I often joke that I’ve turned my 8yo daughter into a “crossfit douchebag” & it’s my proudest achievement as a parent.
Maybe it’s not the GREATEST, but I like it.
To balance parenting & fitness, I often bring my kids to the gym with me. My teen daughter is preparing to start crossfit soon, as she is getting ready to start her quest to become the youngest WWE Divas Champion in history. And my youngest builds forts out of foam rollers. But my middle child, whom we call the Overlord LOVES crossfit.
When her dad told her that girls with big muscles weren’t pretty, she cited the “prettiest girl ever” was our West London Crossfit coach Lacey, who was “pretty like a princess & stronger than boys!” She’s already told me a Lacey-free gym won’t be as fun, despite my telling her that the new gym has girl coaches. She says when she grows up, she wants to be pretty & stronger than boys (& will tell you why kale is amazing).
This brings me to a hilarious story.
When our cable provider messed up connecting our internet & TV, they gave us a PPV credit, & I asked them what to do with it. The Overlord shouted “I WANT TO WATCH BLONDE LADY FIGHT!” If you’re wondering who “blonde lady” is, allow me to show you!
That’s right; my 8yo idolizes Ronda Rousey.
As a big WWE fan, she absolutely LOATHES the character of Stephanie McMahon. In fact, her Stephanie action figure only exists for her Brie Bella action figure to put in the Yes! Lock. When Ronda appeared at Wrestlemania 31 & tossed Triple H & put the hated Stephanie in the armbar, a girl crush was born. Ronda is strong. Ronda is tougher than boys. Ronda could probably whoop a boy. Ronda won an ESPY & BEAT OUT BOYS. Ronda is pretty much the coolest person on Earth to her. Ronda is sooooooo pretty. And after explaining that unlike WWE, Ronda fights for real & the fight might not be long (“because the other girl isn’t Ronda Mommy,”) & we NEVER imitate WWE or Ronda, we are going to watch “Blonde Lady” fight tomorrow (cue all the sanctimommies questioning my parenting!).
I also love Ronda; she takes no crap. She showcases an image that women have been told wasn’t a real thing; that strong women aren’t sexy. They are masculine & ugly. The thing the dad told my daughter. I stopped trying to be thin long ago; I started losing weight to be healthier for my girls, but now the goal is strong. Maybe I’ll always wear a size 10-12, but my thick thighs don’t bother me anymore. They are the product of hard ass work & strength. Those thighs can deadlift my body weight & squat in triple digits. And they’re only going to get stronger, as my goal is a 200lbs back squat by year’s end. A few years ago, a woman like Ronda Rousey would have been mocked relentlessly for her physique, called a dude, & yes, it still happens, but when she shuts the body shamers down, we cheer with her. When similar comments were made about Serena Williams, JK Rowling shut them down like a boss. It’s cool to be athletic, strong, & strong women can be beautiful!
It’s pretty much an awesome time to be woman, as we can now be proud of our bodies regardless of size, whether the media agrees or not. Tess Holliday made “plus size” women stand up and say “we are beautiful too, not a fetish or a niche!” (While I think sexiness comes from self love, I’ll give Tess credit) Women of colour are celebrated for beauty, not “exotic looks,” thanks in part to Lupita Nyong’o. And Ronda Rousey made the world see that it’s cool to be strong.
I’ll get “uh, MHC, body shaming still happens, it’s REAL. Just because it doesn’t bother you doesn’t mean it isn’t a thing.” Yup, still is a thing. I get accused of it all of the time because of my fitness posts on social media, but here’s the thing; you are in control of your body. If you love yourself, no one can shame you. My belly isn’t taut & my thighs have cellulite, but I am strong. And I’m proud of my strength. The definition will come if I work hard. I’ll always have double D’s & big hips. But I also have daughters & it’s more important that I embrace those double D’s & deadlift thighs than I fit in a size three. And no amount of body shaming will make me stop loving my body so my daughters emulate self love. Tess Holliday is successful because when she looks in the mirror, she sees beauty. When Ronda Rousey looks in the mirror, she sees beauty (& the knowledge that she can kick the crap out of anyone who thinks otherwise). You need to see beauty when you look in the mirror (as I’ve said before) & then no one can hurt you.
