Learn to Let Go

Oh, hai. 

I know, I kind of fell off of the planet for a bit. It happens. I know, I fell off of social media (outside of fitness stuff & the odd kids pic on my private accounts) too. I kind of died. I won’t lie; I’m really tired. I’ve been working six days a week until now, and I’ve been dead on my feet. 

Accurate depiction of my life the last three weeks
 Fortunately, I only have three shifts left! Them imma get on a plane because I’m on vacation bitches!

This girl is headed home to drop off the littles for their annual “force their dad to be a dad for two weeks by dropping off the kids and saying ‘these are yours. Act like it,'” trip. I’m only staying a week though. I’ll be catching up with my favourite humans (and getting a bunch of tattoos) and coming back home…alone, after some much needed R&R (I’ll also be jet lagged af, so anyone who wants to meet me at the airport is welcome hahaha). After a gruelling schedule, it’ll be nice to unwind, veg out, and catch up with friends. And while I love my kids and being a hands on mom, having a week to myself will be kind of nice too. But just one week. They’ll be back before school starts. 


It’s been kind of nice to take a break from social media, personal writing, etc. to recharge & refocus. Between my full time job and my freelance writing, I’ve been busy and tired. But my professional writing is improving more every time I submit something and I’m really proud of that (don’t believe me? Check out this article I wrote about my friend Carrie! It’s pretty freaking good if I do say so myself). My performance at my day job is improving too! I’ve hit my YEG stride and it’s great. I’ve made great friends. My coworkers are rad. My summer pretty much rocks. I went on a date with a cute boy & I may go out with him again.  I saw Ed Sheeran and Lady Gaga in the span of a week. I’ve worked a million hours, but still found time to hit a deadlift PR. I’ve been focusing on the writing that makes me money, because who doesn’t love money! 


I think sometimes it’s nice to decompress from the world of social media, and for me, my blog. I like to live my life more and talk about it less. Not to mention a little mystery is nice. Let people miss me for awhile while I do my own thing. If you want to know what’s up, you can call or text (unless you’re one of the 40 people who’s numbers are blocked) & say hi. If not, then you probably don’t miss me that much. It’s one of those superficial “I miss you! We should meet up soon!” when we have no intention of meeting up soon. They’ll say they miss me all over social media, then shit talk me at a party. I have no patience for that kind of bullshit in my life. If you want to criticize my life; I’ll be more than happy to send you a few of my bills that you can pay. If you want to be around me, you’d be there. The end. 


I’m so over the fake happy social media lives and the fake friends who only message on your birthday, or talk about their #perfect lives for the likes. I use social media to interact with people. One thing I’ll stress always on this blog and online is that I am not perfect. My house can be a mess. I don’t stick to my diet. Like, I went to crossfit and ate and entire bag of Doritos while watching the Grudge. My kids don’t always behave. But I do always talk about evolution & growth. Besides, you don’t have to be #perfect to be happy. My life is imperfectly happy, and to me, happy matters so much more than #perfect. If I have to choose between being a #perfect mom, #perfect human, or a happy one with happy kids, I’ll choose happy every damn time. 


‪Part of my happiness is meeting up with my friends.  For those that know me, as much as I love/hate social media, I do love live travel tweeting. If you wanna follow along, feel free to follow me on the Twitter (unless I blocked you on Twitter, then you can go fuck yourself). I tend to live tweet my travels. Sometimes it’s funny, I guess. As for me, I’ll be enjoying the people who make as much time for me as I do for them, while also inking up my skin, because I can, mostly because I choose happy over cookie cutter, boring, and oh so #perfect. 

Sorry Not Sorry

I know I’ve mentioned it before, but my coworkers are pretty much the raddest people ever. I’m so lucky to work for a company that encourages growth from within, a one team mindset, and celebrates individual accomplishments. There is no “follow my coaching and become a mini me.” My boss encourages everyone to learn from everyone else until they become a superstar. It’s refreshing to see a team so focused on helping everyone succeed. 


