Welcome to the Show

It’s been a weird few weeks. 

I haven’t really felt like blogging. I’ve been writing, as I’ve been working hard at the magazine as I AM GETTING ASSIGNED STORIES AGAIN! But I didn’t feel like blogging. I even pulled the app from my phone for a bit. I’m all about being more selective about what I share with people. Even my close friends aren’t learning as much about my life. I guess I’m internalizing a bit. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think there are people who use my blog to figure out my mood, etc. instead of actually communicating with me & I’m kind of over that. But I really wanted to share this tale of how strong women inspire strong women & maybe it’ll motivate other strong women. 

But I’m losing the plot a little bit. Hold on, let me back up the train a bit. 

  

This week, my girls were talking about heroes & women who inspire them. I’m always interested to see who catches their attention & motivates them. For my oldest daughter, it was Sasha Banks. 

  
My teen daughter has made it no secret that she wants to become the youngest WWE  Women’s Champion in history. She’s also been told by her father, grandfather, and maternal grandmother that she can’t. She’s lazy. She’s selfish. Spoiled. So she’ll never make it. However, she keeps on training. Working on her athletics in gym & her theatrics in drama class so she can become that girl that has her moment. I always remind her that for every AJ Lee & Sasha Banks, there are hundreds of little girls that didn’t make it, so she’s gotta put in the work Sasha & AJ did. I tell her that she’s capable and while I fully intend to be at ringside when she wins that title, it’s always good to have a university education in case of injury. Last week, Sasha Banks showcased her Wrestlemania Diary, where she revealed a journal where 10 year old Mercedes (Sasha’s real name) wrote about her dreams to become the WWE Women’s Champion. Last Sunday, my eldest child, decked out in her Legit Boss gear, got teary when the opening notes of her favourite’s music hit and as Sasha Banks got her moment, she said “Sasha did it, and in a few years, that’ll be me.”

  
Regardless of the outcome of the match (which pissed off every one of my kids), Sasha Banks inspired many little girls who are told that they can’t, like my daughter, so she should be proud of what she accomplished. Much like little Mercedes looked up to her heroes, in a few years, my daughter will describe how Sasha Banks walking to the ring helped inspire her. That’s gotta be amazing. 

Later this week, I introduced my daughters to THE GREATEST CINEMATIC EPIC OF OUR TIME; Legally Blonde. My 9 year old, whom we call the Overlord called me at work to tell me;

“MOMMY. ELLE AND THE DOGGY SAVED THE LADY AND WON THE CASE AND SHE DID IT ALL BY HERSELF AND THEN TOLD THE JERK BOY TO GO SCREW HIMSELF. SHE IS AWESOME.”

I take flack for loving Elle as much as I do, but she’s pretty bad ass. She got into Harvard Law all by herself. And she became a lawyer all by herself. She didn’t hold it against Vivian that they fought for the same guy, because he didn’t deserve either of them. And Elle just wanted to make the world better for people. She kind of rules. The Overlord kind of wants to be a lawyer…and I need to watch my language, as screw yourself shouldn’t be in a kid’s vocabulary. 

  

 And my youngest daughter told me this week that I’m her hero. Because Mommy writes for a magazine & moved to a Cow Province to be the best writer & sells phones & works hard & gives hugs & takes her to Zootopia & does crossfit & I would never blow up her planet like Darth Vader blew up Princess Leia’s planet. It was kind of cool.

  
But it reminded me why I need to make sure that I’m being my best self every single day, as there are little people who are watching me. Little people watch how you treat people, how you carry yourself, how hard you work & emulate you. While its great that Sasha Banks & Elle Woods inspire my kids to become champions & dog toting lawyers, I’m the one they see every day. I need to be the bad ass woman that conquers the planet, works hard, and treats people well. I’m the one who will teach them what kind of woman they want to be. I don’t want them to be like me; they will accomplish far more than I will, but my character sets that blueprint. I need to make it a good one. 

  
So, the lesson here is, never be afraid to be the best version of you. You never know who is watching.

  

Begin Again From The Beginning

For the last five years, I have revelled living on my own. I like that my space is my own; I decorate, I’m responsible for it, it’s MINE. But I have to admit that lately, I don’t like living alone. 