There’s something awesome about women being able to look at any body type & see beauty. My teen daughter is a 00. She will always be thin. She’s often mocked for her thin frame, but I remind her that her body is perfect, as she’s an athlete, a track star. She’s proud of her fast, long legs & doesn’t need to stress about her chest or booty because she’s built to be an athlete, the thing she wants to be. And if her idol, AJ Lee, can buck beauty standards & be a champion, so can she.
You can listen to body shamers who tell women they’re too thin, too buxom, too fat, too strong, or you can embrace your body, like women like Ronda Rousey. I love that my 8yo thinks she’s cool, mostly because she is cool. She’s confident & proud, and that matters more than how she looks on the outside.
I am starting to think that I am simply afraid to be happy.
I understand that all humans have a basic right to be happy. I am generally a happy person. I find ways to be happy even when everything is actually stupid. I pride myself on this. But when things play out in a way that makes me truly happy, I start to feel guilty, like do I deserve this? Is it fair that I’m so happy when other people aren’t, etc.?
I lead a very charmed existence. My life used to be very challenging & I’ve worked very hard to build myself in a way that I can be happy regardless of what’s happening in my beautiful life. I have been fortunate to have been blessed with three wonderful children. I have a talent I am passionate about and I’m growing as a writer every day. I’m building connections and career opportunities in my field and I’m super excited about that. My home is slowly becoming a lovely little house where I can raise my family. The girls love their new surroundings and like to chase the bunnies in the yard, they’ve already made friends their own age, and are always outside enjoying their new hometown. Business is even picking up at my day job, so I’m worrying less and less about money and focusing more on becoming a good manager and leader. You know, why I was hired in the first place. My friends back home are always supportive and my friends here are super fun. My girlfriend & I are setting up a playdate with her boys and my girls once the boys get home from camp. My frazzled nerves are often soothed by three words, sent by text message almost every day. They give me peace & security. I’m beautiful and smart and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel anxious and my self esteem doesn’t suck.
But I also find myself worrying that something is going to go terribly wrong. I find myself feeing increasingly sorry for the Dad, who seems to be miserable and that’s my fault. I know you could rationalize that if he wanted to see his kids, he would find a job here, or he would have actually spent time with them when he had them for the month, but I can’t help but feel badly that his life has gone so far downhill and mine seems pretty rad. Kids deserve two hands on parents and I keep hoping he’ll finally get it together and focus on being a good father for his children, but it never happens. And I just keep thinking that I’ve ruined his life somehow. I worry all of the things that are making me happy will suddenly be taken away and it won’t be here anymore. I hadn’t planned for certain developments, and now that they’re in play, it scares me that the other shoe will drop and it’ll go away & the thought scares me so much. I worry that maybe they prefer me as a zoo animal to be observed & watched than a woman to be loved & respected. I can see the girls are adjusting nicely, but I’m still worried that they won’t be happy or that I’m making choices that will impact them in a negative way, despite everything being positive. I also wonder WHY I feel badly that he’s miserable. If the shoe were on the other foot, he would revel in my misery. But I keep worrying that he won’t handle the transition okay, which causes me to distance myself from other aspects of my life so that I can try to help him adjust.