The women on the leadership team know we are islands in a male dominated industry. We know we’re the minority. We have our own unique challenges (our trainer, who is arguably the most intelligent and interesting person I’ve met since moving here, was recently given sexist feedback by an ASSOCIATE), and we’ve stuck together. We celebrate each other, stand up for each other, and we’re fortunate to have each other. But most recently, I’ve learned more from one of these amazing women about self love in one night of cocktails then I have in a long time. 

There’s no denying that I’m an odd duck. I talk a lot. I like a lot of nerdy things. I’ve been known to live tweet WWE PPV’s. I tell bad dad jokes. But that’s who I am and it took me a long time to get comfortable in my skin. My colleague marches to the beat of her own drum. She’s unconventional, over the top, creative, and driven. I once said she was like a living meme; she drives the point home in a hilarious manner. At our last training, she said that if she could be an animal, she would be a giraffe. Why? So she could be majestic, but also eat her grass and mind her business. She’s also successful af & super interested in helping the business grow, so I love learning from her. 

As we were downing shots of Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey (I may not drink often, but I drink whiskey now. Somewhere my high school bestie is so proud), I mentioned how I was told by a manager to turn down my personality so that I could better fit in. She straight up said “fuck that.” 


She then tells me about how she felt the same way when she had to go to her first manager’s meeting. What if they didn’t like her ideas because she was new? What if she was too over the top? What if no one liked her? When she told her boyfriend, he told her “show them you belong.” So, she showed them she belongs. And she did it by not giving a fuck and being herself. 

I’m pretty comfortable in my own skin, but there are times if I wonder am I  just too much or not enough? Am I ever going to be good enough to get that promotion, find the right person, achieve that 200lbs back squat at the gym? But my coworker’s “show them you belong” mindset reminded me that if I’ve changed everything about who I am to get that promotion, to meet someone, then I’m settling. I should be earning these things on account because of who I am, not through becoming a lesser version of me. If you sell out your authentic self to win a person or a job, then it’s a false victory. I’m not about that. So, instead, I’m going to put on my big people pants & show the world that I belong. 

I promised on Twitter that this gif would be in my next blog post, regardless of context. Pretend it has context

Whether it’s at work, in your personal life, or any other aspect of your life, show the world that you belong, that you are valuable, and that you can be successful and happy exactly as you are (unless you’re a racist or a serial killer, then you should probably go to jail). The best times of your life will come when you embrace who you are and use your strengths to your advantage, instead of hiding them behind a wall. So, shine your light, and show the world that you belong. 

This Town

Time sure flies when you’re on an adventure. 

It’s been two years since I decided to pack up my life and move across the country to build my portfolio. Its been a interesting journey, full of highs and lows, victories and defeats, but through all of it, I’ve met some of the best people and gotten to do some of the coolest things. I’ve accomplished so much and (until the next adventure calls) this feels like home. 

Because it’s home, I have a life here. So, today, I’ll be going to my favourite salon so my girl Tess can brighten up the blonde. If you need a YEG stylist, feel free to email me & I will give you some deets, because there is no better stylist than Tess and the rest of the stylists at my salon. If not, then check out some photos of my various adventures in YEG (without photos of my children to protect their privacy). It’s been quite an adventure, but I wouldn’t trade the friends I’ve made, my beloved coworkers, and the lessons I’ve learned for anything. 



Since we’re talking about Tess, here’s a look at how she keeps me looking fab




The Lumineers 😍
I’ve met some of the best people here

It Ain’t Me

One thing I talk about frequently is my love of fitness. I super love it. Fitness is my favourite thing in the entire world. I love running. I love crossfit. I love yoga. But even though I love it, work, parenting, and life prevents me from working out as much as I want. I’m starting to realize that I need to work my way up to “the people at my gym go five days a week! I need to find time for six workouts or imma be a Mighty Morphin Failure Ranger!” 

