New Lows

The last few months have been such a whirlwind, and it’s felt like it just never stops.

Nothing is as it was three months ago. My job is different, my address, my home, my car, etc. Nothing is the same. But every time I think I can finally adjust, something new gets thrown into the mix. Something like my cat going missing.

Anyone who knows me knows I’m absolutely obsessed with my cats. I love my cats more than I love most people. If you are reading this, there is a non zero percent chance that I love my cats more than I love you. Truthfully, unless you are one of my kids, my stepkids, my best friend, or my fiancé, there is 100% chance I love my cats more than I love you. So when Tacocat was lost, I LOST MY MIND. I cried every day. I pleaded with neighbours on every Facebook group, and searched every second. My sweet angel fiancé offered a massive cash reward for the safe return of my beloved Tacocat. Even my father in law, who’s not a cat person, helped me look for my beloved Tacocat…and then the little shit just came home like nothing happened! I have never been happier to see anything in my life! My teenager suggested we put AirTags on the cats, and we actually did. So now I know where they are at all times and I feel so much better.

After what seemed like the zillionth crisis in the last three months, I sat on the big comfy couch in my living room watching the rain through the big windows in my living room. I was just enjoying the elements and I finally got to appreciate that I was sitting in MY house, in MY living room, on MY couch. One thing I’ve struggled with is accepting that this is my home. This was my fiancé’s house long before I moved in, and I struggle with imposter syndrome. I feel like I’m living someone else’s life; like when a show recasts the lead with someone else. Sure you accept that recast, but there’s always that part of you that longs for the OG.

One of my struggles to adjust was the idea that I’m a never ending guest in my life. I would get inside my own head and wonder if I deserve this, or did I steal it from someone else? I’m just a weird person who talks a lot, is kind of annoying, and talks to her beloved cats like they’re people. How did I end up in a lake house with a really neat car (with profiles like an Xbox), a blended family, and a man who worships me and makes me feel safe and loved in everything that he does. But there’s a part of me that struggles to get comfortable, wondering if there’s actually supposed to be some other woman laying in my bed watching Drink Masters and enjoying the night air. Should some other women be wearing my ring and driving my car? Am I a stunt double in my own life?

Just in case you forgot how amazing the ring is lmao

It’s really hard to address those feelings when it feels like if it’s not one thing, it’s another fucking thing. It’s my car being delayed, or scrambling to find a job, or my cat being lost. You’re always trying to put out the fire, and you don’t get to navigate your own emotions. That’s been where I’ve been at. I’m not really sure how I feel because I’m not really getting a chance to live, just sort of exist.

But now things are settling down. Tacocat is back and received a clean bill of health from her vet. The kids are going back to school, and I was offered a promotion at my new job. My wedding is under 50 days away, I’m registering at a new gym, and my fiancé and I are finally getting some much needed alone time next week. Life is quieter and it allows me to appreciate that I have the life I have prayed for since I was 19. Three years ago I was so depressed I could barely breathe, and now I have almost everything I could ever ask for. It’s so strange how everything feels hopeless and then one day everything is magical. Maybe one day I’ll actually be able to embrace it and not wonder when the ground will be ripped out from under me.

Thoughts? FeedbackJust want to share ideas or chat? Send me an email or contact me on social media!

Oblivion

It’s so much harder to recover from a nervous breakdown than it was to have one. Going crazy was easy, putting it all back together feels harder than I thought it would be.

It’s easy to find your centre when this is inches from your front yard

It’s been about a month now and I’m slowly finding my new normal in my new surroundings. It’s weird. I don’t have to stress about rent because I live in my own home. But also it doesn’t feel like MY home. I feel like a bit of a squatter who just showed up and now just exists in a space. My sweet angel fiancé told me to do whatever it takes to make the space feel like ours, so I picked out a bunch of furniture to help make our space feel like ours. I can’t wait to arrange our living room and make the space feel like the home I’ve always dreamed of.