I understand all of these feelings are super normal. I understand that change is scary and letting people in is terrifying and trusting people is hard and people have free will and they choose to love you and they can choose to self destruct and there’s nothing you can do about it. I guess it’s all part of the adjustment; learning to trust your gut instincts (which currently tell me to relax and enjoy my life, it’s the overthinking that gets me) and learning to accept that feelings of self doubt and even fear are normal; especially when every other time you’ve been really happy, it seems to go away. You’ve just gotta remind yourself that it won’t go away. I’ll just continue to focus my efforts on raising my girls, self improvement, and most importantly, the written word. I apply for jobs I’m grossly underqualified for, just so I can get my name out there while I continue to work with my current magazines. I’ll continue to revel with my time with my girls. I’m doing every day crossfit, which means my body hurts like mother effer, but I’m feeling more like myself which means I’m much happier here. It finally feels like this is home. London never really felt like home. It felt like a stepping stone to someplace else. Maybe this was that someplace else? Or maybe this is a stepping stone to someplace else and in two years or so I’ll end up in BC working at some rural newspaper in some hick town, or I’ll actually go to the arctic. Who knows? All I know is I need to do what my Queen Taylor Swift says and “shake it off” and not allow guilt or feelings that the other shoe will drop spoil the happy life I’m building.
But it’s easier said than done & it’s something I need to work on to help me be a more confident person. But as we slowly adjust into a comfortable routine here, and as time passes, it’ll be easier for me to settle into my comfortable place & just be happy.
My house is oddly quiet, except for the prattling of the not so angry teen who is currently enjoying a warm reunion with…her clothing.
My children are home and my heart is full. I can’t remember the last time I have been this happy. I revel in my role as mom, I love being there for my children and raising them and spending my days with them. They’re my favourite people in the entire world and after 28 miserable ass days, they are finally home where they belong, although two of them have been fast asleep since they got home. But they’re resting and recouping after a long journey. Even the cat is happy.
Now we can focus on the adjustment period, where the girls adjust to the new time zone, the new house, etc. I wanted to do this during the summer so they have time to feel comfortable. I sort of flung myself into everything and ended up feeling overwhelmed and a huge emotional wreck. Fortunately, I had friends (home and away) that have been there or me, whether it’s FaceTime chats, or texts, or sobbing phone calls, or even just holding me and reminding me that everything will be fine and they’re right here beside me and they’re not going anywhere. I want my children to have an easier transition. So, I want them to have time to play at the park, learn their way around, enjoy the city, etc. Then we can add school and friends and life. Oh, but first, our audience with Queen Taylor.
Now, our lives in cow province can begin. I’m excited to build a comfortable routine with my daughters. Something where we can be happy and have adventures and enjoy our little existence. It’s going to be nice to have “our” lives again, not to mention it’ll be awesome for them to learn more about our country by living in more than just Southwestern Ontario. They’re excited for the next chapter of our lives and I’m excited too. I used to just be terrified, but the fact that they are here and I no longer have to worry about what’s happening with them makes it easier. I no longer have to wonder about if they’re around something questionable, are the caregivers drinking to excess, are people smoking near them, are they being kept up too late? Now we can go back to our happy life of tea parties, learning and adventures. I start back at the gym full time on Wednesday, so the girls will see a normal schedule again. All of these things are essential to helping them adjust, which is my primary focus right now.
Being reunited with my children makes it easier to focus on why we are here; to continue to build my career. I like my day job and I understand it’s essential, but I came out here for a full time gig. Rome isn’t built in a day, so it’s time to continue to focus on building that portfolio so I can get a permanent position…and learn to drive. You know, perfectly normal things. But I’m very thankful that I have even this sliver of opportunity to build my dream career. I went to school and worked hard and have continued to work hard to get this far. Now, I just need to keep working. Of course, part of that means I need to stop being so hesitant to consider a long term career in entertainment media. I know I want to write human interest stuff and stuff that I feel makes a difference, but I’m really good at music reviews, and editorials about pop culture. Maybe that’s what I’m meant to do? I guess I need to stop bucking the idea and just enjoy writing! Maybe I’ve been a bit of a snob and felt like pop culture wasn’t a long term career plan. Maybe I need to just focus on finding that solid writing job and let the rest fall into place. After all, I guess as long as one person is reading my drivel, it means I’m a success, right?
In the interim, I’m going to enjoy my life. I have always led a pretty charmed existence and each move I make seems to make it better. I have beautiful children, I’m making strides in my career, and I finally know what time it is. I’m blessed with wonderful people who love me. My house is looking pretty nice. Not a bad gig. And I’m going to enjoy watching it play out and see what wonderful things happen next.