When I started working out, it was six days a week with Stratusphere yoga. Then six days with Stratusphere Sculpt. But once I started running, I found six days to be too much. I ran every other day. So, three to four days a week. Then I added Crossfit. I went twice a week. During the winter I added some yoga at home twice a week. But as I added intensity, I found I needed downtime. Then I took six months off for an injury and three more because I had lost that WLCF loving feeling, where I would grab my gear and make a 7am class because those were my favourite people, outside of ones that shared my DNA. I’m so fortunate to have captured that again at my new gym. They are the best people in YEG. But sometimes I only get there once a week. And I might not want to run the next day. Then I look at the Fitbit that says I’ve only worked out twice and get down on myself. Then I eat shit…and feel like shit. 


Last night, I decided to FaceTime one of my two BFF’s, you might know him as heavy lifting outlaw Lift Bitches (give him a follow on the IG, you won’t be disappointed. PS I totally named his YouTube channel. Totally remind him that it’s great)! I love having a competitive powerlifter friend. I can talk about my progress, fears, etc. He gave me some real talk; yoga for six days (even bad ass yoga) is a lot less intense than two 5K runs and two WOD’s. Stop comparing myself to the guys in the competitors class and compare myself to last week’s MHC. Is she better? Eating better? Living better? Could I add more weight to my bar? Did I do an extra hanging knee raise before I felt scared? That’s the progress that matters. 


I keep forgetting that in October, I was basically starting my crossfit journey all over again. I can’t compare my progress to the competitors. I can’t even compare myself to WLCF me. I have to only focus on here and now MHC. My workouts have changed. Four days a week of crossfit and a 5K run followed by a half hour yoga cooldown is okay. No, I may not achieve my goal of a handstand push up by the end of the year. I may not hit a 200lbs back squat. But if I keep pushing forwards instead of stressing that I’m obviously not cut out for crossfit because my time was the slowest and my burpees were sloppy and I needed a rest day after a hard WOD, I’ll actually do those things. I need to be proud of the little victories, not kick myself. 

And always remember selfcare.

I sometimes wonder if my desire to be the best is hindering me. I fell in love with Crossfit because it’s a limitless journey to become healthier. Why am I always looking for the quick fix? Why do I feel like “the scale didn’t move this week. Am a fat failure. Break out the pizza.” I also wonder if I’m the only Crossfitter/person trying to be healthy who feels this way. 


So now, I’m going to focus on realistic goals. A realistic workout routine. In a few months, we’ll add a day or two, but right now, this is where I am, and that’s okay. I have to set goals that are right sized for me, not for the guy who can deadlift a million pounds and has been training without stopping for five years. He was probably struggling to get through that power snatch just like me once. But I’m never gonna deadlift a million pounds if I keep beating myself up for not working out six days a week. I’ve gotta trust the process…and myself. 

Hellfire

If you’re new to the party, let me bring you up to speed; I fucking love crossfit. 

My life doesn’t allow me to love it as much as I’d like, what with the late hours at work, parenting commitments, and even a nasty bout of bronchitis (don’t worry; didn’t call in to work once, still number one in the district for sales…for now). But no matter what, I’ll always find a way to squeeze in one class a week. I want to set a good example for the girls. I want to get healthier. Not to mention my gym crew is the coolest bunch of humans in YEG. I’m seeing progress. I’m building strength. All super rad. 

Which brings me to this past week. Thanks to YEG’s “let’s cram every season into 48 hours,” I have been sick af. The first day I didn’t feel like complete dog shit was today, when a last minute customer came in so I was activating instead. But hey, can’t play with my money. While most people welcome the rest, I’m legit angry because I just wanna go to the gym! 102 degree fever? Fuck it! Let’s go to the gym! However, one of our coaches is 26 weeks pregnant. You cannot go to the gym when you’re contagious with someone with a weakened immune system. She’s a warrior princess, still working hard while creating a human. The biggest part of being a teammate is thinking of others, so for the last week, I’ve sat out. 


