She Ain’t You

This week has been super crappy. But also very therapeutic.

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As I packed up Target Mobile into boxes & shipped it all back to head office, I paused for a moment & burst into tears. The overwhelming enormity of what was happening, which I ignored because I had it under control hit me; while I had a job, my friends, my coworkers, they weren’t set. They had families too. My heart was breaking for them. Then, as I do, I took a deep breath & kept going. I also took this time of upheaval to be the sassiest bitch to rude guests. My coworkers joked about how I had become Squidward. I regret nothing.

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I pulled some strings & start my new job on Tuesday. I’m getting a generous severance (although I haven’t been fully explained the details just yet, but if my former boss says its generous, it must be) & I’m going to use it to plan a nice little trip for myself once I’m done training. I’m calling it a friend vacation, where my girlfriends & I are going to enjoy some R&R. I need that. I’m still not 100% happy MHC, but I’ve managed to feel better.

One of the things I’ve had to do is remind myself that the life I want may not be part of the plan (my hippie friend is so proud). That job was a stepping stone to a better job. This new job is a great Johnny punch clock job but my future as a writer awaits if I ever feel comfortable writing again (It’s just easier to let people know en masse what was up with this sitch). I need to keep trusting that the universe knows where I belong & it’ll happen when the time is right & enjoy the moment I’m in.

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 But in order for change to happen, you need to change what you’re doing. I used to write obsessively about nothing when I’m hurting. So, now I write almost nothing & I’ll continue to write nothing until I feel okay. There are reasons I stopped & until I feel okay about them, I’ll just stay quiet. I always tell my best friend that I’m an emotional eater who makes bad life choices. But am I really gonna undo 100lbs of hard work because I lost my job? NO. So, while there were slip ups, I stuck to eating right & when I felt stressed, I grabbed my Stratusphere yoga DVD & FitGloves & found some zen. I went to my crossfit classes & improved my personal best for overhead squats. I can lift heavier, that’s progress. Progress is rad. Moping when bad shit happens or choosing not to deal with emotions (aka the old MHC way) won’t get me to the next phase in my awesome journey known as my wacky life. So, I changed how I cope. I had a huge cry. I texted Erica & Paul & the Psych Major & Damanda & freaked out. They listened without judgment because they’re the best. I ate a large pizza. I listened to Flight by Lifehouse 100 times in a row. I wrote my most raw feelings in a password protected post. Then I got up off my ass & worked out. Endorphins cure all. Suddenly, things didn’t feel so shitty anymore. This morning, things felt optimistic & bright. That couple of days of saying goodbye to my job & my coworkers were hard. But now, it’s time for the next chapter.

Maybe that’s the lesson in life; while people travel with you, there’s always a next chapter. There’s always the next job, the next adventure. There’s always the next lesson. While I don’t believe that should be applied to people, it does apply to events & this one is over & the last two months haven’t been the most awesome, but I bet the next two will be. Why? Because I said so. There is a new job, new coworkers & a really cute pair of jeans I bought a size too small so I could work to fit in them. All of these things will be exciting & I’m looking forward to them all.

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Blank Space

Because my life will not be allowing me to do a lot of writing for the foreseeable future (sigh), I’m adding my annual “year in photos” early!

This year was amazing. Full of lessons & beginnings & endings & new challenges & growth & it was another year that I got closer to being the most amazing MHC that I can be. So, as always, I’m going to post snippets of my year, the things that meant most to me & my daughters (that do not include photos of my daughters) & I hope you enjoy them.

While ASH Multimedia may be on hiatus for a bit, as I have two jobs, three kids, & an event to train for. I’m also not in the right headspace to be writing. My heart isn’t in writing right now, I keep deleting posts because I don’t feel comfortable sharing them, so I’m gonna stop. I hope you know how much I love all of you reading my garbage. It means the world to me. Thanks for that. I hope I made you smile as much as knowing you read it made me happy. Always be happy. That’s the big lesson in life.

Happy holidays from me!

MHC’s 2014!

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My favourite electronics teammate gives me team cards in Italian!
My favourite electronics teammate gives me team cards in Italian!
The view from my new home.
The view from my new home.
My daughter knows me so well.
My daughter knows me so well.