I started working, which is nice because I have my own income. It’s a bit of a commute, but I like the drive. It’s a massive pay cut, but I like my coworkers and I’m good at it. I miss my old job; my old colleagues. I loved what I did; it was challenging and engaging. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy what I do at my new job. I think it’ll be a good fit. I really want to do well, and I feel like lamenting that I couldn’t stay with my old company. Part of bouncing back means letting go of things you had to leave behind. This means putting my best foot forward and making this job work. I’m just frustrated because I feel like I’m not contributing. I basically earn enough to cover my bills and car. Once I do that I have about $12. I should be earning more. But then I also feel guilty because I’m not where I used to be. I’m not scratching and clawing for a living. I feel like I should be leaving the sales to the people who need the extra to live because for once, I’m not desperately trying to earn my way.

I miss my friends. I hate missing events. My best friend bought a new house and I won’t get to see it when I fly home to Alberta for my wedding in October. I miss ramen on Sunday mornings, or wings on Saturday night. On the flipside, I love catching up with friends I haven’t seen in years. One of my dearest friends is expecting her first baby and I can’t wait to meet her. I got to sit in a backyard with my best friend from high school and

we just got to talk shit and laugh. Even though it feels sad, there’s a silver lining.

I think the reason it’s been so hard to find my new normal because it’s such a bittersweet time. I love being close to family, but I miss the way things used to be at the same time. My life in Edmonton was incredible, and I miss it so much. I feel like I’m not really a contributor to my household and I want to be an equal and help provide for my newly blended family. But at the same time, I’m really excited about my life here. There’s something so reassuring about laying down beside my fiancé at night. I never used to be a touchy feely person, but he represents a feeling of safety I’ve never had before. I’ve never been with someone who is so devoted to me, our family, and committed to providing and protecting us. I used to be so afraid of committing to someone because the men I had shared a home with before didn’t offer security; just chaos and cruelty. For the first time in my life, there’s a level of security I’ve never had. No walking on eggshells for fear of having to move again. No more walking on eggshells for fear of another relationship turning toxic. He brings this sense of calm that makes me feel like I’m on the right track. Everything with him is so easy. So many people told me “the honeymoon phase will end and shit will get real,” but that didn’t happen. Even though we aren’t living a romance novel where he flies to see me every other month, the butterflies and that feeling that this is the right place never goes away.

I don’t feel like I’m completely back to normal yet, but I’m on my way. Each day I’ll get more comfortable, or I’ll just continue to convince my cats to all become friends like a weirdo

Oh yeah. I have a third cat now

Where the Wild Things Are

Hello from my new home!

After a crazy 30 days of packing, cleaning, and saying goodbye to all of my best friends, I got on a plane with my fiancé, kids, and cats, and flew back to Ontario. We even managed to squeeze in one last trip to Rogers Place to see my beloved Oilers before our Stanley Cup hopes and dreams were dashed.

I’d love to tell you that everything went smoothly and I’m now safely tucked away in my new town and all is well.

LOL I actually had a nervous breakdown.

Kudos to my fiancé and one of my best friends, who had to lead me out of my old house and to the airport with my kids in the backseat and my cats on their laps while I sobbed that the house cleaner didn’t mop the floors and I just wanted to mop my floors and sit in my house for just a few minutes more. I know it was just a rental. But it was my home and I truly wanted to stay there forever. Instead I had to vacate my job and move across the country while my life was completely out of my control. After we arrived at home, I bawled uncontrollably until I finally fell asleep to the sound of my fiancé promising me that our lives together would be magical. The loss of my home and job ruined me in ways no one can imagine. My life is so uncertain. I’m job hunting but I don’t have a position yet. I don’t know when I’ll be getting my things. I don’t know anyone yet and I’m worried about pulling my own weight. I don’t want my partner to have to pay all of our bills. I haven’t figured out how to transfer my mom to a long term care facility in Ontario. Things are uncertain. I don’t like not being in control and nothing is really in my control. So I help out around the house and wait for my car to arrive.

Also I found a kick ass new salon. They aren’t Icon Downtown Edmonton, but they’re really great

But I guess this has been a good lesson for me to learn to surrender control and really allow someone to support me. Even though I’m getting married in the fall, I struggled with letting my partner help and support me. I like doing everything on my own and I hate relying on a man for everything. Now I’m basically as emotionally fragile as a baby bird and the idea of making a decision of any kind sends me into a panic attack, which means my partner has to pick up the slack. He booked the flights, arranged for my car to be shipped to our new hometown, spoke with my former landlords (who again, are wonderful. This situation has been extremely traumatic and heartbreaking, but I am not here for any negativity towards them), and helping us feel comfortable. He had to step up for me while I have been useless. I cry, try to adjust to my new time zone, hunt for jobs, and sleep. Meanwhile he works, assembles furniture, makes dinner, and comforts me while I try to pick up the pieces of my life and figure out how to feel like a member of the family and not a helpless damsel in distress.