But the more I sit out, either because I couldn’t breathe (or smell, but don’t worry asshole that thinks AXE is a single serving can hitting on me at work, I CAN SMELL YOU JUST FINE), or to make sure I’m not infecting my happy place, the more I realize that I literally HATE being a sedentary being. I can’t binge watch Netflix (but I CAN binge play BoTW), I can’t just do nothing. I feel like I wasted a day. I could have gone on an adventure with the girls, or had some patio drinks with a friend, or gone for a run. I’m not good at resting; I always want to be doing, learning, creating memories. 


I’m just not good at being a do nothing sort of human. That’s not to say binge watching Netflix is necessarily bad, I did it through Lemony Snicket’s a Series of Unfortunate Events. But it’s not for me. I want to maximize my little free time by doing actual stuff. I want to accomplish things with it…mostly spend time with my girls (because single moms can be hands on and available) and gains. 


That may not be super exciting to anyone else, but the most important thing I can do as a woman, a mom, and a writer, is to figure out who I am as a human. After discovering, it’s even more important to accept who I am, and that person would rather go for a walk or go to the gym than veg out. When I can’t take in a WOD or go for a run, I feel like I’m letting my body down. When I have a good day at work and a great workout, I feel like the most bad ass woman alive. I’m done apologizing or being made to feel like my interests aren’t exciting. Maybe they aren’t, but they are to me. There are so many people in this world who like to mock my crossfit love, or that I don’t watch TV (except for the wrasslin). People mock that I watch wrestling. They mock that I’d rather go running, or read Gone Girl before I watch the movie. But I don’t do things to please the planetary narrative that it’s cool to be lazy and people who are different are weirdos. I do them to be myself, & I’m quite content to be me. 

When someone tells me crossfit is dumb

Don’t ever let anyone tell you that your interests aren’t important, or the things that make you happy are stupid. Just do the thing and enjoy it. I’m going to continue to crossfit and celebrate my progress & feel good about who I am as a human…but first, let me regain the ability to breathe out of my nose. 

The Cure

What’s new? 

I’m really freaking tired. 

Part of this is because I’m currently participating in my annual May kick start; no caffeine, no fast food, no alcohol for thirty days (mother’s day is my one cheat day). It’s awful. I don’t drink, consume pop or coffee (often), but let me tell you that Red Bull is fantastic and I need more of it in my life. Also, did you know that tea is caffeinated? AND I LOVE THAT IT IS CAFFEINATED?! Fortunately my beloved Raspberry Mojito from David’s Tea is sans caffeine so I’ll be chugging that every second of my life thank you very much. 

Likely my blood

But I’m also too damn busy. I’ve managed to build up quite the little writing career. I used to just pitch articles, now people come to me and ask me to write their stuff. It’s like I have connections and stuff. I have a lineup of articles that need writing and submitting. I’m focusing on my day job because I want to be a success there. I spend my days off with the kids, or at the gym with the kids, or running. I literally have no free time. Add in no caffeine and MH goes something something. 


But I know I’m putting too much pressure on myself. I’m a sole support parent. I haven’t received child support in over two years. I can’t even get help to buy a loaf of bread, let alone help with birthdays or anything else. He’s always broke and too busy inventing conversations with our girls for the internet than actually being a dad. When I ask him when he plans to work, he hides behind the depression he won’t get help for, despite having universal health care for doctors and counselling through a hospital, and drug benefits for medication (which is totally an insult to those with an actual mental illness who fight, scratch, and claw every day to get healthier and live their lives. Two of my dearest friends are bipolar and they have more strength in them to get through one day then I probably do my whole life). 