My boss REALLY likes conference calls.
Like, a lot.
I suppose I should be grateful that my boss really loves conference calls, because it means she’s invested in my overall job performance. Because she is in Ontario, she understands that leading a team in Cow Province (As Alberta will be known going forward) can lead to feelings of alienation. So, I go on many conference calls and we discuss my performance, how I’m doing, etc. And obviously, the feedback was good, I’m profitable and will continue to be and soon enough when my current manager goes on maternity leave, the store will be mine to run my way, etc. But then, she told me something that everyone tells me and I never listen anyway:
“MHC, I think you just assume that you will just succeed and you’re too hard on yourself because you’re always working to be number one that you don’t factor in things like jet lag, and moving and you’re working yourself to death trying to be the top salesperson here while trying to get your home in order. You must be overwhelmed.”
Can someone work too hard?
I guess it’s because my personality is to be a really nice girl who works really hard. So it doesn’t really bother me. But, as I look at my home, with the trim that still needs to be finished and the table that needs to be bought and the unpacking that needs to be done and the children coming home in a little over 48 hours, maybe I should learn to find some work/life balance.
I wanted to make sure that I settled into my job quickly. I wanted to live up to the expectations that were set for me. So, I didn’t factor in all of the adjustments, nor did I take the sufficient amount of time off to make sure that I could unpack and get my house in order. So, now I’m trying to do it all last minute while working full time. My boss says it’s okay to try and settle and not put so much pressure on myself to be the most successful person that I know. But that feels so out of character.
However, maintaining a successful work/life balance is extremely important and something I struggle with. I have a full life, which is about to get back to normal really quickly. So, I’ll work during the day, head to crossfit at night and then repeat, so my two days off can be for my children and our time together. There’s also getting them off to school in the morning, etc. This past month has had very little work/life balance. Mostly work, rarely life. This won’t do once I’m finally a full time parent again. I need to devote more time to my family, my relationship, but also myself. When one doesn’t take time for themselves and the things that they enjoy, they burn out. Which is probably why I’m exhausted af and feel half dead with the headache from Hell. Because I’ve not allowed myself the things I love that make my life awesome. I’ve had no time for crossfit, no time for yoga, no time to sit amongst my beloved rocks and trees to enjoy how amazing nature is. Just work and paint and no sleep. I’ve been writing a lot, but that’s just a part of my DNA at this point; MH writes and it keeps her sane. But I need to build my routine.
So, maybe I’ll shift my focus a bit for the first time in my entire life. Maybe I will accept that I work too damn hard. Maybe for the rest of the summer, I’ll focus on what actually matters, which isn’t being the most successful person at my workplace, or whatever my kooky goal of the month is. Maybe I’ll focus on building my real people life and creating my routine here and getting reacquainted with how my family and I live day to day. So, having breakfast with the kids, going to work and then the gym, sending random texts, etc. Will it really ruin my children’s lives if I’m still painting some of the trim a couple of days after they get home? Not really. In fact, the not always angry tween is pretty happy about it, because she gets to help paint her Amazing Technicolour Bedroom! I’ll dedicate time to recharge my spirit with nature, and I’ll focus on getting my family adjusted, the thing I didn’t allow myself to do. And then I’ll once again dominate the world of telecommunications…okay, I’ll probably still dominate the world of telecommunications, but once I get home at night, the work phone is shut off and I allow myself to breathe. And by working harder at the things I love most (writing, crossfit, parenting), I’ll be more rejuvenated, which will make me actually like my job more, as its hit or miss right now.
Perhaps by finally taking control of my work/life balance, I’ll perform better at my job, because I’m not pushing myself to succeed and stressing when I don’t. As the Overlord says “You don’t cure cancer; you just sell phones.” Maybe I need to readopt that attitude so I don’t let job stress overtake my life, so I can enjoy it.