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Queen!
Queen!
The Prismatic world tour made my life better.
The Prismatic world tour made my life better.

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I don't post photos of my daughters, but they were very excited for "Bellaslam."
I don’t post photos of my daughters, but they were very excited for “Bellaslam.”
Ed Sheeran made all of my dreams come true
Ed Sheeran made all of my dreams come true

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The talented Gavin Michael Booth, my first movie review in so long!
The talented Gavin Michael Booth, director of Scarehouse! My first movie review in so long!

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Even though I won’t be updating ASH Multimedia for a bit, you can still follow my adventures on Twitter & Tumblr! It’s mostly positive & happy gibberish, but enjoy all the same & thanks again for being so rad.

– MHC

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Into the Nothing

I write about my life with pretty candid honesty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Wonderland

I’m a weird people watcher.

I work retail & in media so I spend a lot of time observing people, sometimes so much so that I seem in my own little world. The conclusion that I reach most often is that people are stupid. But other times some of the stuff they say & do (that is probably stupid) makes me question the world around me & where our priorities are.

Today, two University students (I figured this out thanks to their Western sweaters & constant references to attending university. I’m guessing they’re freshmen) were complaining about their friend & how she was “totally wasting her time on that guy.” They stated that the couple was not listed as “in a relationship” on FB & there’s only one photo of them together on her phone, and she only mentions him sometimes, etc. This clearly meant it wasn’t going to work. After rolling my eyes back into my head so far that I saw my own brain, it made me wonder just how dependent we are on social media for instant validation & gratification.

I have a lot of social media. You can find me on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr & Instagram. I post a lot of pics of my kids, inspirational quotes that make me happy, selfies, and song lyrics. Also, if you follow me on Tumblr you’ll find out I have a huge crush on WWE superstar Seth Rollins. Also, I’m kind of awkward & weird. Riveting stuff. But you’ll find very little about my “real life”, except for that time I inadvertently posted my home address on the internet. My friendships & relationships aren’t any less important to me because I don’t openly discuss it or post every detail about it on social media. I have only had a relationship status on FB once. I don’t have a relationship status & I have no real plans to ever change that. My best friend the Psych Major doesn’t even have a Facebook account. Does that mean that she doesn’t exist? (then I remember her obsession with Pinterest, so yes, yes she does)

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I post a lot of photos of me & my children because my family lives far away & I know they’d want to see the girls. Also, I’m a proud mom. But I always think the best nights ever & the best friendships/relationships are the ones not all over social media. If you’re enjoying the company, the activity, etc. You’re likely not on social media. I always feel like those who go all gooey on social media are overcompensating for a lack of happiness or comfort in the relationship. This obviously doesn’t apply to everyone, as my good friend Nancy from Whispered Inspirations will randomly get all gooey about her husband & I often joke that they were only put on Earth to make other couples jealous. But I always wonder why we need to publicly announce we’re with someone, we’re in love, we’re so cute, etc. Are we trying to convince our FB friends or ourselves?

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This is just another part of the evolution of old MHC to new MHC. Why? Because Old MHC was social media girl, who shared way too much about her life. New MHC realized I was posting my entire life on social media to prove I was enjoying it more than I was. The only parts that I wasn’t documenting were my relationship with my significant other (aside from my 900 photos of our respective children) & spending time with the Psych Major & her son. Oddly enough, those were the parts where I was most comfortable & myself. Once I stopped trying to prove I was happy on social media, I started actually being happy. I was enjoying friends & family & events. There are still photos on social media, but those are generally concerts, big events, or random weirdness, not “every time we hang out look I love my friends while I status that I love my friends omg life is so rad”. Instead, I’m actually interacting with the people who took the time to interact with me.

