Failure 

When I’m dealing with a million things at once, like major life choices, I don’t sleep. 

Like, at all. 

When I don’t sleep, I think about random crap, ranging from my plans for my rare day off tomorrow (as I’m currently employed four times over, two regular jobs & two freelance jobs, my LinkedIn profile makes me look like a machine) to my deducing that my insomnia stems from burnout. Maybe I work too hard, put too much pressure on myself. Maybe I take the random people who call me their inspiration seriously & I feel like I need to be the pillar of strength & grace all of the time or I’ll fail them (might I suggest a better inspiration? Beyoncé is a good one). Or how I feel like a failure as a writer as of late, despite my blog & other endeavours appearing to be successful. Or the fact that my best friends think I work too much to avoid actual feelings. I told them I write my feelings where they can’t be found; in plain sight but hidden. Look at me pretending I’m a riddle. Or just failure in general. 

Ladies & gentlemen, welcome to what I think about when I don’t sleep. 

May I present the face of insomnia

Failure.

 (Don’t worry kids, the title is still a song title. Insomnia doesn’t prevent my sometimes flawless musical timing)

I’ve spent so much of my life with something to prove. I need to overcome the shit childhood; the poverty, the emotionally draining relationships, the foster home, the stigma. I need to succeed, because for so long the sins of those who should have protected me were on my head. I refuse to do that for my own children, so I spend a lot of time trying to be better, smarter, healthier, wiser. I used to fear failure. If I failed at anything, it was a tragedy. I couldn’t handle it. Tests, work, all of it, it had to be perfect. 

Part of my growth as a person has been to accept that I’m not perfect & sometimes I mess things up. Like this past month, when I got fired from the job I hated more than I hated geese (almost). My spotless employment record, ruined. Old MH would have had some kind of epic breakdown. As my daughters asked what would happen next (& I learned that I need to be more mindful of my speech because my five year old said she missed my old Target Mobile boss because he’s not a “raging doucher”), I very calmly told them I’d have a new job in a week. I was wrong; I had a new job in two days. I had TWO new jobs in a week. I may never have a successful personal life, But I dominate my professional life like a dynasty sports team. 

I’m so close to having almost everything I’ve ever wanted. I couldn’t let the fact that my boss couldn’t see my worth to the company (I later learned I was one of only three people meeting the company standard) & the fact I lost a job I actively hated deter me from the goal. So, I stayed the course. Focused on the goal. I needed to show the girls that Mom had it under control…& she did. I can’t obsess about the fact that I didn’t succeed at a random retail job I won’t put on my resume. I HATED IT. I won’t succeed at something I hate & if I just continue to work & focus on my new jobs (which I love so much more) & freelancing in another time zone, I’ll get what I’ve worked my whole life for. 

  

So, I’ve learned there’s no shame in failure. It’s when you don’t get back up. So, I’ve accepted I’ll never be Laycool flawless. But I’ll get back up & try again. And again. And I’ll teach my girls the lesson I learned the hard way; its not failing because you didn’t succeed; failure comes from giving up.

  

I guess that’s what I love most about life; even when I have no idea what direction I’m heading in or what to do next, to the point where I don’t sleep & I’d really like to, I’m still learning & growing. I’m still evolving into the kind of woman I want to be & that’s pretty rad. And eventually I’ll figure this life thing out & hopefully it’s not before life removes me from the game…& maybe after I get some sleep. 

  

Rest to Get Better

Since the rest of my life seems to involve writing (I just wrote an awesome article about a lifetime achievement award winner! So excited!), acquiring many jobs, scheduling interviews with a time zone difference, making lists & staring blankly at the ceiling whilst I try to make life decisions like a real adult, Imma gonna write about the stuff in my life that I’m not screwing up. Parenting & fitness. 

I’m always striving to be a better MHC than I was yesterday. It’s really important to me to set the right examples, do the right things, live the right life so that the three minor children that I’m charged with getting to adulthood see that you can be anything by doing anything you set your mind to. It’s why I’m still working for the goal of finally landing a full time job in journalism, because I need to show them that you don’t give up on what you really want in life. You work hard & keep trying & if you get knocked down, you get back up. 