I’ve always tried to make sure my life isn’t just a highlight reel and this is no different. I’m not having a good time. I truly loved Edmonton, my home, and my job. I’ve always defined myself by my job, my work ethic and now I don’t have that. I want to contribute to my household and pay bills and have a purpose. I feel very lost and unsure of what to do next. But all is not lost. I have a lot to be grateful for. I live in a beautiful home in a lovely community. I am fortunate that he can support us until I can find work. I have friends in Ontario I’m looking forward to connecting with. I get to go for walks and join a gym and live a healthier lifestyle. My front yard is a beach. There are worse places to land when your life falls apart than a lake house where your partner makes you breakfast in bed and dotes on you while you regain your sanity. So, while things feel broken, eventually I’ll wake up and not feel like I’m two hours behind, and like I’m exactly where I need to be.

People and Things

GUESS WHO IS MOVING AGAIN?!

That’s right!

The fam and I are on the move again!

(Now I know what you’re thinking, bitch we have been over this. Why won’t you stay in one god damn place. You promised us you weren’t gonna randomly move again, what the fuck)

Well let me tell you, it wasn’t the plan! Two months ago I renewed my lease. Five days ago, my landlords let me know they need to sell. The fam and I would have to move. Before I continue, I want to stress there will be no negativity about them. They have been absolutely the most incredible landlords and more people could be like them. They wouldn’t be putting me in this position unless it was an absolute necessity.

But, we are in that position. So, as I frantically get my house ready to show, I’m tired, I’m washing baseboards and walls, and trying to pack and look for something new all at once. I checked the rental market and I would be paying far more than I could afford if I stayed. So, I’ll be moving with my fiancé to our home in Ontario. That’s right folks, I’m actually moving towards something and not away! Someone mark this day down!

Maybe after years of running away and trying this or that, the universe really just wants me to go home. I love Edmonton. It is home to me, but maybe the universe feels differently. The last year has been a happy lesson that you can’t out run what’s meant for you, and maybe this is part of that lesson. For years I’ve run away from my emotions, my feelings, my subconscious fears. I’ve put them in a box and pretended they weren’t real. It worked until my fiancé flew across the country to beg for my affections. He knew all along I was the one, and jokes that it’s not always easy to hit a moving target. Any time I would get too attached, I’d move further away. It’s hard to make someone your wife when they fear commitment and are a bit of a flight risk (which is why he had to ask four times before I finally said yes). But the universe knew we both needed to go on life journeys before we could be together. I needed to find myself away from all of the noise and trauma and I did. The kids and I have evolved into people we like being. I wrote some really great articles. I found my passion for giving back to my community. I learned to stand up for myself and how to advocate for my family. But most importantly, I learned how to do it all on my own. I trusted the journey and I’ve learned the lessons. Maybe now it’s time to go home and start a new journey in a new role as a wife (and whatever job I find in my new town. I can’t bring my Google job. Please someone hire me).

Don’t worry, I genuinely thought about trying to stay or even jetting off to somewhere new. I thought about rural BC (where I could pan for gold or something), maybe another Alberta town. But none of it moved me like it used to. My teenager said that maybe Edmonton wasn’t the reason we did okay. Maybe it was me doing my job as mom and we could do that anywhere, but now I wouldn’t have to work so damn hard. My mom is in long term care and safe. My partner is a successful and intelligent man. We’d finally be a real family with two parents. I wouldn’t be paying rent; I would be living in a home I share with my family. Little pleasures that others take for granted were now a reality; painting bedrooms, planting gardens, hanging up art. No more separation from my partner for weeks on end. Every dream I had for my life since I was 19 was finally going to be a reality because I finally stayed in one place long enough for those dreams to catch up to me. Edmonton has been a magical place where I met my two best friends, I attempted to ski, I found success, and I even finally learned to drive. But now, the universe is telling me that the home I’ve always dreamed of is waiting for me, and it’s time for me to claim it.