Me when I hear another excuse

So that means everything is on me. All of it. I have to pay for hot lunches and class trips and birthdays and trips for ice cream and rent. I have to think about summer clothes and new sandals while he washed his hands of parental responsibility years ago. Drinking and partying are more important. So, I need to be successful to make sure they have everything that they need. This means that I go into every shift feeling like I need to sell as many phones as I can in order to get that commission to help support us. I have to complete as many articles as possible so that we have extra money, because it’s up to me to be mom and dad. But because I’m putting so much pressure on myself to be the best, I’m kind of falling off. I need to take deep breaths and relax (such a novel concept I know!), because all of this pressure to be the best cell phone helper boss lady/journalist/mom that is also dad/crossfit athlete that I’m not enjoying any of it! I’m literally living my dream life (minus the part where I am rich and married to Seth Rollins) and I’m not enjoying it because I keep putting all of this pressure on myself to be the best. 

So, tomorrow, I am going to go to work and I’m going to have fun. I’m working with my favourite co-worker (who is across the hall) and my two favourite members of the leadership team, so it’s going to be a great day. I’m going to use Sunday to go for a walk with my girls & feed ducks (but not geese because fuck geese), and then write my articles and meet my deadlines. Then I’m gonna relax. You can’t be successful if you’re under pressure. My boss, editors, they’re not putting me under pressure. It’s all me. I am putting myself under pressure, all because I want my family to thrive. 


It’s time for me to enjoy what I’ve built. I have the best life. My kids rule. My writing career is amazing. I have the best store and work with the best humans (or they’re across the hall from me, being the best humans). I put in all of this work to get here and I’ve gotta work to maintain it, but if I keep putting all of this pressure on myself, it’ll all cave in. So, no more taking on the weight of the world because I’m the only one holding it up. I’m going to embrace my life and enjoy what I’ve built, completely on my own, with no one to take credit for what I’ve built ever again. 

Turn it Up

Today, I’m gonna write a piece I call “the Ballad of Bayley.”

Last year, I told you about my teenage daughter’s love for Sasha Banks, today, it’s my younger two daughters and WWE Women’s Champion Bayley. 

The character of Bayley is arguably the most relatable character on TV. She’s a fan that got to live her dream. My 10 and 7 year old adore Bayley and everything she stands for. They once waited in the snow for six hours, in their hugger shirts and Bayley tassels just to catch a glimpse of their TV best friend (and hugs. Their goal in life is to get a hug from Bayley). My Twitter feed is dominated by photos of them in full Bayley cosplay. Bayley’s character was dismissed as being “Just Bayley.” She wasn’t special; just ordinary. But this mantra of “Just Bayley” was so important to her fan base of little girls. My own daughter is painfully shy. She struggles to make friends and when picked on for her small size and quiet demeanour (she’d rather read and do math than play sports), she decided she was “just her,” and that was enough. After all, Bayley was just Bayley and she became a champion. Being yourself is cool! While adults complained about Bayley’s character and direction, kids got the message; Bayley is herself and that’s enough, and if you just be yourself, you are enough. 


When Bayley made her way out at Wrestlemania 33, my two small girls squealed with joy, as their hero was finally living her dream. They sat in their Bayley gear and side ponytails, imitating her entrance. They cheered her on loudly from home, and big sister even joined in (after her beloved Sasha Banks got eliminated) & all three jumped up and down and cheered when Bayley retained her championship. They cried with her, their best friend won. My oldest, who wants to be a wrestler herself, said that she couldn’t wait for her moment like that, while the little two were so happy that their best friend Bayley won and when they got to school, they could talk about it with their girlfriends. 


Which brings me to why I adore this character so much. It isn’t just because she’s a good role model for my girls, or she’s relatable. It’s because I feel like she’s an overlooked but key reason why so many female fans are watching WWE. Yes, you have the Bella Twins, who introduced wrestling to the mainstream, and Sasha Banks and Charlotte, who made history, but Bayley is just as important, because she’s just Bayley. 