Another part of this is body image. It’s very important that I show my daughters that you should live a healthy & active lifestyle, eat right & love your body. It’s not about “skinny” or “fat shaming,” as someone accused me on Facebook after I posted a gym related status update; it’s about taking pride in who you are. Most obese people learned poor eating habits from their parents. Obesity is linked to low self esteem. My self esteem was low for years because of my weight & while it isn’t perfect, it’s getting there. Obesity is linked to many health problems. So, my job as mom is to show them how to be healthy. 



You want progress? Work for it.

I refuse to make excuses. I want a healthy self esteem, I want to live longer, I want to be the best possible MHC, then I’ve got to work for it. I think of workouts as appointments I schedule with myself. I am the boss of my own life (a really crappy boss who can’t make major decisions), and I wouldn’t miss a meeting with my boss, right? No. I wouldn’t. So, I look at my fitness schedule the same way. Part of that has been taking up crossfit. While there are some people who make fun of my “torture cult,” &  make fun of my elitist gym with poor training, I just laugh. My gym is full of the most encouraging & welcoming people on Earth, always encouraging each other & making people feel welcome. I came in as a terrified newbie that couldn’t even do a real burpee. The coaches & athletes helped me with proper form, cheered me on through the hardest workouts (or as the Overlord calls it, “encouragement yelling”) & I’m stronger & in better shape than I’ve been in in years.

 

Because I’m always challenging myself, I entered a crossfit competition! One of the coaches at my gym said it would be super fun (he lied; it’s actually terrible), but every Friday night or Saturday morning I truck myself to the gym to do the crossfit open workouts, including the workout that required me to life weights that were five lbs heavier than my personal best. BTW that totally sucked. I have one more week to go & I’ll have achieved my current goal of getting through it & living to tell the tale. I brought the girls with me, and while my eldest & youngest daughters colour, my middle daughter, whom we call the Overlord for her plots to take over the world, became absolutely enamoured with crossfit. 



When my friend (who teases me regularly about my crossfit love) decided to try it, she made him a practice WOD



She decided one of our coaches was the most amazing because she is “pretty like a princess & stronger than boys!” I even had to postpone a trip to Windsor because we couldn’t do the workout early, open days are Saturdays & she found little jobs for herself, like bringing protein bars & fresh fruit & making herself the official cheering section. She would tell me after every week that when she is big, she wants to be strong & healthy & lift heavy weights & have muscles & be stronger than boys. Mommy is strong & that’s cool! I may not have set any records (my 15.2 score was a whopping six & 15.4 was 13), but my daughter saw being healthy & strong & working hard as being super cool, so right now, I feel like I won parenting. 

My job as mom is to show my daughters that they can do anything; they can have any career they want, they can be strong, fast, brave, & they can have the confidence to do that. But I can’t tell them, I have to show them. So, while I’m currently in 48 thousandth place & won’t be going to the Crossfit Games, I feel like I won, because I showed my girls that with hard work & determination, they can accomplish anything. 

House of Cards

Those who know me well know that I fail major life choices. 

No matter how much I joke about it, I know I’ll never get married again because the thought of major life choices scare me. In my last relationship, I’d crack wise & then say “YOU KNOW I AM COMPLETELY FINE WITH RIGHT NOW, RIGHT?!” Not so much for him, but for ME. I wasn’t even sure how to trust a man, especially THAT man, so anything more than that level of intimacy scared me. Actually, ALL intimacy scared me. Anytime we’d add something, I’d kind of want to breathe in a bag. I wanted to trust him, but trusting people is really hard for me. There’s a lot of damage from trusting people who hurt me, so letting people in freaks me out. Letting in the person who caused the most damage terrified me. I don’t really let friends close to me (except maybe two), family, etc. It actually scares me, because then they can hurt me, leave me & I’d rather not give people the opportunity. 

But I digress. 

