Private Eye

My favourite game to play online is “read my old Facebook memories and remember how cringy I used to be.”

I’ve always been a pretty ridiculous person, I always remind people that the more trauma you’ve been through, the funnier you get to be, so naturally, I am the most hilarious person on this planet (I have references). But I also don’t really shy away from cringy or stupid, and I’m always so amused by how much dumb shit I used to post online. Over the years I’ve realized how important it is to be fiercely protective of yourself and your life, which is why my social media feed is mainly just memes and my cats. When you give too much of yourself, you open up yourself for people to take parts of you. That’s something I’ve learned is a non negotiable.

(Although I also learned that I was ahead of the COVID curve by about four years)

This also helped me learn that I’ve lived in Edmonton for NINE YEARS. Guys. I stayed in one place for nine years! Through the stalker ex boyfriends that showed up at my hotel, job changes, life changes, friendships, and 300 bad dates, I am still here. Who saw this coming?I wonder if it’s because I truly love my home city, or simply because I’ve run out of places to run. Vancouver is pretty expensive, and after that it’s the ocean. I’d run east but I’m allergic to fish so what do I eat in the Maritimes? I always vowed never to backtrack, so maybe I’ve reached the limits of how far I can run.

Those who know me well know that when it comes to fight, flight, or freeze, I only have one response; run. Name your scenario and I assure you I have run from it. Job losses, breakups, mild inconveniences, a fierce desire to escape my hometown and never return, there is no situation where I can’t look at it and go “yup, I’m out of here,” and run like Hell. I have run from every relationship I’ve ever had, save for the one I should have sprinted away from like Usain Bolt. I once fled a party in the middle of the night thanks to a conversation that consisted of only two words. Hell, I tried to run away from my own wedding, and only said “I do” because of the rain. You name it, I’ve probably bolted out the door as far away from it as humanly possible. Men who could have been good for me (or terribly bad for me) have been left in the dust as I pleaded with my mind to invent a reason why it could never work and run into the night. I’ve never stayed in one place for more than three years because there’s always something I need; to write, to escape, to create space. No where was off limits except for my hometown; I used to wish on stars that I’d leave and never look back. Some people look at their hometown as a fun nostalgic place. For me it’s a source of trauma that slowly chipped away at the bright eyed little girl I was, leaving the woman that I am. While I take solace that the trauma has made me HILARIOUS, the more space I can put between me and that town of evil, the better.

(Somewhere, a cousin or a friend is gonna read this and tell me it’s not that bad, but I assure you, you will never convince me. I can be stubborn, and I will never back down on this point)

But I’m still here. Sure the house isn’t the same, as it took me a couple of tries to find the right one, but my house provides me with a sense of stability I’ve never really had outside of living in my foster home. There are no spectres of tenants past haunting the walls or my mailbox. Gone are the days of wondering who the person behind the mis-delivered credit card bills is; this is my home. My daughter intends to start university here in the fall and I am so fiercely proud of that young woman. My job is the most fun I’ve ever had in the workforce. It combines my favourite things; playing with new tech, and talking your ear off until you will hear my voice in your sleep. My friends are here. Even though my best friend out here is a Markham export, I couldn’t navigate life without her and her insanity. She’s the best human being alive (she will tell you she is evil), and my life is made better because she’s my friend and we have ramen. But every friend I’ve made out here has been the best person, and while I miss my friends back home (I haven’t seen anyone in SIX YEARS), I wouldn’t want to do life without the weirdos out here I call my friends.

Look at this ramen

As part of my never ending quest to be the best type of person I can be, I’ve allowed my therapist to really help me dive in to the why factor. Why is it that I always need to leave? Part of it was to escape a childhood that left me abused and damaged that I was terrified I wouldn’t be a good person. Most of my formative years were spent fleeing from situations; evictions, poverty, cycles of abuse. The only stability I ever had was in a foster home and that was only six years. I don’t think I ever knew what stability was and I decided it had an expiration date on it. The only time I ever doubled down was on my marriage, where I was determined to make it work, even though everyone and their dog knew it was wrong, including me. Between the feelings like I owed him and the guilt that stemmed from trying to race out of there, I resigned myself to staying, no matter how poorly I was treated or how many bruises I ended up with. I always joke that I’ve been engaged twice and married once, and never has it been my decision. If you ever run into him, he will tell you how I’m a life ruining succubus that destroyed his potential, but every story needs a villain, maybe I’m his. The only thing of permanence in my life was my role as a mother to my children. Homes, cities, relationships are all expendable except for them, and they come with me.

So why am I still here? What is it about Edmonton that keeps me here? Is it the space that allows me to live in a big city without feeling suffocated? Is it my friends? The close proximity to mountains? Did I finally exorcise my demons and leave them with the leeches in Lake Huron, never to haunt me again. Maybe it was the desire to give my kids stability. Maybe I secretly love the cold. Truthfully, I couldn’t tell you, but for the first time in my life, I feel like I have a real home and no desire to check indeed and pack up again. The feeling of “home” that I’ve chased since I was a child seems to be here, or I’ve deluded myself, but either way, it’s magical. Every time someone visits me I show them around like a proud parent at the art fair. I even like the Oilers. Maybe it’s because I started dedicating myself to giving back to this community that has brought me the peace and belonging I’ve craved since I was five years old that I finally can stop moving (unless I switch houses again, but I doubt it. I’ll die here).

