I FINALLY make my love life a priority, I need to silence my insecurities by making myself a priority. Once I truly love myself, I can let someone else love me.

Maybe I won’t have the courage to ask for the hot security guard’s number, but if I keep working on loving myself despite all of my weirdness, I’ll talk to the right guy. And he’ll think I’m great just the way I am. But the best part will be that I’ll think I’m great just the way I am too.

Last year, I attended a beautiful wedding & I caught the bouquet. I jokingly told my friend that it was hilarious that I caught it, because I’m the one person who will never get married next…or at all. Her new husband told me “if you told me two years ago that I’d be here now, married to (friend) and building a life and family with her and the kids, I’d have laughed at you. But I’m here and I’m so happy. Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling you that in two years, we’ll be dancing at your wedding.” It was so optimistic and cute. But maybe he’s right. Maybe all these years I’ve closed myself off because I’ve felt unworthy of love, and I’m missing out on the joy they had. So I promised I’d carry that bouquet as my “something borrowed” at my future wedding. I just have to remind myself that I deserve love and joy just as much as anyone else and its out there if I’m willing to put myself out there.

But I learned you’ll never love yourself if you keep blaming your past, your experiences, acting like a victim, or making no efforts to improve your circumstances. Change doesn’t work unless you do. I keep making changes; I work out to feel better about my body. I found a home I’m proud of. I work hard at my job so I can grow. I’m not a perfect mom, but I’m trying. But if I want to be a person that someone else will fall in love with, I have to make sure that I love every aspect of who I am, and continue to grow. I’m not there yet, but I’m working at it. Maybe, once I fully love me, I’ll meet someone who does the same.

Used to Be

My life seems to run on two speeds; nothing is happening or everything is happening all at once. There will never be an in between.

But hey, I guess that’s okay, as long as I know what I’m doing…

…spoiler alert, I do not. But I’m slowly getting there and that’s the key.

Work takes up a lot of my time, but that’s okay, because I’m mastering work life balance. I’m learning how to leave when my shift is over to go home or to the gym most days. I’m learning it’s okay to take my days off and use them for personal time with the fam jam. I can be boss lady, but also take time to be MHC too. I’m also training my new neighbour, who happens to be my best friend y’all! So, I can focus on one workplace and not two. Plus, she’s killing it right now and once she’s fully trained, is gonna rock this business! So, I’m prioritizing myself sometimes, and that’s okay.

I’m learning that it’s okay to make yourself a priority, something I often forget. I always feel like I have to be “on.” I have to be the best mom, the best partner, the best friend, the best employee, the best boss lady, and I need to constantly give and give and give and give. But then, I’m like the Giving Tree. There’s nothing left, but you still need to give. You can’t give everything and then wonder why you’re drained. It’s okay to take time for yourself and replenish so you can give to the people that rely on you. I’ve been forgetting that for so long, trying to please everyone, that I’ve been an empty, drained, vessel, and that’s impacted my work, my home life, my interpersonal relationships. I need to remember that it’s okay to sometimes put me first and it doesn’t make me a bad mom or partner or employee or boss lady. It makes me human.

So, I’ve been making the gym a priority at least once a week. I’ve been taking my Sundays for the kids (except this Sunday, when I’ll be working at a trade show. Check my IG for details). I’ve been taking time at home to declutter my basement and do housework and keep my space the way I want it. Speaking of space, I’ve been putting out feelers for new spaces to call home when my lease is up next spring. I keep talking about finding another home (within YEG guys, I’m not planning another cross country trek. This is permanent), but I never take the time to do it. So, I’ve been looking at a few rentals close to my work or near the high school I’ve chosen for my seventh grader to attend when the time comes. Perhaps a new space that I feel more comfortable in is what the doctor ordered. I loved my London house, and I’ve never felt the same about this one. Perhaps I need to find a place I loved as much. I didn’t like London, just my house. I love Edmonton, but not my house. I need to stop being lazy and find “my” Edmonton house. By acknowledging I have my own needs and choosing to address them, I can continue working to be the happiest, healthiest MHC I can be.

I think sometimes women are taught that if we put ourselves first, then we are selfish and not thinking about our kids/mates/job. But if you don’t make yourself a priority and focus on making yourself happy, no one else is going to. Not your mate. Not your parents. Not your kids. Not your job. It’s a one person job. You can’t give if you’ve given everything away. Sometimes, you’ve gotta love yourself and put your needs first, and don’t let anyone tell you it’s selfish. You deserve a fulfilling, happy life too.