This fear of major life choices applies to everything. I walked out of a job two days in because they needed me to know my schedule for the next six months. I can barely plan the next six days. I had another job lined up, so I took it. Major life choices of any kind make me panic, because I get questioning myself & ask myself “what if?” & worry I’m gonna mess it all up. 

In order to build my career, I sent out a bunch of resumes. I applied at a lot of magazines, newspapers & everything in between. I applied at every media outlet in this country, and even some in the US. For about a month, I didn’t get any calls, despite my annoying the living crap out of every editor because I was in some kind of weird, determined, “I’m going to do this because I’m a warrior,” mode. I didn’t actually think it through. Then this happened;

GUYS
I wasn’t offered one; I was offered TWO. Also, I have a lead on a full time position at a magazine that would be my dream job. I want it so badly that I’ve been calling the editor non-stop, reminding him that I’m still interested while kicking off my tenure at the other two by starting my first freelance article under that banner this week. 

Did I mention that it’s the other side of the country? Oh yeah. IT’S ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COUNTRY. 

This is my “what the eff do I do now?” face. Or my “studying for my G1 is stupid” face. whatever
I was super motivated until I realized that I may ACTUALLY HAVE TO MOVE ACROSS THE COUNTRY. On the plus side, at least it’s not the arctic! (I hate snow. And winter. I don’t feel the arctic is right for me) 

So, now I’m left with choices. Obviously I can transfer my regular people job to the new city while I freelance & I would only for sure move if I acquired the full time position I am assertively campaigning for, but I’ve accomplished more in 8 weeks in a province I don’t live in than I did in my current city in 10 months. I’m freelancing for magazines, one with a pretty great media company that has a lot of magazines and newspapers under the umbrella, which means a lot of opportunities for me professionally. Even freelancing through this organization is a dream come true for me. 

But, then I think about the girls, their relationship with their dad will be very different. I saw how much that hurt someone; I don’t know if I could do that (even if he isn’t going to win father of the year anytime soon). I worry about the city I would be moving to. It’s much larger than where I live now. Would I be putting myself in a situation that would stunt my personal growth? Or would it allow me to move forward in a positive way? Could I afford to live there? I still can’t legally drive on my own, who will help me truck my stuff across the country? I moved the kids once & they hated it. They like the house but hate their school & miss their music lessons & ask to move home regularly. I thought this move would be awesome, but once I got here, I found media opportunities were scarce & making friends when you work a zillion hours isn’t so easy. When my writing with CineKlik started getting praise & buzz, it made me realize how much I missed writing & that I needed to move forward with my career. But I’m also afraid to end up in a situation where I’m not financially sound or worse, I wasn’t as good as I thought I was & I moved my daughters to chase a dream that’s never really going to come true & I’m meant for Johnny punch clock retail jobs, not journalism. 

I tried outsourcing to FB. The FB people said I know what I’m doing. Clearly they’re new
If you thought I was neurotic when I moved two hours from home, imagine me NOW. The cons are terrifying & the pro is that I’ll finally have almost everything I ever wanted. You’d think that would make it easy, but here we are. 

Welp, that didn’t help
I’m going to take some time out this week & drink ridiculous amounts of caffeine with a friend (who’s also in the biz) & hammer it all out. Then I’ll spend the weekend with friends who are used to my special brand of blood pressure raising angst. And I’ll text Erica & the Psych Major & cry. And somewhere in the middle I’ll figure it out, right? 

Right? Seriously, I suck at this. Help. 

in the interim, I’ll focus on small victories, like my cute hair

Dear Stephanie McMahon: A Letter From One Mom To Another

Dear Stephanie McMahon,

You don’t know me and I don’t know you, but we sort of grew up together. I’m only a couple of years younger than you and I grew up watching WWE programming and loved the entertainment your family brought into my home each week. As a teenager, I loathed your onscreen character for being married to my childhood crush, Triple H (although I promise I got over it haha) and much like you, I have three daughters of my own. You’ve gone from being the bane of my teenage existence to becoming a role model for women like me; you’re a hardworking mom who strives to be a role model. You don’t make excuses; you find time to keep in shape, run a company and still be there for your daughters. You inspire women like me every single day. I’m actually a huge fan of you and your work ethic.