I chose my house without viewing it. I keep telling myself that it’s just one year & in the summer, I’ll find a place in a better neighbourhood. My commute home has been dangerous sometimes, with me texting friends expressing fear that I was going to get hurt. Then, my teen daughter ran an errand for me (a friend was supposed to go with her) & she was nearly robbed.  After we filed the police reports & I asked my friends how to break my lease to find a safer home, my daughter expressed how much she wished we didn’t live alone, because we’d be safer if my boyfriend were here full time. And I won’t lie; there are nights I get home from work & wish he was there because I would feel safer if he were. 

  
I kind of feel like I failed as a parent. Parents protect their kids. My child was in danger & I indirectly put her there by asking her to run an errand. Yes, she did the right things. She called the police. She ran. She screamed for help. Most of her anguish stemmed from the passer by’s ignoring her pleas for help. She didn’t lose anything of value, but she’s lost a little bit of that innocence. Suddenly, she’s felt like every other woman has felt at some point. The police asked her why she didn’t give the muggers her phone, did she call attention to her device? She was being forced to apologize for being victimized. She was forced to learn the reality that women are often forced to explain why they didn’t deserve to be victimized more than why the bad people shouldn’t be attacking people. There was her loss of security. My daughter started looking up dogs on kijiji, big ones (we found this one. We have the perfect name for it!). Despite my firm belief in gun control, I suddenly wanted a gun. Or a husband. Or all three. I just don’t feel safe in my neighbourhood anymore. I don’t feel like my kids are safe & for the first time in five years, I worry if a single mom living alone with three young girls & a cat is a target for stranger danger. I fully intend to move when my lease is up, maybe sublet this place in the interim, but right now, I worry about us going out at night. 

*Mama Bear is also in full “let me find these people & cut a bitch” mode, but that’s not constructive & I’ll let the police handle it*

  
I guess I just hate that my kid had to discover that the world can be a scary place for a woman at the young age of 14. I hate that the police asked if her dad was home, so she & her mom wouldn’t have to be alone in the house, as ladies shouldn’t be left alone. But mostly, I wish neither of us felt like we wanted a man to be here to protect us, but we both do. I have never wanted my boyfriend to be here at night than I do right now, because somehow, the physical nearness of him would make this alright (she insisted on calling him tonight, as he would make this okay somehow). 

But instead, tomorrow we will learn the importance of reclaiming control. She is not a victim; she is a bad ass. And she will not hide in her house afraid that someone will hurt her. We will do the shopping. We will live our lives. She will not let anyone who does her harm have power over her & direct her life with fear. Obviously, we have a plan about her going out at night (which is rare), but we’ll need to be more mindful. Her faith in humanity has taken a hit, but hopefully, in time, it’ll be restored. Sadly, every woman has that moment when they realize the world isn’t as safe as they’d hoped it was. She will bounce back. 

In the interim, both of us (sadly) feel like damsels in distress, wishing we had someone here to protect us tonight. 

  

 

My Reply

Sometimes I read stuff & get cranky & pull a Peter Griffin & play “What Really Grinds My Gears.”

  
Today’s edition: why women are catty bitches & I’m so over it. 

Last night, I watched the Golden Globes because I have worked as an entertainment reporter for many years & I like pretty dresses God dammit. I could comment on the show, Ricky Gervais, but instead, I’ll address why women are catty bitches & why it drives me nuts. 

Actor (& super hunk if you ask all of my friends) Jason Statham & his girlfriend of five years, Rosie Huntington-Whitely announced their engagement at the event last night, with full attention on Ms. Huntington-Whitely’s sparkly new bauble. As always, the comments on this story included why Statham, 48, shouldn’t be dating Huntington-Whitely, 28, because the age difference is gross & of course, why the ring was too small, ugly, etc. I’m sure Ms. Huntington-Whitely cares so much that random women online hate her ring, but it was sad to see few positive well wishes, just women taking shots on another woman. Similar things happened when photos of Blake Lively’s engagement & wedding ring hit the Internet, only that ring was too big, gaudy & why was it pink?! Kevin Costner was forced to address the price tag of the ring he chose for his wife Christine Baumgartner (Joan Rivers famously made Baumgartner cry by mocking her ring, prompting her husband to purchase her a much larger one). But why does it matter to the masses? Unless Ryan Reynolds or Jason Statham is buying you an engagement ring, it doesn’t matter. Those rings are gifts from them to their wives, maybe we should back off. Even on FB, I see people snarking at women about the size of their wedding rings, their homes, their Pinterest crafts. No building each other up, just a sick game of one up-manship. Why? I know when the time comes, I wouldn’t care what my boyfriend bought me, or if it met my “dream ring” criteria (if I really had that. I’m so indifferent hahaha). If he picked it out for me, it could be a garbage tie & to me, it would be the most beautiful thing on the planet because he bought it for me & wanted to marry me & much like thee women, I wouldn’t even notice the cattiness. 