I won’t lie; I’m terrified. I haven’t lived with a man for over ten years. What if I’m super set in my ways and won’t budge on anything? What if he doesn’t realize I only like Method cleaning products and I have to sleep on the side of the bed closest to a window? How am I supposed to get through my life without my best friend and ramen? What if the Stanley Cup Finals end after I leave (I’m cutting it close lmao) and I don’t get to see the Oilers win after embracing the local arts and culture? What if I miss city life and I crave traffic? What if I never find a job and I’m just a trophy wife? These are all valid, but I’m sure I had the same fears when I moved here ten years ago! I trusted the process then and I trust it now.

The next three weeks will be a blur, but the next chapter will be magical. It may not have been what I wanted, or maybe when I was ready, but maybe this change is what I need in order to grow as a person, and build a life with the person I’m meant to be with. So thank you Edmonton, for ten incredible years and some of the most magical times of my life. But now it’s time to go home

Friendly reminder that this is now basically my front yard now

Thoughts? FeedbackJust want to share ideas or chat? Send me an email or contact me on social media!

When I Get There

I spent a lot of my life running away from myself.

I spent a long time pretending I just wanted to explore any opportunities that came my way, but the reality is that I just wanted to put space between and all of my trauma and mistakes so I could commit to being the best version of myself for my kids. Other people craved being extraordinary; I just wanted to be normal. All those things people took for granted; parents, a home, healthy interpersonal relationships, mundane lives; I would look at them with envious eyes desperate for them.

I didn’t want to face down all of the things that made me feel broken so I had a plan; just keep on moving. Eventually I’d reach a point where no one really knew who I was and I could be anyone! I didn’t have to be the broken toy with PTSD. I could be something better. So I did that. I pretended the years 19-21 didn’t exist. I moved as far away as I could. I changed my hair and my hobbies and music tastes and became someone I felt could be seen as normal. It’ll totally work, right?

I mean, it did for a bit. I was a completely different person.

I also lost every bit of my strength and character and became a whiny little bitch.

I didn’t like who I was so I decided that no one ever could and kept putting space between myself and the carefully curated version of me that I felt was okay. I stopped listening to fave songs because they reminded me of things I either didn’t want to remember because they were traumatic, or because they were happy times I ached to relive. I spent the last 14 years since my divorce trying to be someone worthy of love and friendship, someone that would be seen as a whole human and not just a fractured person with trust issues and anxiety. So I kept framing and rearranging until I could be someone that I thought I could love. Instead of wanting to be happy, I wanted people to like me. I became a people pleaser and constantly romanticized people who treated me like absolute crap.

But part of marrying your high school sweetheart is that there’s no running from the old you. You’re kind of stuck visiting your hometown and being confronted with all of the memories you long to escape. But there’s also something about healing your past traumas that allows you the space and the grace to accept the love you actually deserve and realize how unhealthy the things you allowed were. For the first time in my life I am loved for exactly who I am, both by myself and by someone else. I don’t feel like I have to pretend to be someone that’s digestible to be happy. Every once in a while I find this part of me and I live my best life, but then something happens and I go back to people pleasing. Maybe I get lonely. Maybe I worry people won’t like me if I just act like my loud, ridiculous, anxious little self. Then I find a new city, and try again to be what people want me to be so people will like me. Soon enough I’m a robot going through the motions until I feel like I don’t even recognize myself anymore.

But this time feels different. Maybe it’s because choosing self love attracted the type of love I’ve always wanted from a companion. My partner loves me for me. He’s seen the best and worst of me and all of my many personas and side quests and he still just loves me. He doesn’t just love me; he respects me, he protects my feelings, he supports me. He compliments me and shows up in a million little ways. There’s something so heartwarming about knowing someone sees you for who you are and still thinks you’re swell. So whenever It makes you evaluate how others treat you, including yourself.