The WWE Network is the most popular channel in my home, but it’s not for me; it’s for my three daughters, who are 13, eight and five. My eldest daughter’s goal in life is to become the youngest WWE Divas Champion in history and is already training for her goal. She runs 5Km with me three days a week, joins as many sports teams a possible and carries her replica title around as practice for when she wins the real thing, skipping like her idol, AJ Lee. The highlight of my eight year old daughter’s life was when she met WWE Diva Paige in our hometown in Ontario, Canada last year. Paige told her they were best friends and to this day, my daughter swears that she and Paige are best friends and begs to stay up late every week to see Paige wrestle and is waiting with baited breath for Paige to get her Wrestlemania moment @ Wrestlemania XXXI. My youngest loves the Bella Twins and sported her “Fearless Nikki” shirt on her birthday so she could be “Fearless Five.” They were excited beyond belief this past Summerslam, when you and Brie Bella co-headlined the second largest event of the year. They pleaded for Brie Mode and Fearless Nikki shirts so they could watch Divas kick butt just like the guys. They were so happy and as a longtime fan of WWE programming, I thought we were finally going to see a change, where women would get equal time to the men on programming and no longer would little girls all over the world wait all night to see the Divas just for them to be trucked out for three minutes and then leave…

..until last night.

from wwe.com
from wwe.com

Paige and fellow Diva Emma sat in the ring for several minutes while Raw aired a promo for male Superstar Sting. A promo that was long and unnecessary and could have aired at any point in the show. The Divas were given less than 10 seconds to wrestle and maybe three minutes to perform before they were shipped backstage. Ironically enough, you made a statement in a backstage segment questioning if male superstar Seth Rollins would defy you simply because you’re a woman. You make a bold, femminist statement and then have your Divas compete in less than 30 seconds with a promo in between. You stand up for powerful women, but your company disrespects their female athletes less than two hours later by saying that a video package for a male superstar is more important than their time.

I’m not talking as a disgruntled fan; I’m a mom just like you. My daughters adore the Divas, only watch WWE programming for the Divas (and Daniel Bryan. They really love Daniel Bryan) and each week they wait for hours for their beloved Divas just to see them for less than two minutes in storylines that insult their intelligence. The Bella Twins hate Paige because she looks different, AJ Lee hates the Total Divas because she wants to be on the show and wasn’t invited? Why can’t they have a storyline that is deep and meaningful? Trish Stratus and Lita had a rivalry that eclipsed their male counterparts, why can’t the current women? While I appreciate that Paige has sent a strong message about being true to oneself, why can’t women have storylines that make them strong, powerful women, and not high school bullies or jealous vixens?

I guess the part that confuses me is that you are such a strong woman and you take such pride in representing women in such a strong capacity. Why wouldn’t you want the Divas to be a reflection of your work ethic? My daughters as well as daughters all over the world look up to these women, they deserve more than two minute matches and storylines that demean them. When you became an active member of the creative team, moms like myself had such hope that you would show the world that the women were just as strong as the men. Total Divas is a successful franchise and brings new viewers to WWE. Why wouldn’t you capitalize on that and allow the viewers of Total Divas to see just how strong and athletic these Divas can be? We can’t see that in two minutes. The Divas work so hard. They deserve so much more. And you know how strong and talented they are, that’s why you chose to wrestle them yourself. Brie and Nikki Bella were talented enough to work a match with you, sell a pay per view event with you, and make history as the first women’s match to co-headline a PPV with you, but they’re not good enough for twenty minutes of airtime for Nikki to defend her title or cut a promo? That feels so hypocritical and I know that’s not how you would want fans to see you.

from wwe.com
from wwe.com

On behalf of every fan, I’m asking you to please let the Divas have airtime. Monday Night Raw is three hours long, surely you can give thirty minutes to the Divas. Every time you don’t, you cheapen the goals of little girls all over the world just like my teenage daughter, who want nothing more than to hold that title. You cheapen the hard work of women like AJ Lee, Paige and Nikki Bella, who work so hard and train so hard while working long hours and travel long days to hold that title and devalue Brie Bella, your handpicked opponent. You make them appear unworthy and beneath the men, and I know a woman like you, who conquered a man’s world would never want that for women.