(I apologize in advance for this look into my personal life. It makes me kind of want to throw up too & I assure you it won’t happen often)
Normally, late night blogging means I’m trying to heal some kind of stress in my heart.
This time, it’s the polar opposite. I am so incredibly happy. My girls will be home in four days. I am happy with my day job, but there is a lot of opportunity if I change my mind. I am going back to crossfit full time in the coming days. My house is slowly starting to look lovely. My editor thinks I’m growing as a writer and I am doing work I’m so proud of. And I am in love.
It always hits me at the strangest times; this realization that I am in love. I always know, but there’s always this kind of “a ha” moment that makes you stand up and go “Holy shit, I am in love with this person and it’s real and it’s good and this person is everything I’ve ever wanted” at some random time to remind me. I’ve often wondered if anyone else has that moment, more out of personal curiosity, to see if I’m the only person who is just randomly overcome with their own emotions because of some small thing that their person is doing that makes them go “Holy crap, I’ve never been more in love than right this second.” I’ve also occasionally wondered, from a completely vain perspective, if anyone has had that “a ha” moment with me & what it was.
For me, it’s every time I hear him sing.
We drive, he sings along with the radio and he doesn’t care about the world and I stare, completely in awe of this man. Sure, he’s smart and focused and compassionate. He has career goals and loves his daughter so much; he’s the most devoted father I’ve ever seen. He cares about the world and wants to make it better. He’s passionate about his job and wants to improve the way things are done. He challenges my opinions & makes me think about things from another perspective. He reads every word I write & cares about what I say. He’s handsome & charming & looks at me like I am the most beautiful person in the world and he makes me feel like I’m the most important person in his life. But he is also capable of being distant & mean. He isn’t perfect, but he’s still the person that makes me feel completely at ease with myself, and thinks I’m more talented than I really am. With him, there’s never been butterflies or puppy love; it’s always been this calm feeling of completeness. This almost gentle understanding that this is the person that I’m meant to be with, no matter how hard I try to avoid it, avoid him, hide away from him so I don’t have to admit my feelings, keep him, like everyone else, at arm’s length because I’m so afraid to let anyone in. I spent months trying to move on with my life away from him, move towards a future without him, but the universe sometimes has a plan of it’s own and things just work out in a completely different way. But I guess there are random butterflies, whenever he’s lost in his own world singing along with the radio. Then I get them, because in that “a ha!” moment, he’s perfect (even though I know he isn’t really perfect).
(I’m guessing no one else gets this way, mostly because I’m weird & suck at loving people)
But for the first time in my entire life; I am completely unafraid of my future. This is literally the strangest thing that has ever happened to me. Maybe it’s the elevation making my brain less nutty. Maybe it’s just what is. But I am completely unafraid of my future. I have a decent job and a couple of other prospects out there. I will continue to work towards the goal and I’m becoming a better writer every time I submit an article. I’m getting physically stronger and setting a better example for my daughters by going to crossfit and showing them a healthy lifestyle. My home feels like my home and once I unpack it’ll feel even more “mine.” And I am in love with a wonderful person and I no longer fear the moment he will leave me. I have no reason to. He is mine. And I am his. And it won’t be perfect; in fact, it’s weird and fucked up, but it is ours.
But the future is mine and for once it actually looks like everything is just going to work out. I’m going to continue to kick media’s ass and finally land the full time media job I’ve wanted since I was eight. I’ll sell phones or work in retail while I improve as a writer and provide for my family. And I’ll lift heavy things and get stronger and dare I say I’ll finally be sexy. And I’ll finally be the person worthy enough for my daughters deserve to look up to. I’ll be someone they can be proud of. And maybe I’ll finally let go and trust someone enough to let them love me. Because I love that he loves me. It’s all I ever wanted from him. What I want from myself is a far bigger list. I want to be successful and smart and sexy and brave and pretty much every awesome adjective you can think of until I am everything I always wanted to be.