My therapist thinks that perhaps my desire to stay in Edmonton and build a less nomadic life for my family is a sign of growth, and I can finally stop running away from my emotions. I can assure him that’s probably not the case, as one time someone got all let’s talk about our feelings and I almost crashed my car into a Volvo. But it’s nice to see that I’m capable of remaining in one place and finding the feeling of home.

Now That We Don’t Talk

It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?

I realized that I haven’t really had the energy to write anything in a long time. The truth is that I didn’t know what to write about. I didn’t really feel confident in my abilities in really anything, and for a long time I’ve been going through the motions. But I’ve been sitting at home down sick with the flu, which has freed up some time to actually be creative and write something.

There hasn’t been much to discuss. I’ve been grieving the loss of a twenty year friendship and it’s crushed me to my core. I have actually mourned this more than my divorce, and even several deaths. This was more than a friendship; they were quite literally the most important non related person in my entire life. I genuinely felt like they were my human in this life, and I didn’t even care how one sided the friendship was getting. I was begging to make plans, they only reached out when they needed to vent. When I was at rock bottom, navigating my weight, my mom, and my mentally ill teenager, I broke down over a pair of pants. Was it dramatic? OF COURSE I WAS OVERLY DRAMATIC! But I didn’t need to hear that. I wanted someone to see that I was breaking down under the pressure of my reality and just tell me that they cared and offered anything; a coffee, a hug, a stiff drink. Instead, I bawled alone on my bedroom floor in silence. I’ve sobbed on my floor so many more times since then; on my birthday, when I didn’t hear from them at all. On their birthday, when I extended an olive branch, desperately wanting my friend, only to be left on read. Even now, I catch myself when something happens in my day, or I get a new meme, because that’s the first person I want to talk to. From that positive work review, to my possible reconciliation with a former flame, I grab my phone to text, and then remember there’s no point. With my divorce, I was happy to be finally free, but this is like having a limb hacked off and expected to be the same. It’s really rattled me in ways I’ve never imagined.

But much like in all things, it’s important to take this experience and use it to grow. I’ve been doing a lot of reflection. I asked my most honest of all of the friends if I was off base over ramen. She said of course I was dramatic, because I’m always dramatic. However, a little basic human empathy would have been nice, and it’s a good thing I didn’t call her, because she has only one feeling.

This is actually not true, and she’s the best person ever. She has been with me during some of the darkest times, taken my daughter to the hospital, and was the only person who showed up to my holiday party even though she had been in a car wreck three days earlier. We need more people like her in our lives).

This gave me an epiphany. I’ve been trying so hard to get back to the old me, but the old me is dead and gone.

I loved the old me, and I currently hate the current me. But I also have to accept that the old me is gone. She died under the weight of a million tasks, inflation, and exhaustion. She can’t come back because she isn’t right for this version of my life and that’s okay. So I realized I needed to grieve for the person I used to be, because she can’t live in this current reality. I need to let her go so I can rebuild her as someone who I can love again.

That didn’t mean that pieces of her can’t come back. It just meant that some things would never be the same. Instead of praying to be who I used to be, I had to look at my life and ask “who am I now?” And then learn to love her. I keep getting stuck because I’m trying to get back to a person who can’t exist anymore. My life has changed dramatically since then. I’m now a full time caregiver to an elderly parent. I work a completely different job. Inflation has changed how much extra money I have. I enjoy being alone more than I ever have before. There isn’t a world to house the old MHC anymore because it’s also dramatically changed. I’ve been failing at all of my goals because I keep trying to walk backwards to a life and a world that isn’t there anymore. I’ve spent years learning to pivot and move forward no matter how bad things got in my life, but I fell into a holding pattern and couldn’t get out.

So, I started making it a point every day to do something to get out of Groundhog Day. From weekend cardio with my 6km walks to Starbucks, working out at night, and making it a point to get a good night’s sleep every night. In order to get back to a person I like, I have to create her from the ground up again. Sometimes it feels so exhausting to constantly have to adapt, but as my daughter would say “sucks.” The truth is that we will always have to adapt. Marriages end, friendships fall apart, relatives die, jobs can be lost. But you can’t just expect to go back to the way it used to be when the way it used to be no longer exists. Instead, you just have to learn how to become the best version of you in your new reality.

The Great War

Have you ever looked in the mirror and not even recognized yourself anymore?