 

We live in a society where wage inequality is still a thing, women’s rights are being marginalized in my neighbour’s land, Planned Parenthood is under attack. Women are still being forced to choose between career & family & told to “keep their legs closed” to prevent sexual assault or unwanted pregnancy. Girls are sent home because their clothing might distract boys, we blame women for their own sexual assaults & child support gets clawed back, leaving women in a cycle of poverty. Meanwhile, instead of taking up for one another, we are belittling each other for things that don’t matter & superficial bullshit that means nothing at the end of the day so women can feel like they’ve “topped” each other. Women are even attacking each other for such things as feeding their babies, as Alyssa Milano learned when talk show host Wendy Williams (who made headlines when she claimed actress Jennifer Lawrence deserved to have her privacy violated and her private nude photos leaked online last year) told her that breastfeeding should not be done in public, as breasts are meant for sexual enjoyment. Ms. Milano shut her down, by why are women constantly defending their basic rights or things that should bring them joy…to other women?

Even when women are successful, we tear them down. Look at the comments about Taylor Swift representing the wrong type of feminist because of her friends. They build each other up, celebrate their uniqueness. So, we cattily tear them apart for being friends because they’re too pretty, they’re models, etc. Okay. 

 I don’t compete with other women. I teach my daughters that we don’t compete with other women. I compete with myself to be a better woman. When I see women belittling other women, I often wonder why they are so insecure that they can’t celebrate the achievements of other women. Women wonder why we’re still fighting the same battles, it’s because of us. We’re attacking each other! Either because we’re the wrong type of feminist, or because they fed their kid or they may possibly have something you don’t. If women spent half as much time building each other up as you did questioning if they understood what feminism means to you or snarking about looks, fashion, etc. women’s rights wouldn’t be something we were still fighting for. 

  
I’m sorry for the rant, but I guess I’m sick of seeing women have their joy trampled by catty women, women who should be supporting other women, famous or not. Perhaps if you can’t be nice, maybe you should just be quiet. 

  

Confident

Every once in awhile, I read a news story online & it really grinds my gears. 

  
Over the weekend, Ayesha Curry, wife of NBA star Stephen Curry (and more importantly, mom of viral video sensation Riley Curry) took to Twitter to lament about women’s fashion, saying she preferred to “keep it classy” & women should “keep the good stuff covered up.”

  
Naturally, the Internet exploded, with women attacking Mrs. Curry for her opinion, prompting model Chrissy Teigan & Khloe Kardashian to rush to her defense. While I don’t think verbally assaulting Mrs. Curry was the best way to go, it once again introduces the conversation about why women (& men!) think it is perfectly acceptable to tell women what to wear. 

I’m going to be super up front; I wear whatever the eff I want. Unless I am at work, I have tops that show cleavage & after I lose that last 30lbs I’m needing to drop, I am going to wear short shorts. I’ve read all the articles that women over 30 shouldn’t wear such things but too bad, random blogger, I’m going to wear whatever I want. I earn my money, I buy my clothes, I’ll wear what I want. As the mom of three daughters, I teach them about time & place. Cut off shorts are not for school. Tank tops with spaghetti straps are not for work. The list goes on. I pick my battles with my teen daughter so she knows while it’s important to express ourselves with our clothes, we also need to be mindful of age appropriate (she’s 14) & school/work appropriate. But it drives me nuts that women are taught that we choose our clothes to impress men or appease women. I don’t choose my clothing to impress my boyfriend. He best be impressed by my mind, my tenacity, who I am. How I look should be a bonus. 