I used to be afraid to fail. I was afraid to allow myself to truly love anyone or let anyone near me. I was afraid that my hard work wouldn’t be enough and I’d never reach the goal. Maybe I needed to break out of my comfort zone and just try. Because while I’m not quite where I want to be professionally or physically (never thin, strong…and with a killer ass), I’m where I want to be personally, emotionally. I’m finally in a place where I don’t fear my shadow, or the shoe. I focus solely on living my raddest life; I literally don’t allow myself to picture another option. Why? Because there isn’t one. For once, I know what I have to do to get there and I won’t be afraid of what could go wrong. I can’t fear driving because I might get in a car accident; I need to drive to get a newspaper gig. And I need a good job to buy a car so I can do what I need to do. I can’t let fear stop this anymore. I can’t be afraid of applying because what if I fail. I’m freaking amazing. I can’t be nervous to go to the gym because I may get lost. I’ll find myself! No big!
So, for the first time in my life, I’m going to be the Brave Little Toaster and focus on how awesome my life is right now and will continue to be awesome as long as I do the damn work. Work to get to where I need to be professionally. Work to be a better mother. Work to be the most bad ass crossfit athlete I can be. Work to make my relationship work, because they need effort and work during those periods when they aren’t perfect. And be myself and for once, enjoy that.
I’ll do this by appreciating what I have. I have beautiful scenery, an almost lovely home. I have the best family ever. I’ll use this to help me express myself as a writer, because part of being a good writer is to paint a picture in the reader’s mind of the subject; whether it’s a crime scene, a flood, or a celebrity. I’m not afraid I’ll end up “just a pop culture writer” anymore. I’m really good at it and maybe that’s what I’m meant to do. I’m finally ready to stop stressing about what I’m writing and accept that maybe I’ll never change the world, or make a single person think, but I’m doing what I love and maybe that’s what actually matters. And I’ll count myself lucky that I have children that drive me to be the best possible mother for them and woman for them to emulate and I’ll use that to make me better, while counting myself lucky that I’ve found love (again) with someone who understands me well, drives me to be better & can also make me speechless simply by singing along with the radio.
Yup, I have a wonderful life and for the first time in my life, I’m not going to be afraid to live it. I’m going to trust that the universe is going to just keep making things work out for me while I work to become the best MHC I can be. And I will truly, disgustingly happy.
That’s not a bad gig.
(This originally started as a private thought, but the more I thought on it, the more it manifested into something I thought I’d share)
When I packed up my life & moved to London, it never truly felt like home.
That’s not true; my gym felt like home. My friends made living there rad, but it wasn’t where I belonged. The adjustment period from that move took months because my coworkers were different (but awesome), my routine changed, as I went from working almost dedicated nights to a swing shift, the girls hated it, etc.
My plan to move here was easy once I got the ball rolling. I found my house easily, I acquired my job easily. I was offered two writing jobs. I guess I just assumed the transition would be easy. I would do it all to make my house mine & everything would be easy.
After a solid day of bawling & not sleeping, followed by a solid day of painting, I realized that most of my distress stems from scenarios I’ve created in my mind & not actual problems. This likely stems from the lack of structure in my life. My life was my girls, my writing, crossfit. Everything about my life from two weeks ago has changed for the better (except for the part where the girls won’t be home for another week). But I need to reimplement the things about my life that make it mine (my daughters & crossfit), on top of the things I’ve already done. I think I’ve been so determined to make my house feel like home & make this perfect to alleviate my sadness over the absence of my family that I forgot that I need to continue living my day to day life.
Crossfit helps me feel stronger (because I am haha). It helps me with the social aspect of my life that I like, as we are all working towards the same goals, which is to be our fittest selves. Exercise relieves my anxiety, which helps me retain my title of HBIC. When I went to my intro class, I felt like myself because I was swinging a kettlebell, despite feeling the initial intimidation I felt when I started. But, then I got lost and found myself intimidated by the trek I would need to take to get there. I’ll need to get the eff over that because I need to make my life work in this place. I’ve been doing it the other way. Nope. I’m the CEO of my life. Cow province needs to work for ME.