Just two years ago, my girls & I were among just a handful of women who watched WWE. This past October, we were among dozens of little girls with their side ponytails and tassels, screaming the lyrics to Bayley’s entrance song. While yes, there were other women who helped usher in a new era, the character of Bayley opened up a new world to little girls that had been previously excluded from. I remember when little MHC wanted to play wrestlers with her brother and his friends, with a Miss Elizabeth action figure in one hand and an Andre the Giant in the other and the boys laughing, saying girls can’t play. Teen MHC was mocked mercilessly for my HBK posters on my wall, while the boys said I only watched pay per views with them because I wanted them to like me. My own girls were picked on at live events by grown men because they chose Nikki Bella & AJ Lee shirts over male superstars. But the character of Bayley allowed little girls to feel included in a world they were originally banned from. The world of NXT, originally for die hard fans, became the world of Bayley. Each week Bayley brought her brightly coloured world to the ring, another little girl realized they belonged too.  Bayley allowed little girls to feel like they belonged, and she did it by being just Bayley. 


Representation matters. You can preach equality all you want, but unless you can see it, it’s not there. There are a great many women who helped pave the way for female fans to find role models, but for little girls, it took a best friend to give them a hug and tell them that they belonged anywhere they wanted to be and they deserved it by just being themselves. I sometimes think that we as adults get so caught up in our perception of promo quality or what we think that we miss the lesson; that it’s okay to just be you. Because of that, I think we don’t realize just how important or powerful a character like Bayley truly is. No gimmick, no catchphrase. She’s just like us and that’s just enough. 

Happier

Welp, another Crossfit Open in the books! 

LOOK AT THIS PERSONAL BEST. LOOK AT IT. LOOOOOOK

I can officially call myself the 26187 fittest person on the planet. That’s up 32K places on the leaderboard and I’m pretty proud of this. Last year, I had to miss the Open because I was sick af and the arthritis in my hips made everything unbearable. This year, I went in just wanting to get to know my gym family. I did, but I also pushed myself and remembered how strong and confident I can be. I’m feeling so inspired that I entered a crossfit competition designed for novice members. I may place last in everything, but it’ll be a fun day. It was so nice to have members suggest that I register because they wanted me to feel welcomed. So, I’ll bring the girls and crush some fitness (& then introduce them to coconut chips. Seriously, so good)!


This confidence has passed over to my work. I’m getting more confident when it comes to pitching stories (and out of the box ideas at work). I’ve always been a believer that no one will see the value in who you are if you don’t. So, I decided to take control of my career. It’s been working so far, as most of my kooky ideas have been successful. The store is growing. The team is successful. When I’m not here, I’m just writing for magazines. There is no downtime. When there is, it’s for the girls and crossfit. This is my life and it’s rad. 


I know when I last posted, I was struggling with how to tow the line & be true to myself. It’s hard when people tell you that being yourself somehow makes them look bad or detracts from their role. But I’ve realized after a chat with one of my bestest friends in this city that one person cannot dim someone else by encouraging them, or by trying to elevate others. You can only dim a person’s light by holding them back. I’ve been with people who hold people back. I’ve been with people who credited themselves with my cover stories, people who credited the respect I received from coworkers to “they must really want to make me happy at work.” I’ve been around friends who wanted to feed negativity under the guise of “telling it like it is.” One doesn’t dim by suggesting improvements for their workplace or being bubbly. I don’t deny that I’m a difficult human being with my stubborn streak, passionate opinions, and fiery temper. I’m sure my scatterbrained thought process & random singing in public places is frustrating to the super serious types out there, but I’d rather be unapologetically myself before I become someone else. 