I hope you’ll listen to the fans and #GiveDivasAChance, so my daughters will never have to say “Please let us stay up for the Divas, they’ll only be on for a minute!” ever again.

Sincerely,

MHC, A Mom Of Disappointed Divas Fans

Like You Ain’t Even Gone

Oh, hey guys. Did something happen recently?
Like a big thing? Could it be that my company went under & we all found out on the Internet? Wait. That’s it (well, I didn’t find out on the Internet. I found out from my friend Paul. THANKS PAUL. THANKS A LOT).

That’s right kids; Target is closing and we, their employees (well, I worked for Glentel) found out on the damn Internet. Y’all probably knew before I did. I was getting ready for a conference call with my fellow managers to find out that we were all likely losing our jobs. Hey, cool! I’m still waiting to learn what Glentel has for me, but if nothing comes up, I’ll move into my new job that starts February 9/15. Phew.

I feel for those who are not in my position, with a job and a safety net lined up. I was already prepared because I had become disenchanted with my phone career back in November & applied for a new job. Then I was offered a promotion to stay on. So, when this came up, I just called the other job to see if they’d take me. So, you may all stop asking me what’s up, there’s been some uncertainty & there still is, no matter what, I have a job to go to. I am good & I thank you all for the concern.

However, most of you know that. I am REALLY good in a crisis. Really good. On the morning of the bombshell, my best friend the Psych Major texted me & said “you have a plan. What’s your plan?” My mom said the same thing; it had been two hours, obviously I had a plan. For those of you who haven’t seen me much & remember the sad girl who would rush to Drew’s couch & cry in the fetal position; she is long dead. Now I’m the friend who gets the calls of “HOLYSHITMHTHISISHAPPENINGHELPMEWHATDOIDO?!” while I talk them down. I’ve become the rational & logical one…& my mom & my closest friends knew:

1. I had a plan
2. I was already on step 6 of the plan
3. I probably already had another job and two offers.

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My personal life may never be what I want it to be, but my professional one is always successful. I am a double college grad with sales, management & public relations experience. The number of sick days I’ve taken at Target Mobile is zero. I’m never late. I’m highly employable. I know what I’m worth to an employer & I make sure they understand that. Egotistical? Maybe. But I’m competing in a job market with a lot of people, a number that just went up by 17599. You’ve gotta set yourself apart somehow & for me, that’s flat out saying “I am an asset. You know it, I know it. So hire me.” So I do. And they did. I have the security of knowing my family was taken care of 24 hours after I was told I was losing my job…by my friend Paul, WHO READ IT ON THE INTERNET. I’ll always thrive in my professional life and get what I want in the end. When it comes to my working life, I will always be successful. I’ll always rise to the challenge and weather minor crisis just like the bad ass that I am.

So, crisis averted in 24 hours. I will have no period of unemployment and my apologies to Damanda, but I won’t be coming home any time soon, not to visit, not to live, not for a long time. But I DO know my children are provided for and that’s all that matters to me in the end.

I won’t lie; it kind of feels like life has kicked me in the teeth. Two months ago, I had everything I had ever wanted. I had my job, my writing career taking off, my family & the person I’ve always felt is the love of my life. Then it all got slowly chipped away until I didn’t even have a job. But the thing is; sometimes life does that. It sucks, but you get back up. I used to feel like “omg why me?” But I am no victim of life’s bullshit. I am Mary-Helen & I’m pretty bad ass. I used to lay down & die when bad things happen, but now I thank the universe for them. No, I am not crazy. Obviously, God, the universe, fate, etc. feels that I am strong enough to weather the storms & get through the bad times. So, thanks for having faith in me! Besides, they never last. I had a few days of uncertainty & things came together because I had a plan. The good times will always be more amazing because I got through some bad crap to get there. I’ll always be that eternal optimist finding the shiny happy lining when everything sucks.