I have talked about my falling out with my former best friend, but I romanticized the Hell out of that relationship. I looked at the good times and not all of the times she mocked my weight (great look from a personal trainer), or told me how I was a good small dose friend, or only called me to vent about how her husband was possibly cheating on her. I even reached out to own my part in why things went south and was met with the same old deflection and zero accountability. I realized how much I’d allowed that over the years. How I’d spent so long feeling like the person I kept running from was somehow unworthy of love or friendship. As I read through her email where she twisted the narrative about how she ghosted me and didn’t do anything wrong ever (even though I’m the one ceased communication, unfollowed and blocked her on social media). Two years ago I would have grovelled and begged for another chance and I would make myself even smaller to please them and feel worthy of a friend, but this time I felt nothing. Not even worth dignifying with a response. I don’t need to settle for friendships where my only purpose is to be a sounding board and a punching bag, and they are nowhere to be found when I need them. I reached out because I was nostalgic for the person I knew and wanted to be friends with that person, but that person doesn’t really exist and deep down I knew it. I don’t wish them ill will; I also don’t want to be friends with them. The response helped me realize that I am finally in a place of healing where I no longer have to beg people to let me take care of them. Now I ask to be an equal in all of my relationships. I’m not ashamed of my upbringing or the trauma of my early adulthood anymore. Maybe now I can finally love the girl I was so I can embrace the woman I am and finally focus only on relationships that honour me, instead of begging for scraps of friendship from people who make me feel like less than.

Thoughts? Feedback? Just want to share ideas or chat? Send me an email or contact me on social media!

Good News

Well y’all, we have reached the end of another year!

As always, since this time of year is the busiest for my work and personal life, I will leave you with a series of photos that showcase my year (without pics of my kids). It’s been a wild ride; I went on some wild adventures, reconnected with some old friends and made some new ones. I finally let go of the end of a friendship that meant the world to me and reached acceptance. I found the love of my life in the same place he’d always been, I just didn’t know that’s where I should look. Said yes to an important question, and then a dress. Watched my younger daughter graduate high school and start her own journey into University. Watched my son come into his own as a high school freshman. This has been the most fun year of my life and I’m so grateful for the experiences. I hope everyone else had a wonderful year, and that 2025 brings us all joy and success.

Evanescence!

I Look In People’s Windows

Sometimes my life feels like it’s going a mile a minute and I don’t get any real time to stop.

I don’t mind the pace of it all. I have morning carpool with the kids, work, visiting my mom in long term care, maintaining a home, and (in theory) planning a wedding. The last one is mainly either procrastinating or crying. I’m the best.

My fiancé and I divided up wedding planning accordingly. He picks the venue, the food, and keeps me from going insane, and I…plan the wedding. Trust me folks, he has a MUCH harder job. So far he has picked a venue and looked at the menu and I half ass built this website and went dress shopping and possibly had some kind of nervous breakdown. So we’ve both accomplished a lot.

Planning a wedding triggers all kinds of emotions. I’ve always been afraid of commitment, even in my youth. My fiancé told me he was going to marry me when we were teens and I LITERALLY LAUGHED AT THIS MAN. My first marriage was a disaster of epic proportions. He didn’t want to get help for his depression; I didn’t want to be there at all. I’m so scared of being trapped in a situation where things just escalate and become violent again. There’s also the income deficit; my partner out earns me by a considerable margin. I’ve always prided myself on being an equal. I spent eight years with a man who made less than me but also made me account for every dollar I spent. I don’t want to be a drain or someone that can’t contribute to her home and family. There’s also ageism and the body image issues. Am I too old for this and should we have just gone to the courthouse? Because of this, I hyper analyze every detail and ask my fiancé if he’s mad at me eleventy thousand times a day.

(Fortunately, my fiancé is a very patient man, because otherwise he’d be driven nuts by now)

Basically, much like everything else in my life, this change has made me an anxious ball of anxiety! However, the one thing that doesn’t scare me is the person I’ve chosen to spend my life with. He is the part that makes sense. I try not to talk about my personal life too much, but everything is easy with him. We communicate well, I trust him implicitly, he’s compassionate and kind, he loves my kids and is excited to blend our families. The idea of spending my life with him is easy; it’s the smartest decision I’ve ever made. It’s not him that makes me fear commitment. It doesn’t even feel like commitment; instead it feels like it’s supposed to be this way. My fear of commitment has nothing to do with him; he’s perfect. My therapist and I have been working on this and we are realizing that my fear of commitment has nothing to do with my partners and everything to do with me.

I have a confession folks; my name is MHC and I have control issues…and abandonment issues…and body image issues…

I grew up believing I would never be able to count on anyone. My mom let me down, my family was dysfunctional, so I decided if I just did everything on my own, then no one could ever hurt me ever again! Also, no one could reject me, or tell me I’m not good enough for them. If I kept to myself, then I couldn’t let them down. If I just accepted that I’m not traditional wife material, then no one would want me to be their wife! Self sabotage; WHAT A BRILLIANT IDEA! I’ve always struggled with gender roles and norms. I never wanted to be the white picket fence wife who made cookies and stayed home to raise a family. I wanted to raise kids, but the rest seemed terrifying. I wanted to have my own career, earn my own money, be an equal. But I grew up with people who made me feel like wanting to be more than that made me somehow less.