So, now that the house is getting to feel like mine, I can focus on my life & reestabliishing what makes it work & what makes me the happiest girl in the world.
It’s all about changing one’s perspective. I’ve been so focused on trying to fit into my life that I forgot that my life should bend to me! I’ve adjusted to the time zone, I’ve found out how to navigate, so now I’m going to focus on doing things that make my life better. I’ve been so afraid that I’m going to screw up my life that I wasn’t actually living my life! That’s just silly.
The biggest thing I need to do is let go & let people in. I’ve spent so long trying to do things on my own & keep people at arm’s length to prove some kind of point. I’m not even sure what that point is anymore. But I don’t have to do it on my own anymore. I have my significant other (whom I generally don’t care to discuss, but I guess it’s part of the lesson of the day), who is loving, supportive & wants to make my life & transition here as awesome as possible. I love that I have him here with me. But part of being in a successful relationship means I need to be myself & I like my independence & that’s part of why he loves me. But I can be independent & still have an ally who is with me in all things, right? I just need to learn to embrace that while most things I can do for myself, by myself, it’s not MHC vs. the world anymore. I have a teammate in this crazy thing called life & I have a very good one. It’ll take time, but I’ll get there. But part of building a future means moving away from the things that hold us back. I can’t shut out the person who wants to love me because I’m afraid of getting hurt. But if I kept my guard up because I’m afraid of getting hurt, I would never go to the gym. Or work. Or leave my house. It’s a risk & they’re worth that risk. He’s good to me & for me & he loves me & wants to be the person that makes me happy & I need to let him because he’s the most incredible man I’ve ever known & I am a lucky girl. I didn’t intend on being with anyone, but I’m glad he found me…
…and that’s enough about that, as I’m very protective of my personal life.
I guess I needed to have a giant “I’m so lonely” meltdown to help get the negativity out of my mind & focus on making things the way I want. I just needed to spend some time with my constructive thoughts & find ways to make things work; the MHC way. I refuse to allow myself to be afraid that I’ve screwed up. I’m simply going to focus on how I’m going to make my girls & my love proud of me by accomplishing everything I’ve set out to do; conquer the written word, lift heavy things & generally be amazing.
Sometimes my life feels so very lonely.
Probably because it actually kind of is.
I know it’s a loneliness of my own design, but it is what it is. I probably sound so whiny, but I’ve never felt so disconnected from my own life. I haven’t hugged my daughters in almost a month & I’m so far from everyone I know except two people & most of my conversations with friends from home are “helpful” reminders that I shouldn’t have done this because I make dumb choices. The gym was great but it wasn’t MY gym & they weren’t MY coaches. I’ve overwhelmed myself with the amount of work that needs to be done so I can unpack, I don’t really know my way around & I’m just…
…I want to go home. But I don’t know where that is.
I was adjusting fine until my youngest daughter was rushed to the hospital & I stood powerless in my store & couldn’t do anything. Sure, my best friend rushed there, but I should have been there. I am Mommy. Mommy is there when bad things happen. And Mommy was very far away. Mommy will remain far away for another week & a Mommy literally cannot stand it anymore. Mommy should not be rewarding brave little girls with a FaceTime trip to the Disney Store. Mommy should have been there. And I wasn’t. And I feel awful.
I’ve been fortunate that I’m not completely alone; I have a partner here who loves me & has done his damnedest to make this whole thing tolerable, but he’s my equal, not my protector. He works & has a life. I can’t just call him & have my epic meltdown that I don’t like my job & I literally don’t want to be this far from my girls anymore & I am really, really intimidated & out of my element & I have never ever looked at a situation that I couldn’t just make awesome until now (although I have no doubt he would listen & be there with me). That reason is because I sound like a huge fucking baby because I know I am actually fine. I am supposed to be a boss ass bitch. Boss ass bitches do not cry because they are lonely af & struggling with the major life change I know was the right thing because everything is actually wonderful & I’m just overtired & overstressed & overwhelmed & this will pass & I am fine.