But maybe that’s the secret to getting through life; following the brilliant lessons laid out in the campfire song about the lion hunt. When you find the tall grass, you can’t go over it or under it, you gotta go through it & then you’ll be fine.

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It’s A Good Life

Unless you’ve lived under a rock since October, you know all about my latest obsession: crossfit.

That’s right bitches; MHC is gonna be more bad ass than usual.

I know there are people out there who claim it’s dangerous, I’ll die, it’s expensive, but you can’t fake results, which I’m getting in spades. I can already lift 40+lbs more than when I started & I completed my testing with sore muscles & a sense of accomplishment.

95lbs down since January!
95lbs down since January!

My greatest accomplishment came yesterday, when the owner of my gym was going to skip the WOD, because she hadn’t done one in a bit & it was challenging. She said that the whole time…until I finished it. I’ve only been going for two months, and I finished the whole damn thing. I didn’t just finish it; I finished it with a score comparable to those who have been training for over a year. She said there was no excuse for her now & was impressed by my ability to go out & work my ass off (literally) to finish it.

This is the story of my life; I get up off of my ass & earn stuff. I think that’s why I’m more determined than most; I have never been given anything. I earned the right to be a mother in a court of law. I earned my education by fighting tooth and nail just to attend school. I earned my portfolio by never taking no for an answer. I earned my current punch clock job by telling my boss that I wasn’t leaving the interview until I got it so he may as well just hire me. Nothing for me has ever come terribly easy, either because I made dumb choices or because I trusted bad people. But either way, I got through it all & I’ve been blessed with my beautiful life. I think that’s why I’m always determined to find happiness where there is nothing, because I know what it’s like to have nothing. Because of this, I find ways to push through ugliness & get what I want in the end. I set goals & achieve them; the end.

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My friends say I’m impossible because I know what I want & I go get it, and if I can’t get it, I focus on all of the many other things I want to achieve before my time expires. There’s always “there’s something else, someone else, plan B.” In my life, there is no Plan B (let’s all ask my legal professors how well Plan B goes). I wanted to be a published writer, and I am. I wanted to get in shape, so I did. I wanted to be free to live my life without abusive or controlling people, so I did. You get the idea. I know what I want & I get it. If it doesn’t work the first time; I try again. Once I get my mind on that’s where I belong, there’s not much changing it, mostly because I’ve tried to change it myself & my gut doesn’t lie. If I feel that strongly, it’s because there’s facts, evidence, and my beautiful heart is telling me to follow it, so I do. 99% of the time I’ll get what I want. It’s not a flawless victory, but it’s still a pretty amazing success rate.

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So, much like my masochistic relationship with running, I’m going to continue my masochistic relationship with crossfit while setting goals, achieving them & repeat. I will never be the girl that quits. I will always be the girl that succeeds, and I will never understand why that’s a bad thing to some. Maybe I am impossible. Maybe I do need a Plan B. But I don’t really understand why. Things only don’t work if you don’t work for them. Things only fall apart if you don’t try. And even if they do, there’s another Plan A in another part of my life that needs my attention & if I’m right about where I should live, who I belong with, the job I should have, the rest will work itself out in time. So, I’ll focus on all of the other millions of things I want to accomplish, so when my life is over, I can say I lived it well & got almost everything I wanted. I would hate to be thinking “what if.”

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In the interim, I’ll just continue to achieve everything else I want in my beautiful life, & my daughters will learn from me how to be self reliant, brave & successful, as well as grateful for what life has afforded them. It may be impossible, but it’s a beautiful lesson, & I like it better than “meh. You tried. Settle for something less.” They’ll have learned even if it’s hard, you finish the workout. You try one more time for that dream job. You reach for that brass ring. If you don’t get it, then reach for it again. And eventually all of your dreams will come true.

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Homesick

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Bad Blood

My teenage daughter is exactly like me.

Seriously.

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

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

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

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

FROM YOU.

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

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

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

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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