This feeling of being less has been growing since I was 19 and a boy told me he was going to marry me someday (kudos to him; he played the long game). Ever since I’ve always worried about disappointing people when they realize I’m not good at traditional wife things, I’m stubborn, I struggle to open up about my feelings, and I’m pretty much neurotic every second. So, I’d pack up my shit and run away again. New town, new adventures, new life where I can just be on my own. However, once you find yourself settled, you start to look introspectively. It was never about how anyone else saw me. It was that I always saw me as a broken toy; damaged by trauma, product of the system, dysfunctional family. I looked at the highlight reels and surface levels and compared it to my own experiences and felt like a stray cat you need to coax inside. Why would anyone want a stray cat when you can get a fantastic Scottish Fold or Himalayan Blue?

All of my fears came from the fear of being judged too harshly for my shitty upbringing, failed marriage, or lack of real estate, but it was really just me judging my own reflection and seeing how I stack against my own demons and phantom women that may haunt my partner’s ceiling. Clever, beautiful women with talent and never talk too much and aren’t ever too loud. If they couldn’t make it work, what chance did I, the stray cat who is too loud and has never stopped talking, have?

Part of getting over my fears of commitment is actually fully accepting myself and accepting that someone is capable of loving me. It’s a slow process, with a ton of procrastinating and a fuck ton of therapy, but if I keep working at it, maybe I’ll have something planned by my wedding day, which has a date set because at least one of us knows what they’re doing.

Remembering Sunday

Isn’t life rad?

Summer 2024 is behind us and now it’s time for me to BOMBARD YOUR ASS WITH PUMPKIN AND SPOOKY CONTENT. GET READY BITCHES.

Anyone who knows me knows basic white fall is basically my personality. Pumpkins, leaves, red lip, and of course, Halloween. This means that it’s time for my annual viewing of the Nightmare Before Christmas, starring my one true love; Jack Skellington. Yes, I am basically a relic from Hot Topic. Fight me.

But, fall also means my birthday, which always makes me a bit more introspective and reflective, but don’t worry; the overthinking and general neurosis remains. I was ordered to plan something for my birthday because my sweet angel fiancé understands that I have an unhealthy obsession with birthdays stemming from a childhood that was devoid of love and the first time anyone I considered family celebrated my birthday was when I went into foster care. If I like you, there is a million percent chance I have gone buck wild about your birthday at least once. Unfortunately, he won’t be able to celebrate with me until ten days later, but he still wants me to be happy. I haven’t celebrated my birthday in almost three years, so I’m excited to have some friends over to play games and drink wine.

The last two years have been some of the most challenging and transformative of my entire life. I was tested emotionally, physically, and financially, to the point where I genuinely believed I would lose everything. I devoted every second of my life to protect someone I loved from their darkest urges and was afraid to leave them alone for a second. My job was ripped out from under me as I was on the cusp of building a way to do good for people who need it, and I was drowning in debt. My health was poor and I missed the wedding of one of my closest friends. I gained all of the weight I worked to lose. My mom was diagnosed with dementia and I was a full time caregiver with no help from my family. I genuinely had days where I just didn’t want to wake up anymore and it was only muscle memory keeping me going. But life has a way of pulling you forward to the light if you just believe that you can get there.

And I did.

No, I haven’t lost all of the weight. I’m 44lbs down and halfway to where I want to be again. No, I am not a zillionaire, I don’t have a pet penguin, money is still tight, and woodland creatures do not clean my house.

But I DO have a job that I love, my two youngest children are starting amazing educational adventures and I’m so proud of them. I have myself back, and that’s in part to a small but amazing group of friends who stayed in the trenches with me until the bitter end, and I’m so grateful for them.

There’s my best friend in the entire universe, who has been by my side during the bleakest moments of the last two years. She drove my kid to the hospital while I was stuck in Red Deer. She was the only person who came to a holiday party, even though she had been in a serious accident the day before. She gave me a pep talk when her attempt to fix me up went poorly, telling me that I deserved someone who would move mountains for the privilege of loving me. I don’t know where I’d be without her, and while she would tell you she is evil, I would tell you everything she’s ever done is right and good.