The old MHC wanted some kind of public validation from the men I was with because that meant I was in a secure relationship. New MHC doesn’t need that because I know if I ever did feel insecure, I can tell my beau & he’ll alleviate my concern because he cares about me & wants me to be as happy as I try to make him. Old MHC thought that this type of validation meant that the man I was with was proud of me. New MHC realized that when a man is proud of his lady he spends time with her, makes an effort for her & his actions match his words. That matters most. Old MHC would have done the FB creep to figure out if the man I am currently with seemed more invested in other girlfriends to assess if that meant he did or didn’t care about me. New MHC doesn’t give an eff. He’s with me now & that’s the most important thing. What he did for me in the past or for another girl matters not; what matters is how he treats me in the present tense. New MHC also adopted a format that I’ve applied to every important aspect of my life; what is mine is MINE. It is not yours to dissect online. It is not yours to judge. It is mine & I intend to keep it mine. But this doesn’t just apply to my love life. This applies to everything in my life. I do not talk about my job, my career plans (well, I talk about my writing, but that’s because it’s my true love). I do not talk about my home. I do not talk about my relationships with my friends. I do not talk about relationships with my mother, my siblings, etc. I mostly discuss random observations & kid cuteness…and my cat. Sorry it’s not so awesome.

The other major reason that I do not talk about my life in an open setting is because those who mean most to me read my blog & follow me on social media & I do not want them to learn about my feelings through my blog or social media accounts. I want them to learn about my life through me. Back in the day, people did this thing called “communicate” & as I never shut up, I’m a huge fan! I think about my own parents & their marriage & affection was personal & private & that’s what I think we should aspire for. Adversely, there are people I have evicted from my life who still read my blog (*waves*) & I do not want them infiltrating my beautiful life with their toxicity & I find them having any access to even the tiniest details of my life to be bothersome. So, I keep the things that matter most to me to myself…and about three other people. I even find publishing this awkward & had the Texan proofread it before I published it because I was worried it was too personal for my liking.

So, I laughed at these two girls because they’re mocking their friend but she’s probably really happy. She’s with someone & she’s comfortable & secure & doesn’t see any reason to advertise it to the masses. She is enjoying her relationship, not documenting it. Maybe I need to take a lesson from this faceless girl & apply this to the rest of my life & post fewer photos of my kids, my cat & selfies. But I know if I stopped with the former, my kids’ grandma would beat me up. But maybe we all need to enjoy our lives more & not publicize them. Keep our personal lives personal. Talk to people @ dinner instead of photographing our food. Your dinner wasn’t any less delicious because no one saw it. Use your phone to make phone calls & take a moment to hear their voice. Enjoy nature without a filter. Live.

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How You Get the Girl

Let me fill you in on some random facts about your favourite blogger MHC.

I talk way too much. Like, I never shut up pretty much EVER. I probably talk in my sleep. I talk to my cat Peachy like she’s people. I overthink to the nth degree. I fear intimacy & commitment. I over analyze so I’m always 19 steps ahead for no reason & when I figure it out I need to breathe in a bag. I have an irrational fear of abandonment. Then there’s my Fangirl like love for Taylor Swift. It’s really huge. I’m in my 30’s.

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I have a fiery temper & strong opinions & I’m stubborn af & I will not back down when I think I’m right. I get way too defensive when I think people question my way of doing things & I’d rather cough up blood than see a doctor. Oh, and I use 80’s slang for fun. I watch terrible movies. I laugh when skateboarders fall down, I hang up on people to play Legend of Zelda & I have a ridiculously childish celebrity crush on Seth Rollins. I tweet too much. I spend too much time on social media. I take too many selfies. I sing along with mall music & dance in aisles & hug inanimate objects at the mall & I wear a Pikachu hoodie & I’m a grown woman. When it comes to my writing I’m a perfectionist. And I’m a total bitch first thing in the morning.

All of these things used to bother me. I was obsessed with trying to be perfect so that people would like me. I tried to bury them down so far that no one would see them. Then one day…I stopped. I owned all of that. I have flaws. Lots of em! I’m an over emotional, hyper focused goofy ball of energy who talks too much. Way too much. And you know what, that’s totes cool.