That’s how I feel. I don’t even recognize this person anymore. This year has been so challenging and it’s pretty much stripped away all of my best qualities, to the point where I feel like a tired old lady just ready to live with my cats and wither into dust. My finances are a mess, thanks to layoffs and lesser paying jobs, and the lack of child support. Every time I have to say no, I just feel bad. Parents should be able to afford a Slurpee, or a trip to McDonald’s, without counting all of the crack change. I should be able to send my eleventh grader lunch money. I should be able to go shopping for cute winter clothes. But instead, I’m always saying “next time,” and I know deep down they resent me because next time never comes. I’ve cut out everything that brings me any semblance of joy except for my morning cup of tea and even then, I don’t get one three days a week because I was putting money away for Xmas. I haven’t been to the gym in forever but I never picked up my shoes. I felt like if I did, it was defeat, that I would never go back. I don’t go out with my friends. Hell, I barely text. Also, if you’re my friend, I’m sorry I suck at communicating. I hate my weight, my hair, my skin, everything about my appearance and I just feel like I’ve failed at pretty much everything. It’s been a struggle to get out of bed some days. The cup isn’t half full or half empty; it’s just empty.

I suppose the last two years has taken its toll. There’s only so much you can give of yourself before you have nothing left, like the giving tree. And it’s only so long before you snap. I had two of those moments. The first one was when I needed coverage at work for a family emergency and I was told there was no one. Something in my brain snapped. For years I helped EVERYONE. Needed a shift covered? MHC. Needed help with staffing? MHC. Sick days? psh! I ONLY TOOK ONE DAY OFF FROM WORK WHEN I ALMOST DIED! And yet, the universe said “no one wants to go to where you are,” while I cried at work needing help. I called one of my colleague friends and bawled because he is an Angel sent from God. He found me some help and I could go home. But the whole way I was enraged. I loved my colleagues. I’m forever grateful to my DM for giving me a job, but I realized in that second I was right back where I was last year; trapped in a job I had to devote every second of myself to. I wanted to give my DM that person, but I don’t have it in me to give anymore. She deserves a top performer who can give her that level of buy in.

So I quit.

I found a new job with a living salary and more work life balance. I gave my notice and starting next month, I can stop selling phones once and for all and do a job that allows me to use my skills; training, development, and support. I’m excited. I was shocked I got it tbh. Do you know how many awesome candidates are looking for work? And I’m just me. But it’s a much needed change. I’ll be able to see my kids and clean my house. Maybe pet my cats. Maybe go on more dates and finally see my friends. I haven’t hung out with one of my best friends since July. It sucks dude. It’s gonna be nice to do stuff with my people again starting with the annual holiday party.

But, that was just one moment of clarity, the other came when I was a casualty of the Great War, AKA the battle to see my Lord and Saviour, Taylor Allison Swift.

I haven’t been anywhere in years. I couldn’t even go to my friend’s wedding. My kids are tired from school, teen pressures, and helping take care of their grandma when I’m at work. They deserved a trip. The opening act (Gracie Abrams) is my 15yo’s fave non Taylor performer. So I socked away every cent I had for nosebleeds. I gave up every minor luxury I have, banked the rest. I knew the tour was coming and I was going to come through. I had Verified Fan access that was supposed to carry me to the presale. I would use my income tax refund for flight and hotel, and for once, I wasn’t gonna say no. I was going to give them this one thing for Xmas and our Taycation was going to be magical. Instead, I got this.

My heart broke as the tire fire known as ticketmaster shut me out. I went to stubhub only to have my life ruined. My tiny little amount for our four shitty nosebleeds couldn’t even cover one ticket, let alone four. I had to say no again. No Taycation. No happy kids at Xmas that mom came through. Just another time I had to disappoint them. Between my work schedule, and my bank balance, and the realization that I wasn’t coming through for them, my brain broke again.

I COMPLETELY understand this is a first world issue. I am well aware that not taking my kids to see Taylor Swift won’t ruin my life. But it was just another no. Another “not this time.” I know it wasn’t my fault, and Ticketmaster is the dirt worst, but suddenly all of those times I had to say no flooded my brain; the slurpees, the tacos, the new shirt, that used CD, the discounted book, the hair dye, all of it. Every next time, or I’m sorry we don’t have it, every one just flashed through my eyes like a death scene in a movie, ending with the emptiness that this concert that meant so much to them was now, just another no. So I sat in my car and cried. I’d tell myself it’ll be okay, but we all know it’s not. It’s another thing I couldn’t do while the parents around me take their kids to Mexico for spring break and buy concert tickets for good grades. I moved them to a more affluent area and sometimes barely make rent, but I did it so they’d get a better education. But now they see how much more their friends parents can do for them. They’re good kids. They get good grades. They help at home, and are good to their friends and cats. But I let them down spectacularly every day and it just sucks.