We also need updated selfies lol

There’s my best friend since high school, who was my lifeline during the darkest times. She helped me understand my own kid better, and always had an ear. We didn’t get a pic this summer, but spending time with her and her family was one of the most magical parts of my summer. It was like nothing changed; we just sat and chatted, all we needed was coffee. She’s the level headed voice of reason I need when I let my emotions rule. I’m so grateful for her. There’s my former manager who’s become one of my friends. We communicate in memes, but I know if I ever need a friend (or a Nanalan meme) he’s right there.

There’s my other closest friend, who is a literal angel on Earth. She’s the most patient, empathetic, and understanding human being I know. She shares all of my nerdy interests and she’s so positive and warm, you can’t leave spending time with her and not feel happy. It’s just not possible.

It’s so easy to distance yourself from someone when they’re struggling. I had friends that I assumed would always be a part of my life, now we watch the other’s life play out on social media and she messages my fiancé her well wishes instead of being invited to my celebratory dinner or helping me plan my wedding. It’s so easy to ignore texts or pretend you don’t know someone anymore when they’re down and they aren’t able to do anything for you, or build you up. But my small circle didn’t do that. They pulled me closer during a time when I didn’t even want to exist. Now I’m on the other side of it all, in my beautiful house in my favourite city, with my incredible family and cats, professionally and personally fulfilled. I look at my life now and I’m filled with gratitude for the people who were there for me during the absolute worst of times, and now I get to celebrate so many happy things with them; birthdays, holidays, Vegas, and when I marry the man of my dreams. We get to celebrate milestones our kids achieve, and I’m just so grateful that they like me enough to put up with me.

I’m due for another spin around the sun, and for the first time in a long time, I’m so excited to celebrate what’s to come. The future just feels warm and bright, and I can’t wait to see what fall 2024 brings for everyone I love.

The Manuscript

It’s funny how things fall into place when they’re supposed to.

After years of randomly uprooting my life, I’ve finally seemed to find my home. With home comes stability for my family. With stability comes my job. For those of you who aren’t aware of how much I love my job, well trust, I love my damn job. GUYS THEY PAY ME TO TALK ALL DAMN DAY! AND I GET COOL SWEATERS!

Marvel at all of my hair

In all seriousness, my job gives me an incredible sense of fulfillment. I love teaching people and helping them grow their skills. It’s so exciting to me, and I think I’ve found something that I’m truly good at. Nothing brings me more joy than when I get to prattle on and on about what I do for a living. My job isn’t even a job. It’s fun! I genuinely love going to work every second of my life. But with stability and purpose comes fulfillment. I don’t say peace, because my life is generally chaotic as I raise kids and take care of my elderly mother, so nothing is really easy. But there is a sense of serenity that comes from knowing you’re on the right track.

I’ve never been on the right track before. I always jumped the tracks before I really knew. I left cities, relationships, jobs, etc. But abandoning the nomad life for a house in the suburbs has helped me find myself a bit more. I talk to my neighbours. I go running again. I feel at peace in my life. I’ve even lost 30 lbs. Having peace with my home and my job made it easier to consider sticking a toe back into dating.

As y’all know, I gave up on dating late last year when I went on a date with the human equivalent of Reddit. The only positives were that my salad was really good, and I looked fantastic.

See?

I deleted my dating apps shortly after and gave up. I took a long look at my life and realized that maybe I’m not cut out for relationships. I’m pretty set in my ways, I’m commitment phobic, I run away from my problems and I will always put my kids, cats, and job first. I’m also neurotic af and will always worry that some poor dude is mad at me or will leave. Also, my taste in men is BAD. GUYS IT IS SO BAD. I dated my own stalker…TWICE! If you’ve met my ex husband, you’d realize the stalker was an upgrade. My love life is littered with Mr. Wrong, Mr. Abuser, and Mr. Stalker; no thanks man. It seemed like I was destined to die alone with my cats, and I was actually pretty good with that.