Even though I’m a grown up, I still struggle with self esteem just like everyone else. Some days, when it seems like people don’t like you, just because you’re you, it can feel frustrating. You’ll doubt yourself and think you can’t. My friends and family can tell me I’m awesome, but I’ve got to believe it. It’s up to me to build myself up, not those around me. Too many people think if they have a relationship, they have a car, if they have the right job; they’ll be happy. But the truth is that they’re settling for unhappy relationships, unhealthy relationships, and unhealthy senses of self. My happiness is an inside job. So, when I start wondering if I’m enough, it’s my job to look self doubt in the face and give it a sassy ass stare down. 

But I don’t mind moments of self doubt. They’re good reflectors. And each week at the Crossfit Open, I would push myself a little harder. And through that I reminded myself that I am totally capable of being super bad ass. No one was lifting those weights or doing those walking lunges for me. I did it, on my own. And I used that feeling of accomplishment in that part of my life to help with my emotional strength. This paid off at work, with my writing, and even building my interpersonal relationships. 

So, don’t feel badly if you spend a couple of days thinking you suck and can’t do it. Just find whatever it is that you use to help you find your mojo. I use crossfit. A dear friend of mine hikes. My best friend hits the gym. Another friend paints. But find the thing that brings out your “youness” and embrace yourself, with every difficult part of you, flaw, and imperfection. 

Eraser

Oh hey. I swear I didn’t die. 

I think I fell into a rabbit hole. I took my staycation to unwind and recharge…and save the magical land of Hyrule from Calamity Ganon. I also dyed my hair rose gold to match my phone. That’s a thing that I did. 


But mostly, I’ve reached a point in my life where I may be too busy. I’m currently working on several articles, including one highlighting an upcoming event for the city, which is really cool. I’m integrating into my new store (with the coolest staff EVER). I’m a hands on single mom. I’m crossfitting. I’m juggling a lot of stuff, and most of it actually pays me. So, the writing that pays me takes  priority to the writing that does not & my blog fell off of the map a little bit. Of course, so did my social media. So did anything that wasn’t journalism, my kids, my store, and crossfit…or my Nintendo Switch. I’m very focused on my goals and in order to achieve them, everything else needs to take a backseat. Sorry not sorry. 

I’ve built my life to my perfect specifications. My writing career is coming along wonderfully. My phone career is getting there. When I’m not at work, I’m doing interviews and writing. Even on weekends. Literally every day of my life involved pitching, researching, writing articles. My team and my colleagues respect me & that means the world to me. My kids are doing well. I finally found a gym where I’m happy and I’m not willing to let anything upset the apple cart. This means sometimes things get neglected because I’m simply too busy, like my blog, or that hockey game with my coworkers, or that date with the guy who works at my old mall. My girlfriends tell me that I’ll never find a mate because I never put the guys I’ve dated recently first. I don’t. In fact, the last guy I dated back in the fall was so low on my totem pole that it’s why it didn’t work out. But the kids, my career, and fitness all come first. Everyone and everything else needs to take a backseat. I’m not going to expand my portfolio, help my store reach target, or hit a 200lbs back squat if I’m putting things or people who don’t matter, or can wait, ahead of it. Truthfully, I’ve never really been “wife” material. I’m not the “surrender my identity and goals at the altar of a man to be Mrs. Not my last name.” I want to be more. I want to be a role model to my girls. I want to be someone that achieves her goals and is changes the world in some way. I want to be seen as someone who is strong, brave, tenacious, and not someone who settles. As a wise woman once said, “I want so much more than some provincial life.” I have goals and I’m not going to waste my time on frivolous things when I could focus my energy on achieving those goals. 


I’m sure that I sound like a super bitch. Truthfully, I don’t care. I’m finally putting all of the pieces together to build the life that I want for myself and I’m not willing to settle for substandard or mediocre; whether it’s people or performance. I’m not going to let anyone in my life unless they are amazing. I’m not going to devote my time to any projects unless I think that I can do an incredible job. I’ve stretched myself pretty thin, so I’ve prioritized my life to make sure that the things that matter take precedence over stuff that can wait, because my kids, my goals, they cannot wait. 