After I was done my crying and generally being miserable, wallowing in how 2022 has been the absolute worst. It challenged me physically, mentally, and I’ve lost so much financially and I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I used to take so much pride in my appearance, in my work ethic, and in my life. Now, I just don’t care. I dug a hole and I couldn’t get out. Getting a new job is awesome, but I need to fix me or I’m just transferring the misery. So, I got to work. I deep cleaned my house. I started working out at home. I called a credit counsellor to work through my debt, whether it’s through a debt management program or a consumer proposal. It sucks, but it’s what I need to do. If I don’t have to stress about money as much, little things won’t get to me, and there will be fewer instances of no. I started getting up earlier and actually wearing makeup again. I started going to bed at a reasonable time. Also, I started forgiving myself for the things I’ve been beating myself up about. I can’t change that I got laid off. I can’t fix that I put on weight because I couldn’t work out for five months. I can’t change the fact that Ticketmaster sucks. But what I can do is change my situation. I can keep watching stubhub and seat geek for cheap resale tickets. I can keep an eye for Canadian dates. I can make time to work out. I can focus on budgeting smarter with the help of the counsellor. That will help me have more money to go to the gym and say yes to a few of those smaller things. I can go into my new job motivated and excited. I can continue to focus on being a present and active parent. These are things I can change.

While the answers aren’t ideal, at least there feels like a light at the end of the tunnel, except for the Taylor Swift tickets. That shit is just hopeless. But I will be able to look in the mirror in a few months and recognize who I’m looking at, and maybe even like that person too.

Strangers

Oh, Hello!

It’s been a minute! Truthfully, I haven’t had much to talk about. I’ve been focused on my family, and adjusting to my new job, and weight loss. Not terribly interesting stuff. Weight loss has been a struggle, and after my visit with the endocrinologist, I was left even more frustrated. Apparently I was misdiagnosed with PCOS, and there’s another issue, but I had to plead for blood work to figure it out. I just got “have you considered being less fat?” YES. YES I HAVE. But then instead of addressing the actual symptoms, it was just here’s a weight loss shot. I’m getting blood work, but I had to yell at the doctor to get it. It’s absolutely shameful that women’s health is completely ignored unless you want to get pregnant. I ended up taking medication and nearly died for legit no reason and I am actually really angry about it. I’m very hesitant to take medication after what happened in April. So, I’ll go ask for a second opinion from another OB/GYN, but until then, I’m going to have to take control of my health on my own, without help from doctors who have no interest in investigating women’s health.

One thing that has been tough about weight loss has been that I have no goal to work towards. Before, I would pick a goal and work towards it, like my friend’s wedding, or the lululemon 10k. But there was no 10k and the pulmonary embolism has forced me to start all over again in terms of fitness. But I’ve finally completed my treatment, which means two things; I can get back to running, and I can drink again.

Okay not really. Anyone who knows me knows I drink on my birthday and sometimes Xmas

I’ve been thinking a lot about what is a good fitness goal for me. I really want to work towards something big, something meaningful. Like those people who do Tough Mudder, but without the masochism, and the making Tough Mudder your entire raison d’être. That’s when I decided that I’m going to quit eating fast food (except one cheat meal a month) and I am going to save all of my coins, and compete in the Ultimate Hawaiian Trail Run!

Photo courtesy of @ultimatehawaiiantrailrun. Give ‘em an IG follow!

All the money raised is to help at risk youth through the Keala Foundation. It combines all of my favourite things: fitness, helping others, and vacations. It’s a big goal to train for that requires me to stick to fitness goals, give up fast food, and stick to a budget, all things I’ve been trying really hard to do. I’m finally getting the hang of my new job and adjusting back to being in the store. I’m looking at how to better financially plan so I can get my debt under control, as well as reducing some costs by scaling back some cable and cellular services. I need to get healthier, so eating at home was the cheapest start. Until I can get back to the gym, it’ll be home based workouts with Deadboys Fitness and starting Couch to 5K again. I can’t keep obsessing about the year I was set back being treated for something I didn’t have. I need to focus on what is in my control, which is eating right, better financial planning, and exercise. Will I lose a ton of weight? Maybe. I did it before. Or maybe I’ll finally get answers about why I’m struggling with my health. But I know working towards some kind of goal will help me stay on task.

The other thing that is critical is eating right; no diets, no tricks. I have teenagers and I have to teach them healthy body image, including a positive relationship with food. That’s how I lost all of the weight before. No more intermittent fasting, or fad diets. I’ll watch my macros in MyFitnessPal, but that’s it. I’m a role model to three young people, I have to make sure they’re seeing someone getting healthy but not skipping meals or being really restrictive. It’s gonna be about choosing the right foods; not changing my entire diet to yo-yo with my weight.

I’m not going to pretend it’s all going to work out, but I am going to be gentle with myself while working very hard to improve. The more work I put in, the better the returns, so I’ll just keep working and keep positive, excited to see change…and hopefully go to Hawaii to run in mud and raise money to help others, which is always a good time.

Sensitive

Let me tell you about the time I could have died.

I’ve been pretty open about my weight gain and battle with PCOS. Part of that required me to take medication. I was prescribed birth control to help regulate symptoms. I’ve been taking it for a few months now, and originally I saw results. But lately I’ve noticed symptoms returning and I needed to change some things about my diet and how I exercise. I’ve been moderating my diet more, and being more cautious about what I eat, and working out before bed. My workout is what triggered this entire saga, so buckle up, as this is quite the ride.