Friendly reminder that my cats are often sick of my shit

Before I decided “down with love,” I always used to joke that someday I’ll write a book about my love life called “what in the fuck is even happening?” I’d change some names so my ex husband doesn’t try to claim royalties, and I could cast Billie Eilish to play high school me in the movie. The only problem was that the book had no ending. After I deleted all of the apps, my kids (who decided I needed to get back out there) asked about my idea, and I told them I’d need some kind of ending, but “and she lived with her cats,” didn’t feel like the feel good ending of the year. A story of one woman’s constant need to pick the worst possible outcome should have one ending where she got it right, n’est pas?

But like I said, things have a funny way of working out in just the right time, and in just the right way. Around the same time as I had deleted the cesspool known as tinder, I was also feeling my oats at work and in life. For the first time in a long time, I felt like my family was in a good place, I was mostly financially stable, and I regularly got ramen with my best friend. Now that I’m removed from a situation, I realize that maybe some people were dragging me down, as they only wanted to talk to me when they wanted to vent about their own misery. I was a fine sounding board when they thought their husband was cheating or that they didn’t look good in shorts, but never for a night out or laughs. As the black cloud of devastation faded, I realized that I was well rested and happier and much more confident than I had been in years.

That particular day, we were launching some new products at work and I was pretty pleased with my training methods. The teams seemed really excited and I felt like I was really good at this. I was actually just finishing up a really great event when my phone rang. I rarely check my personal phone at work, but I was done my work day and wondered if it was one of my kids. It was not. It was one of my best friends/former high school boyfriend, whom I hadn’t spoken to in a year, save for one rushed conversation two days after my birthday. The conversation picked up like it always did, and two hours later it was like no time had passed. Before long, two hour chats were happening every day. Six months later, I was meeting him at the airport. By the time we went back to the airport for him to resume the Homer Simpson life, the conversation had changed. The “love ya” had changed to “I love you,” and carried more weight. The looks lasted longer. Things weren’t the same anymore and there was no going back. There was also no leaving my house and job. What’s a gal to do, besides figure it out as one goes.

Maybe the reason that the tale known as “what the fuck is even happening here?” Didn’t have an ending is because I didn’t know where to look. It wasn’t on Tinder, or in my marriage, or dating my own stalker (twice). It wasn’t on my own as the cat lady, although I’m never ruling that one out. The reason I couldn’t find the happy ending was because it was all the way back at the very beginning of the story. It was nestled in the nostalgia of young love and senior prom, where romance turned to friendship. It was trapped in the past behind near misses and stolen moments and finally when we told each other, “I met someone,” and the response was overwhelming happiness for the other. But what is meant for you will always be yours and after two divorces, a crap ton of therapy (for both of us), and a few years of space, it seemed like the answer was clear.

Continued reminder that my cats are so done with my shit

Of course, I still made sure to make the most complicated decision. Neither of us can leave our jobs and my family and I have a life in the mountains. Also, I’m obsessed with my house. For the first time ever, a relationship of mine is hampered by my boundary to not move anywhere. Any mention of a long term future results in my asking “why” 37 times in a row. I still sometimes wonder if he’s lost his mind and realizes he could do better than a neurotic workaholic that cries a lot (but is so productive). But, for the first time ever, I don’t wonder when the shoe is gonna drop, or measure every move to protect my heart and ego. Maybe it’s because I have my own life and my person; as well as the space to navigate all of the fears and insecurities that one had when they’ve only been in one healthy relationship in their entire life. Either way, for the first time in forever, I feel very fulfilled in every aspect of my life; personally, professionally, as a parent, and as a person. Everything happens for a reason, and my reasons seem to have fallen into place, even if I don’t really understand how it all worked out perfectly without my even trying.

Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

Happy December!

As is tradition, I’m posting my year in review. It’s been a transformative year. I travelled, I learned lessons, I enjoyed a new job; it was a struggle and a joy all at once. I bought my youngest daughter a prom dress. I learned that sometimes people who say you’re their best friend actually only want you around when it benefits them, and then you’ll get kicked to the curb as soon as you expect reciprocation for the support they’ve always gotten from you. I’ve learned that the best people can return to your life like no time has passed. I’ve learned that love is where you look for it, and rarely on Tinder haha. And I’ve learned that even the smallest person can overcome truly dark and debilitating things if they have people that love them. So take care of yourselves this holiday, and best wishes for 2024!

As is tradition, a Super Bowl cake explaining why Tom Brady sucks