However, for those who know me best, there’s also the rest of the list. I’m strong & I’m brave. I give infinite chances to those who deserve them. I like to think myself a kind hearted soul who loves to be nice just because I can & my greatest joy is making those I love happy. I fancy myself pretty smart, and I often joke that I am the best in the world at what I do (a line I borrowed from a great and wise multi hyphenate…Chris Jericho). I’m quite pretty in the right light, I take great pride in my work, my family & my ability to be the role model my daughters deserve so they don’t need TV to find one. I love my career so much that I take pride in the tiniest things. I still have an innocent view of the world, of love, that people are essentially good & often I’m right. I’m determined; there’s not much that I don’t get if I want it badly enough. Some people have told me I have a lovely singing voice. I lost 85lbs on my own without a fad diet. I kick crossfit’s ass. I’m pretty much the raddest chick that I know. In order to be the woman I’m most proud of, I needed to accept that there are parts that suck. And that’s okay.

In order to appreciate all of the amazing things that I am capable of being, I needed to accept that I’m not perfect and the list of flaws help me define my strengths. You cannot be strong until you’ve been weak. You cannot be proud of who you are if you can’t look at yourself honestly & accept every facet of who you are. So, I do & I’m proud of all of it, even the talking to my cat. She gets me.

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I’ll always be the girl who shuts herself away when she’s stressed about stuff that isn’t even real & writes paragraphs until she’s over it. I’ll always be the girl who talks too much & struggles to let people get close to her & will wonder if the people in my life are gonna bail (except Erica. She stays forever. She’s my Murican soulmate. <3). But that’s okay because those are small things & the amazing things I do outweigh the quirks I have & I aspire each day to work on those flaws so that they remain the most minuscule part of my life & people only see how bad ass I am. While I accept them, I also handle them in my own way so that they don’t take over my life. I can’t bury them anymore, because I want those in my life to love me for me; good & irksome. So, I accept them as I would the flaws of others & assume that those in my life will accept them too. Because there is nothing in life that will ever be 100% positive. There’s always something crappy. But if you just own the negative & focus on the positive, you can be really happy just being yourself.

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Begin Again

I’ve been told when it comes to dating, I’m just too damn picky.

I think I reserve the right to be picky. I’ve dated Newspapers, Mr. Emotionally Stunted, guys who are completely incapable of love because they’re emotionally crippled, narcissists, physically abusive morons, cheaters, etc. My track record effing sucks. Part of that is because I chose poorly. I didn’t see my own value. I allowed people to walk all over me because I didn’t think I deserved any better. But, now, I look differently. I want someone who will help me evolve as a person, compliment my life, all those cliches.

The picky comment came from a friend after I told a guy I didn’t want to see him anymore when I found out he didn’t have a job. The Gleason Table & my new coworkers agreed that this is a deal breaker. I don’t see that as picky, I see it as smart. “I thought you were an independent woman,” the guy snarked when I told him. I am. I live in a house I pay for. I pay my bills. I support my children completely on my own, as I have not received a child support payment in 22 months (although his wages are finally being garnisheed). Everything I own I have purchased with my money from my jobs. While I currently only have one, at one point I was working two jobs & attending school full time. Why? Because I support myself. I don’t need another person to support, so employability is kind of a must.

Late last year, I made the list of the seven rules to dating MHC. It’s important to me to maintain high standards so that I meet the right person & it works. That doesn’t mean I won’t compromise on little things. For example, I don’t really want to date a man that smokes (ironically enough, every man I ever dated, even casually, has smoked), but I will compromise. But I won’t compromise on unemployment. I just wonder why are you wasting your day pursuing a woman, you should be finding a job! I’m really glad I took time away from dating, as it helped me understand how to make good dating choices. After all, whom I choose will be around my daughters (after one year) & they will base their romantic choices around mine. Too often, people rush from one partner to the next because being alone deafens them. They fear the being alone, the lack of intimacy, the idea that it will never end & you’ll always be alone with your thoughts & self doubt. That’s why all of those relationships fail; because they’re making choices out of loneliness, not because they really care for the person. I wondered if that’s why I kept making bad choices. All of the men I choose are the same; broken birds. Perhaps my lonely, sad & jaded year helped me. It helped me discover that, in the words of WWE Superstar (& my husband in my imagination) Seth Rollins, we are the authors, the finishers of our fate. The reason I was unlucky in love is because I was making bad choices, forgiving men & accepting their mistreatment & taking them back without expecting them to make changes. I was just blindly giving. Well, insanity is defined as doing the same thing & expecting different results. I can’t keep doing the same things. I can’t keep overlooking things I shouldn’t. I can’t be a doormat. I can’t keep losing my identity in a relationship. I need to be able to be me, just with someone. I needed to learn that I wasn’t in the right place to be a partner. I needed to grow up, stop letting others define my happiness, define my own happiness & stop letting love be the excuse for why people treated me like crap, because if they did love me, they wouldn’t treat me like crap!