During my Deadboys Fitness workout, I suddenly got really dizzy and needed to lay down. I assumed I was dehydrated and drank water. But I still kept feeling disoriented. I asked one of the kids to get me a snack, thinking maybe my blood sugar was low. Nothing helped. When my Apple Watch advised me my heart rate has spiked significantly walking to my bathroom, I decided maybe it was time to call an ambulance.

Now, anyone who identifies as female will tell you how important it is to advocate for yourself during a medical event. I’ve learned through the years from caring for my mom that medical professionals do not like to listen to women. Even my own health issues were largely ignored for months. I knew something was wrong; I had been hiking with one of my best friends three days earlier! Those lateral hops were nothing! But the EMT kept dismissing my concerns as “anxiety,” as my vitals were fine. But I wasn’t fine. I was winded bending over to pick up my phone. I spent hours in a waiting room in a wheelchair because walking ten steps wore me out. My chest and throat were burning like I ran a half marathon. Even the nurses said since three EKG’s, and a blood oxygen test were fine, I needed to go home. It was just stress. I insisted I see the doctor. I’m not normally one to demand things, but I’m grateful I did. The doctor said that while I looked fine, it didn’t hurt to check a few other things. So he requested an x-Ray, more blood work, and a d-dimer test, to check for clots. Within what felt like three minutes, a nurse rushed in saying we needed a CT scan RIGHT NOW. I had to take off my necklace and get into a gown ASAP. The first IV was removed to make room for IV number two. The next little bit was a blur: X-rays, needles, then a move to an observation room as my old room in the ER was taken (along with my necklace, that never made it back to me. I’m absolutely heartbroken, as the ring around my neck was a gift from my oldest friend), and now I’m hooked up to a heart monitor, blood pressure machine, and blood is being drawn from my HAND because there are no more veins in my arms available thanks to multiple blood draws and IV’s. I hadn’t eaten or drank in 13 hours. I hadn’t slept in 30 hours. There isn’t a single part of me that isn’t in mind numbing pain and worst of all, I can still barely breathe. The wait is long and miserable and that IV is driving me insane. Finally, a doctor appears and starts asking a bunch of questions:

– Do I smoke? (No)

– How often do I work out? (3-4 times/week)

– What medications am I on? (birth control)

Doctor has an “a ha!” moment. The medication triggered this. Finally I get answers. There are blood clots in my lungs, known as a pulmonary embolism. I caught it early so j should recover fully, but had I just gone to sleep, I could have suffered a cardiac event or stroke and even died. My 15yo basically saved me by waking me up out of concern. I also learned that doctors don’t enjoy black humour as a coping mechanism. Answering “obviously I’m killing it,” when asked how I was doing is the wrong answer. Who knew?

But for the next few months, things have to change; no crossfit or running for two months, blood thinners for four. No alcohol, stricter diet, and lots of rest. I also need a different treatment for PCOS. It’s a scary time and combined with my other stressors (caring for my elderly mom, raising my family, trying to find a second job to combat inflation), it’s a lot. When the doctor asked if I could reduce my stress levels, I just laughed. This was the worst time for a health issue. I won’t lie; I’m scared. I’m going to be at risk for blood clots for the rest of my life. I don’t want my kids to have to worry if mommy is gonna be okay. Right now they have to help me around the house and it’s insane. I’m supposed to take care of them, not the other way around. I’m back at work two days later because I just can’t afford to take time off. I rarely receive child support and I just can’t risk the financial hit. It’s very depressing to know you can’t afford to get sick. Also, I’ve never done well doing nothing. This has been an emotional roller coaster.

But, much like everything bad that happens in life, there’s always something positive you can find if you look hard enough. My friends and colleagues all stepped up to check in on me and offer accommodations so I can work. My oldest offered to buy her siblings some summer clothes so I wouldn’t have to stress. My other daughter offered to let me hang out with her creepy doll so I wouldn’t be lonely on bedrest. My oldest friend called me to check in, because he knew not only was I upset about my health, but by the loss of my necklace, and he took the time to check in. One of my best friends offered to help us do my groceries. My amazing boss checked in all day while I was in the hospital. My downstairs neighbour made sure to check in with the kids so I wouldn’t worry. Everyone I know made sure to help me feel loved and supported. It’s nice to know that when times are tough, I’ve got a bunch of people who have my back. A lady can’t help but feel gratitude when so many people are there for you in a crisis situation. The world is full of amazing people and I’m fortunate enough to call many of them friends.

The next few months are gonna be tough, but we will make it through, just as we have always done before. I’ll be healthier, and probably happier. I’ll also have learned that I don’t need to do everything myself, and that it’s okay to ask for help sometimes; especially if that time is “I almost died.” I’ve always put everyone ahead of myself, so I’m going to use this time to take care of myself, because I can’t be a good mom from the great beyond.