  
 But Mrs. Curry furthered the belief that women have the right to tell other women what to wear like it’s any of their business. You know who you are, the ones who yell at the girl in the mini skirt to put her vagina away, or post the memes about keeping your bits & pieces covered. Why does it matter to you? If that’s not your personal style, don’t wear it. Maybe they like feeling sexy without relying on a man to tell them. Why is it that women are told to dress to impress men, but not offend women. No one would tell a man walking down the street to keep his tits covered. No, when he strips down, it’s hot! Much like when Miley Cyrus was vilified for posing topless, but Nick Jonas praised for posing hugging his junk, women need to stop trying to control other women’s bodies and ordering them to fall in line with their level of morality. 

One’s clothing does not measure their level of class. I have friends who dress in a way that flaunts their figure that carry themselves with more dignity than those who tell them to cover up. Class is how you treat others, how you carry yourself. Instead of worrying about how that woman in the miniskirt is dressed, maybe think about what you’re putting out there. Have you helped others? Have you been kind? Have you been judgmental or rude? Do you use profanity (something I’m VERY guilty of)? Are you carrying yourself in a way that you want your children to emulate? Because none of those values are determined by a hemline. 

I wonder how Mrs. Curry would feel if people told her how to dress her young daughters, or if she was upset when strangers weighed in on her parenting when she taught Riley how to do the “whip, nae nae” dance earlier this year. She was probably very upset and thought people should think before they speak. Maybe she can do the same next time she feels the need to degrade her fellow women & focus on building each other up, not tearing down by equating clothing with character. 

  

My Heart is the Worst Kind of Weapon

Let me tell you a little story. 

I go to the same Tim Horton’s every single day because Canada. Every day a well dressed man holds the door open & proceeds to flirt with me. I politely tell him I have a boyfriend & I’m not interested & maybe go away. So, today, this happened;

  
Because naturally “no” means “please sir, grab my ass.” Duh. 

I’ve always considered myself a feminist, but I also understand that I suck at it. While I believe that all women deserve equal pay & treatment, I also sort of victim blame. I’ve lost a lot of weight & I am confident in my skin (I’m still trying to lose that last 15lbs so I’m in the normal range of the BMI). One of the things that frustrates me is the lack of fitness lately because I pride myself on getting in shape. But I also know I dress in a manner that some men catcall. I believe you can wear whatever you want & you shouldn’t be catcalled, but I also understand I’m in the minority. I play up my cleavage, I wear tight ass pants. I know I’ll get attention, both positive & negative, but let me make one thing clear, you DO NOT EVER TOUCH ME. 

  
I’m not touchy feely on a good day. I don’t like people hugging me (unless we are close friends or I gave birth to you), so I especially do not want some creepy bastard putting his hands on me. But then I got thinking, maybe the creepy bastard doesn’t actually realize he’s a creepy bastard! So, I decided to help. Here’s a helpful list of rules to help you for future dealings with me (or any other woman):

1. Do not EVER touch me. 

2. In case of any confusion, please see rule number one. 

3. Repeat rule number one. 

4. My name isn’t baby. I am not a baby, and even if I was, I most certainly not your baby. 

5. My name isn’t sweetie, pumpkin or honey. Those are foods. 

6. My parents gave me a name. Stick with that (the only exception to this rule is that my boyfriend calls me Dollface sometimes. But I’m sure we all have friends who call us by a nickname). 

7. If you had a daughter, would you want a strange man interacting with her the way you are treating me right now? If not, don’t do it. If you don’t have a daughter, you have a sister or a mom. Would you like it if a random stranger slapped her in the ass? 

8. The friend zone isn’t real. If you choose to remain friends with a woman after she’s declined your advances, then you made your choice. A woman doesn’t owe you anything because you listened to her or were a good friend except a thank you. 

It’s not hard guys. It’s about basic respect. I shouldn’t have to have my boyfriend with me every second to keep you from hitting on me (and just so we’re clear, had he been there today, it would have played out the same, because he respects my desire to take care of myself. He probably would have laughed at the creeper limping away covered in tea. That’s about it) & I’m sure every woman feels the same way. I’ve heard the best pick up line is not acting like a total douche. Try it sometime. 

  

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.