The old MHC would have looked past the joblessness, and his excuse that it wasn’t his fault, the manager was an ass & wanted to help. The new MHC saw the lack of ownership & knew it’s a red flag & walked, knowing she deserves better. Maybe I am a little bit picky, but that’s only because I need to be. If I don’t think I deserve the best possible partner that compliments me & will be a good male role model for my girls, then who will? My friends? It’s nice that they want what’s good for me, but it’s not up to them to build me up. That’s on me. My family? See above. I have to want what’s right for me, & not push down the doubts because I’m too blinded by love to see that I’m being torn apart piece by piece & becoming a simpering, weak, baby. Maybe that makes me too picky, or frigid, or I’ll die alone. But I’d rather die alone with my kids & my cats & blissfully happy with my life, my writing & my fitness than miserably in love with someone who either a) mistreats me or b) just doesn’t work, or in this case, literally doesn’t work.

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The Giving Tree

This was originally going to be a Wordless Wednesday with a cool meme I found from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire on Tumblr, but then I decided to write about it more because I don’t really know how to shut up.

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My obsession with this Trilogy knows no bounds. One of my first blog posts that generated attention for this blog was defending Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss. Shortly before the first film was released, I gave my the angriest tween my copies of the books to read. I won’t post spoilers for those who haven’t read them, but after completing the series (and her sobbing at the fate of one of the book’s supporting character), I asked her what she learned and she gave me an answer that shocked even my adult friends who read the books:

“War doesn’t discriminate against anyone. Katniss is a beacon of hope even though she’s not a nice person. Also, Peeta was the only truly good person in all of Panem.”

My friends all were like “Katniss is a good person,” and she corrected them. “No she’s not. She’s selfish and rude and uses Peeta to survive and the only person she cares about is her sister. She’s strong and she’s cool but she’s not nice. Only Peeta is nice. Only Peeta cares about other people, only Peeta cares Katniss.”

It’s true. War brings out the worst in people. Katniss cares only about survival. During a poignant scene when her two potential suitors, Peeta and Gale talk while they believe Katniss is sleeping, Gale mentions that the one who has her heart is the one she cannot survive without, a sentiment that hurts the Mockingjay. Katniss is willing to kill anyone she has to in order to survive while Peeta cares about preserving life. Katniss is petulant, spoiled, and rude. Stephen King was once quoted as saying that Suzanne Collins made Katniss a character to root for despite her not being very likable.

But Peeta is the opposite. Peeta loves Katniss. Peeta forgives Katniss’s failings, even her manipulating him in the Hunger Games arena. Peeta does everything to save Katniss, uses any chance he has to save himself to save Katniss. Everything is for his beloved girl from the seam. We could all hope to be loved as much as Peeta loves Katniss. Like Haymitch says to her “You could live a million lifetimes and not deserve him.”

But Peeta cannot survive in a world like Panem. The cruelness of the war torn life tears away at Peeta bit by bit. Much like Katniss needs Peeta to get out of the Hunger Games arena, Peeta needs Katniss to help him get through the harshness of life. They rely on each other to make it through and I was so proud that my child figured this out on her own.

The world could use more real people like Peeta, who simply love and want to protect the person they adore, so much that they’d die for them. However, we also need people like Katniss, who are a titch bit selfish and are only willing to protect a select few and only care about saving their own arse. We need a little bit of each of us if we’re going to muddle through life, because life, much like war, doesn’t discriminate between the good and the bad and good people can be ripped apart just as much as the selfish and we all need to develop some strength and self preservation to make it through.