I Bet You Think About Me

Well y’all. Another year is over, although it feels like Marchvember 57 of 2020. It’s been an interesting year. I quit my job and found a workplace that’s collaborative and full of leaders who want to see everyone grow together. I put my mental health first and took steps to get as healthy as possible. I took steps to improve my physical wellness so I can get back on the weight loss train. I’m excited to be my best self again. As always, I compiled a photo essay of my fave memories (excluding my children). If you ever want to watch my ridiculous life in real time, follow my dumb ass on Snapchat!

Happy holidays everyone and I’ll have more adventures in 2022!

Peace out toxic job

When my house finally got grass

Best birthday cake!

That time I chopped off all of my hair

I am Not a Woman, I’m a God

I’ve been thinking a lot about growth.

I’ve always strived to improve as a person and the last year or so, I didn’t really do that. I basically sat around, got fat, and let the depression take me. I also learned that you never realize how bad something is for you until you get rid of it. Since I left my old job a month ago, my hair isn’t falling out as much. I work out again. I sleep better, my skin care routine is better. Oh, and I take vitamins every morning. I’m more optimistic and peppier. I just feel good about myself and my life for the first time in a long ass time.

I’m really excited about my future again. I don’t feel 100% confident to jump into dating, mostly because I don’t totally like myself. Also, I’m not sure online dating is for me. I need to get to know someone before I can pursue a relationship and I’ve run out of friends to date. But it’s not a subject that stresses me out anymore. If it happens, it happens. But I’m excited about who I’m going to become again.

One way I’ve gotten back on track is to focus on growth that isn’t about a scale number or a workout. It’s the stuff that has changed that I never thought was important but is. I pride myself on my house being clean and organized. Before I accepted that I’d never be the best housekeeper, but I’ve learned my family and I deserve better. I used to be afraid to drive; now I drive for a living! I’ve really prioritized taking care of my hair and skin, and I’ve been doing home workouts to get back into fitness. Sometimes you get so caught up in the idea that because one thing hasn’t changed, you aren’t growing. But I’ve been getting better in a bunch of other little ways. I’m not the person I want to be yet, but I’m trying and I’m gonna get there. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can get back in shape, be a good mom, do well at my job, let my hair grow back, and be the type of person who can be in a relationship with someone else. Now that I’m not under the weight of a toxic work environment, I feel like I am capable of success and that I deserve it. I’m surrounded by friends and colleagues that share my ideas of what winning together and cheering each other on actually means. It feels so good to be around people who want to build each other up, and celebrating successes with people I respect and admire.

The lesson I’ve learned is that if you waste all of your time feeling like a failure because one thing hasn’t worked, you’ll never see all of the ways you’re bettering yourself l. I spent years being made to feel like I was dumb, old, and incompetent at work, which made me feel like that at home. It sapped the life out of me and turned me into the failure they said I was. Now, I see all of the ways that wasn’t true and that I’m actually making baby steps to be better every day. I still have moments where I feel good big, ugly, and stupid, but I talk myself through them by listening to Lorde, Taylor Swift, and reminding myself of the changes I’ve made and that I’m better than I was last week or last year. Maybe by focusing on my growth in other areas, I can use that to hit my fitness goals.

So if you feel like you’re stuck, or you’re not getting better. Maybe you’re stuck in a rut. Maybe look at what else you’ve been doing. You’ve probably come so far and don’t even realize it. You’re still killing the game, just not in the way you felt like you weren’t, and even that will come. Just keep pushing forward and you’ll find the bad bitch you were always meant to be.

It’s Time To Go

Well y’all; I did a thing. I quit my job.

You’re probably wondering why I would quit my job after five years and have devoted almost every second of energy towards. So, let me answer! I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, about how I can get back to a version of me I’m really happy with. One of the things holding me back was a lack of work life balance. My job was smothering me. I was giving so much to everyone, but in return I wasn’t getting a whole lot. I had to miss the last day of school, and the last time the three kids walked home together and it super sucked. I was reaching a level of professional dissatisfaction that I could no longer ignore, but I was trying to because I loved the company, my clients, and my colleagues. Then a line of professionalism was crossed, and I realized that while I was working so hard to be a good teammate, I wasn’t seen as a teammate by one person, I was seen as someone you didn’t need to treat with basic respect. I wasn’t being respected by a person who’s respect I should have earned through my work performance. I was giving so much of myself to a job that wasn’t giving me anything back in return but migraines, stress, and exacerbated PCOS symptoms. I was only staying for my women’s program, my colleagues, and charity work. I was worn out, exhausted, and I didn’t like going to work anymore.

The world has a way of helping you realize that where one person won’t appreciate you; others will. Some former colleagues and friends suggested me for another company. The company contacted me and offered me a job with work life balance, better financial security, and the opportunity to build a philanthropy program that was ethical and did more than just raise money, but rather empower employees to do more for their communities. I loved my colleagues, but I’d be stupid not to see that this is better for me. I’d have time to be a mom, more time for my mom, and more time to live my life, instead of just work.