But there’s nothing more exciting than working towards your dreams. I am so in love with my life. I’m getting everything I’ve ever wanted, I have the best family, I have made the most supportive friends. It’s awesome. I’m so happy. So, while I may fall down the rabbit hole sometimes, you can still find me on Twitter if you need to know what’s up with me. Chances are, I’ll be overjoyed with life while continuing to build it the way I want it. 

Shape of You

Let me tell you the story of MHC’s terrible, awful, no good, very bad day. 

Actually, it’s probably been about a month of terrible, no good, very bad, but let’s focus on today. 

Today, I woke up, fully planned to kick today’s ass. I really did. I had my game face on, I was excited. Truthfully, despite some personal setbacks, I’ve been super jazzed about life. I’ve been writing some really great articles. I’ve been pitching some awesome stories. I’m currently working on something I’m really excited to share with the community. I’ve been transferred to another location as part of a business restructuring and I’ll be starting at my new store in March. It’s closer to my house and the girls’ school. And then I’m treating myself to a week’s staycation to rest and recharge from my crazy February schedule. I’ve been enjoying the gym. It’s been awesome. 

Which brings me to today. 

Today my kid had an epic tantrum. Like EPIC. I left for work feeling a shitty mom, a shitty neighbour, and a shitty human being. I spent all day in kind of a funk because I felt like the WORST MOM EVER. I work so damn much to keep us fed and clothed that I feel like I’m not giving enough time to them. I mean, I pay someone to clean my house now because I want it done and I have no time. Then they act out sometimes because they are kids & kids do that sometimes. And sometimes I yell back because moms yell sometimes. And in the end, I just feel like an asshole. 

Sometimes I get caught up in the social media trap. I see everyone’s seemingly perfect kids and lives and no one worries about money, their kids always behave and everyone’s house is immaculate and I think “why can’t I be that person? Why am I not the person with the dream job and the perfect car and kids who never ever talk back?” Sometimes I just feel like I can’t measure up. I’ll always be white trash trying to make good. My self esteem takes a hit and I just feel awful. Good moms balance. They do it all right. No mistakes ever. Not like me, who just keeps fucking it all up. 

Then I come home, lay in my tub, do some yoga, and recognize that this is total bullshit. 

Everyone has a bad week or month. Everyone has one of those days where they took a time out to bawl their eyes out because they are so burned out and feel like they handled it all wrong and sit up late at night thinking they are a horrible parent/partner/friend. But if you keep thinking really positively and focus on the good things while making changes, you’ll make it through. 

Today, I was lucky enough to have my friend Paul call me to help me feel better. Bad days happen. Shake it off. Another friend texted me a positive affirmation. My best friend Melissa texted me positive Seth Rollins memes because she gets me. But when I asked each of them why I was failing as a mom, they all reminded me of a time that they did not win parenting. Or housekeeping. Or relationships. Or jobs. It’s easy to feel like you won’t measure up when you’re constantly comparing yourself to invisible competition and FB highlight reels. But I’m not failing as a mom. Or a person. It was just one no good, very bad day. 

When I feel like the world is gonna crush me, I immediately think of everything good that has happened, big or small (a trick I learned from Katniss Everdeen). I think of the nice ladies at Hudson Bay who gave great customer service. I think of the feel good story I found on Reddit. I think about the cool things my kids do. I think about how much I’ve improved at the gym. How rad my friends are. And suddenly, I don’t feel like my life is garbage anymore. 


There’s no instruction manual on how to juggle single parenting, career, home, and being a decent human being. Sometimes I’ll get it right. Sometimes I won’t. But I can’t spend my days beating myself up about the days that I don’t. If I do, I’ll never have any good days. So, the next time there is a no good, very bad day, I’ll take thirty seconds to remember that I’m not competing with the highlight reels, it’s okay to not know how to handle everything and sometimes you just need to learn on the fly and forgive yourself if you didn’t do it right and learn for next time.