People Like Us

Sometimes, life is super rad and everything is awesome & you look at life like “damn, life is so awesome!”

…this is not one of those times.

I’m telling you kids, this month has been a struggle. First, I asked to reduce my workload as a result of a personal issue. My super awesome boss was all “yeah, for sure,” at first, but then he was like “LOL JK you run two stores now.” I’m not complaining. I’m grateful that I get to prove I can handle more responsibilities. My kick ass ASM’s are a big help, and it’s double money, so I’ve been planning a girls weekend with some girlfriends and the kids to go to Jasper at the end of October or early November. Hopefully, my best friend can come with, depending on her work schedule, because my best friend is moving to Edmonton. DID I MENTION MY BEST FRIEND WILL BE LIVING IN EDMONTON WITH ME (well, not in the same house, BUT VERY CLOSE TO ME)?! Hard work means I can save up for Xmas, and go on a little mini vacay to see mountains. But, I’d really like to find time for the gym. I love the gym.

LOOK HOW HOT MY BEST FRIEND IS

I’ve been struggling with some personal stuff. Sometimes it’s hard to put personal struggles aside and focus on the work. But, you’ve gotta do it, even when it feels like everything is crushing you and the weight of the world is breaking your heart. But you gotta push through. Your family depends on it & you have to do what’s best, even if it’s not popular. Sometimes that stress bleeds in at work and you’re crying in your back room because you don’t know how to navigate a situation like this. Fortunately, I have a great team of people that work with me. I have a great support team of managers and an understanding boss. So, we make it work somehow & the work is paying off. We won our “Holy Grail.” Every month we get a little better. Even when everything sucks, you’ve gotta smile and keep on moving.

Not pictured; the other half of my team. Also, my desire to look cute in a picture

Somewhere between the added workload, and article deadline, declining a writing opportunity I really wanted to take advantage of (and hopefully will in the near future, when I have more time), I sat on the glasses I need to wear at all times to read and drive and broke them. Again, look on the bright side MHC. Fix em with super glue. You have benefits. You can get new ones. The new ones are Coach. They are Hella cute. They aren’t scratched. Yay! So, let’s take a deep breath and be positive.

Which brings me to the story of my car.

I love my car. I have an unnatural attachment to my car. Her name is Wanda Maximoff. I refuse to let my car get below half a tank of gas. You can not eat or drink inside of my car. You must wipe your feet before getting inside my car. I’ve already booked my oil change/service, because it’s been almost six months. I freak if it is even a little bit dirty. Yes, I love my car. I’m also a SUPER cautious driver. I drive five below the speed limit at all times (unless it’s raining, then it’s ten). On my way home from an impromptu trip to West Edmonton Mall, I went through a roundabout, dropped my speed (it was raining), hit a pothole, and PUNCTURED MY FUCKING TIRE. MY BRAND NEW CAR HAD A FLAT TIRE.

That was it. The last straw. Everything came crashing down; my broken heart, my work stress, my lack of time management which meant no gym, and now my car had a flat tire. I was so angry. I’m a decent person. I work hard. I’m a good mom. I do my best. I try to treat people well. I am a ridiculously cautious driver. So, why was life continuing to fuck me without even buying me dinner first?! I could have spit blood. I was just so sick and tired of trying to be nice and be happy all of the god damn time only to have people stab me in the back and betray my trust and do hateful things to my family while the universe seemed to fuck with my peace of mind and MY BRAND NEW CAR. I did not want to “find the silver lining.” I wanted to throw shit and scream.

But, fortunately for me, the universe won’t let me wallow in self pity. I have to see the good, like my friend getting down on the wet ground to help me change my tire and helping me get my car to Canadian Tire to get it replaced. He also reminded me that my busted tire is a metaphor for life. I did everything right; I was cautious. I signaled. I slowed down to be mindful of the slick roads. I did everything you’re supposed to do and still hit a pothole. That’s life. You can do everything right, but something could still go wrong. The important thing is we learn and still look for the good. I had good friends who spent the evening with me while I replaced my tire. My staff helping me balance my time. My friends back home offering their love and support. Sometimes, you’ve gotta just search for that one good thing about your day & use it to be happy, otherwise you become a miserable sad sack incapable of finding joy.