Chasing someone’s approval, whether it’s a partner, a friend, or a boss that will never see your value, will always suck the life out of you. Over the last few years, I’ve seen my confidence diminish to the point where I’m afraid to do anything. I am afraid if I go to the gym, I’ll just mess up and not do well. My self esteem is in the toilet. I’m always tired. You always hear about how the wrong manager or the lack of validation at work can run an employee ragged and it would bleed into the rest of their lives. This was me. I took extra shifts, I was the first to volunteer for projects, I participated on calls, and helped my colleagues. I kept trying and trying only to end most of my evaluations in tears and apologizing for minor things. I loved my job. I loved the company. But after I got off of the phone with my new boss, I felt more valued than I had in years. I’m excited to unplug. No more late night messages about what worked, no more calls on my day off. My days off are mine, which means I can go to the gym, I can go to the beach (which I did), I can go to a movie without my phone blowing up. And above all, I feel optimistic about my work life for the first time in forever.

So, while it broke my heart to leave a job where I got to work with so many amazing people and help the clients I’ve worked with for so many years, I had to start thinking my mental health and my needs. I’ve spent five years devoting myself to what was best for the company, but never what was best for me. So, while it wasn’t something I had planned, I made a choice that was best for me.

Despite my love for my company and colleagues and team, when I left, I felt relieved and like thirty pounds of stress was gone. I’ll miss my colleagues and team, but it’s been so much easier to get up, exercise, and enjoy my week without that feeling of walking on eggshells wondering if today was the day I’d end up crying at work again. This week has been the most peaceful and relaxing week I’ve had in years. I’m actually looking forward to going to work again instead of sitting in my car for ten minutes just psyching myself up to go into the building or dreading answering my phone. For the first time since the start of the pandemic, I feel optimistic about my life.

I never realized just how much space my job took in my life until I realized my life had no space because of my job. Now, my new job holds a space in my life, but so does my family, so does fitness (even though I’ve been afraid of failing at the gym), so do my friends, and a social life, which is how it should be. There’s a good lesson here, which is that I can’t allow myself to let my job take over my life and I can’t keep giving my whole self to try and win the approval of people who are never going to give me that. I’ve done this in my personal life and now in my professional life. However, I also learned that even if one person doesn’t see your worth, doesn’t mean others are missing it too. I’m so grateful for the number of colleagues, team members (past and present), managers from other districts, and even HR, who reached out to thank me for my work, my contributions to the company, and wish me well. Those are the people who worked on the floor with me, knew me on a personal level, and saw my commitment. I’m so grateful for them and their friendship.

So, while I’m nervous to start something new, as it’s been awhile since I did that (which is weird, I used to do it all of the time), I’m also really excited for a change. Things haven’t been working the way they were and now I’m excited to take on a completely new job and do something different. I’m excited to grow my career and reduce my waistline. But I’m most excited to find the best version of myself that I’ve been so determined to find again. So, much like every other time I’ve made a change to embrace something new, I’m excitedly optimistic about what experiences I’ll have and lessons I’ll learn.

Saviour Complex

One thing I’ve learned about living through a pandemic is that when the movie industry assumed 80% of the planet wouldn’t survive the zombie apocalypse, they were correct.

Every time I log into social media, there’s someone talking about how it’s a hoax, or why they aren’t gonna stay home.

  • “My family deserves a big family holiday.”
  • “I’m still throwing a huge birthday party, it’s not fair for me to have to cancel it.”
  • “I refuse to cancel my wedding.”
  • “I shouldn’t have to wear a mask.”
  • “I’m not ruining my Christmas.”

That’s cool guys. But that’s how the zombies win in the movies.

COVID has been particularly scary for me because I have two high risk family members (one of which is one of my children), so we have tried our best to comply. I only go to work, groceries, and to the gym (and even that is sparingly because I work with people). I’ve been out in a restaurant three times in eight months. The kids didn’t get to see their dad this summer. I didn’t get to run my 10k. It’s been awful.

But I do this because I don’t trust people. One dumb dumb can infect my whole family. You read about them all of the time, the dumb dumbs that mask symptoms to go to Disney, or go to the hair salon, or whatever. I do not want to run the risk of making my family sick so I reduce my own risk by staying home as much as possible. I cancelled my annual holiday party long before the new restrictions. Even my dating life has been mindful of restrictions. I went on a first date with a guy in a restaurant, but we planned our second as a river walk with hot chocolate. I wanted to make sure I could continue to get to know someone while reducing risks, because I don’t trust people. Normally, my friends tell me that’s silly. Now, I can confidently say…

I WAS RIGHT. DO NOT TRUST PEOPLE. PEOPLE ARE THE WORST.

This week I got a call from a customer who informed me that while waiting for her test results, she realized she needed to pick up something she had ordered and came into the store instead of waiting. Well, she got her results and she’s got COVID. That item she HAD to have just put my whole family at risk. It put my team at risk. It put the safety of my coworkers and their families at risk. It put a neighbouring store at risk because the beauty treatment couldn’t wait. So many people put at risk because one person didn’t want to isolate.

This meant we all had to get tested. I got to be super stressed while I waited, worrying if I gave my kids COVID because I had to work. Worrying about if I infected my mom who’s been in poor health. Worrying about what would become of my family if I got sick. Who would raise the kids, who would pay the bills, how would we manage? This is terrifying shit. Fortunately, my test was negative. But, there’s a part of me that’s still so freaking mad that someone being completely irresponsible put so many people around me at risk.

I cannot stress this enough; every time you say your family Christmas party is too important to miss, or you don’t need a mask, you are saying “I don’t give a shit if I put you and your family at risk, I don’t want to be mildly inconvenienced.” I don’t want to be mildly inconvenienced either. I don’t enjoy mask wearing, or staying home, or not having company. I hate knowing that if things don’t change, it’ll be another year before the kids can see their grandmother in Ontario. None of this is fun. But, it’s responsible. Getting tested wasn’t fun, but it was important to make sure I wasn’t putting anyone at risk. The world isn’t just about me or you. I get that everyone wants to go to their family Christmas or out for dinner, but every time we don’t listen and just do whatever, things get worse for everyone else and that’s not fair to the people around you. It’s not just you that gets sick. It’s everyone around you. Had I gotten sick, my family could have gotten sick, as well as my coworkers at two different locations (because I drove to pick up a phone), my teenager’s coworkers, and my other customers, some who are elderly or possibly high risk.

The reason everyone in the zombie movies die is because no one thinks about how their actions impact everyone else. They just think about how they alone need to escape instead of working together to stop the zombies, and you know what happens next.

So, before you plan your huge bash at a hotel or go shopping while waiting on COVID results, or post another conspiracy blog, or about how much all of these restrictions suck, think about how most could be avoided if we as a group of people listened the first damn time. Also, make sure you tell your asthmatic friends, or your grandparents that you really don’t care what happens to them, as long as you get to shop without a mask and have friends over for the holidays, because that’s what your actions show.

First Train

GUYS!

I FIGURED OUT WHY I SUCK AT DATING!

Well, actually my friend did. But I’m taking credit for it because I can.

I suck at dating because I hate dating!

A friend and I were discussing how we both hate the awkward, getting to know you phase of relationships. Some people recycle exes (a lot of people. It’s super common) I date my friends.

(Also, as someone who did the ex-cycle, I wouldn’t recommend it. It never ends well. If the man goes, let him goes. If he comes back, toss him in the recycle bin.)

I hate that awkward first date and weird first few weeks of awkward dating. So, I always dated my friends. There’s a pre existing relationship, you’ve already gotten to know each other, there’s less weirdness. But, much to my chagrin, I HAVE RUN OUT OF QUALITY MAN FRIENDS!

NOW WHAT?!

I’ve never been good at meeting potential mates, and I’ve run out of male friends. This means I need to make new friends, but making friends as an adult is so weird. I don’t want to recycle my exes because either;

A) they live in Ontario

B) I hate them and never want to see their faces again for as long as I live.

C) both

This is why online dating, or regular dating throws me off. I’m trying to awkwardly build a friendship that might turn into something and they’re looking for a spark. I focus so much on self improvement that I rarely think about logging on to Tinder or Hinge (I log in when I get a notification). I don’t know how to meet someone and build a purely romantic relationship. Don’t you need to be friends? These bitches need to realize I’m weird af and go through the five stages of grief before they commit to dating me! Dude, no one is gonna meet this ball of insanity and be like, yes, this is the one. You gotta ease into that, like a frog in boiling water, or a warm bath, or the fire swamp.

No one is gonna jump in with both feet without at least several months or years of realizing I’m pretty much insane and then deciding to be okay with it! When there are sane, baggage free options, you never pick the weirdo with the kids and the crush on Seth Rollins. You pick the normal one. That’s why I date my friends. They’re desensitized!

Now I have to meet someone who has to deal with my insanity on the fly and then still have want to date me? Or make more male friends?How does one make new friends as an adult? I’m only friends with my coworkers and everyone knows you NEVER date a coworker, I don’t care what Jim and Pam said. You don’t (with the exception of my coworkers that are dating, y’all are cute as Hell and I love it). You can’t make friends on Tinder, so do I continue to suck at dating? Or get more cats? Help a sister out.

I guess I could get out of my preconceived notions that you can’t just meet someone and be smitten with them, and that romantic feelings are something that must bubble under the surface for years. I could stop crushing my own self esteem by pointing out why I’m not loveable and focus on why I could be. I’m a pretty okay amateur chef (check out my food IG), I’m a pretty solid writer, people seem to like me, I’m a pretty decent cell phone boss lady. I’m a damn fine parent. I’m okay looking. I’m getting ready to start a podcast with my best friend. I understand sports now. Like, you could do worse. I guess.

Or I’ll let my friends fix me up until I get pissed off and get 100 cats. Whatever works.