When life craps on you, you’ve gotta find good. Sometimes it’s as big as the fact that you have a job, a family, great friends, and two kick ass cats and you can work your dream job while also working full time at a job you enjoy and feel empowered at. Sometimes it’s as important as having your friend teach you how to change your tire. Sometimes, it can be as little as you discovered a Taco Bell 12 blocks away & Becky Lynch is the Smackdown Women’s Champion. There’s something good in everything. It’s up to us to find it.

So, even though life is not ideal right this second; it will be. Everything gets better. While we are plugging along, I’ll remember that it’s okay to be stressed and sad, there’s still a lot of good to be found. Maybe it’s harder to find, but if you look hard enough, and make it a point to find it, you will.

The Document Speaks for Itself

A lot of times, when I write about my life, I get weirded out. 

There are always valid reasons for my weirded out-ness, such as “I hate talking about myself in a way that makes me feel vulnerable.” There is the “people I know read this shit & will text me about it or they’ll think I’m totes crazy.” I also feel like I spend a ridiculous amount of time writing lately because I am fretfully lonely for my Windsor/Sarnia/London friends. I’ve made some rad friends here so far, but I find myself missing home, so I use my blog as sort of a security blanket. This brings about the concern that people would rather read about me than engage in conversation or stay connected to me, like I’m some sort of zoo animal. Yes, I analyze literally everything.

I have a point, I promise.

I’ve decided that since I’m just going to keep using my one outlet as my way of feeling less isolated from almost everything that I love, I may as well use it to be a better person. So, I’m being more open about all the things that make me less than perfect MHC. Why? Because I want to be a better person. I want to be some kind of hybrid of the person I am and the person I was before. Still bad ass, but nicer. I really feel like the whole purpose to being alive is to grow and evolve and be kinder and gentler to our fellow man, etc.

Anywho, I wrote a whole bunch of stuff about why I suck at trusting people. I guess that was the first step to me actually being able to do it. But again, I felt weird because people I know read this crap. People I love. People who mean a great deal to me. And my mother (waves to my mother). I don’t want the people I love most to read about my thoughts on my blog. I want them to talk to me (although my good friend Gleason thinks it might be good for people to read my weird thoughts, it’ll help them understand my mind better and therefore make those relationships stronger). I don’t want them to think that I don’t trust them or that they need to coddle me or make me feel secure, because I don’t want that.  I honestly just write stuff because I feel happy when I write stuff! When anything bothers me in the slightest, I write about it & feel better! It’s like an extension of who I am as a person or something. Also, people I do not care for in the slightest read my blog (waves to ex husband) & I don’t want them to make my attempts to grow & become a more confident person fuel their narcissism. I began to worry. People I know read this. People I care about read this. I do not want people I care about to get upset that I am writing about my life in great detail because I’m lonely and homesick and I write about stuff to fill the void. Instead, I got texts from my friends, who said they could relate. They feel the same way sometimes. They struggle with trusting people. They’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. They just didn’t know how to tell people without feeling crazy. Suddenly, I felt very sane. Which was nice. Thank you, fellow crazy people for helping me feel united in our crazy. 

  
But I guess the best feedback I got was from my friend Gleason. He basically told me how I’m always putting the needs of my daughters, my friends, my lover, my mother over my own and it’s perfectly okay to feel insecure or like all the things that went wrong before will again. But I’m very lucky to have the ability to be self aware enough to start to fix the things about my personality I want to improve upon without it destroying my life in the process. So, I should be proud of myself for having a talent that makes others think and want to improve. And I can appreciate how fortunate I am to have an amazing family, a loving boyfriend and great friends and find happiness on days where there are none. By being able to see all of the wonderful things I have helps me continue to be positive when things aren’t and he’s lucky to have me as a friend. All of these things are totally rad.

So, thanks fellow crazy people for reading my blog & telling me that I’m not crazy. Pretty sure I am, but I’m pretty sure that’s okay. Because even though I go through periods of loneliness or rejection (by newspapers), that’s all part of life & I can turn all of those things into positives to improve who I am. Yay! 

And if all else fails, I provide y’all with entertainment. 

Also here is this penguin. You literally cannot be sad while looking at a penguin