But right now I am just so incredibly lonely & I find myself calling my friends just so I don’t feel alone in my house but it’s always much later than I thought it was & suddenly I feel so very alone. It’s weird; for years all I wanted was to be left alone so I could be independent & raise my girls & no one could hurt me ever again. But now, I’m just so lonely for my friends, my girls & a home that feels like home & I suck at vulnerability. It kind of goes against my whole “I’m the most bad ass bitch on Earth,” thing.
Change is supposed to be scary. Good change is supposed to be terrifying. Every aspect of my current life but two things are terrifying. I guess I want some semblance of MY life. And I know once I’m attending crossfit regularly & the girls are here I’ll be okay. But I feel like I’ve backed myself into a weird corner. I’ve spent so long trying to convince the world that I need no one & nothing & I’m brave & strong & I can handle everything because I’m so freaking awesome that now that I’m not brave, I dunno what to do. I don’t know how to be afraid, or lonely, or any of these things. And I don’t know how to adequately express these things, or let anyone into my mind & I want so badly to be the super human I’ve convinced myself I am that I bottle up all of these things until you end up having some sobbing fit because you are just really sick of your own company & your own thoughts & you just want someone near you for awhile, even if it’s just on the other end of a phone.
I’m sure everyone who’s ever made a major relocation has had these feelings. They’re not exclusive to me. I’m just a person who overlooks them so I can live up to an ideal that isn’t actually real; I’m not invincible. I’m sometimes not even very brave. And for some reason I won’t allow myself to understand its okay to feel less than bad ass. So, I find myself turning to my writing more than usual, as it’s always been the thing that helps me sort out my jumbled thoughts in a way that makes me feel better.
In the interim, I’ll just bawl my eyes out & feel very lonely & immerse myself in painting tomorrow, for the sense of accomplishment that I am making my house pretty will make tomorrow a brighter day, because the best part of being the eternal optimist is you’ll find something to make the day better, even if that something is very small.
Let me tell you a story called “MH’s no good, terrible, horrible, very bad days.”
One thing I have never lacked is ambition; mostly because I think I can do everything. So, I decided to paint my entire house, by myself, in 24 hours!
(I am well aware that this was actually stupid, no need to remind me)
I got through two rooms (walls only) & one started before I gave up & cried. And passed out. It was pretty fantastic.
The next day @ work, I was programming my shiny new work phone & so proud that unlike my last work line, it actually worked! I put my shiny phone in my pocket & headed home, as my movers refused to drop off my stuff unless I was there. I went to answer an email by pulling my phone out of my pocket & found THIS;
After putting an insensitive friend on blast & receiving a helpful reminder from a former coworker about why Z3 screens are actually made of delicate rice paper (and apparently this is common), I was pretty much DONE with the last 48 hours.
Normally, I use crossfit as my stress reliever, but I don’t have a class until later today. Yoga wasn’t an option either; as movers were all over my house. So, I went shopping. If I like you, I probably bought you or your kid something (but I didn’t buy my brother the Anger plusher because I’m a jerk sister). I also bought my first piece of “bandwagon sports clothing” so I’ll fit in amongst Western Canadians. I got some David’s Tea. By the end, I was poor, but I felt better.
In my professional life, I have mastered time management & quiet control. In my personal life, I have mastered letting things play out as they should & finding my comfort level without overthinking. As a parent, I have mastered equal time for my children. But as a woman, I still try to accomplish more than one human being is capable of.
Part of it stems from the girls being gone for so long. I want their home to be perfect when they get home. Then there is the fact that I want to do everything ON MY OWN. I hate relying on others, I hate asking for help. I want to be completely independent & take care of myself & my family on my own. I want to be super mom & super woman & super athlete so I can feel like a strong & independent woman. I want my girls to have a good role model so perhaps my ambition, while well meaning, is a bit…nuts.
I’ll get my house painted. I’ll just have to pace it out a little bit each night until it’s done. I’ll get unpacked. I’ll get my work phone fixed. It’ll all work out. And crossfit is tonight so getting back into my fitness life will help me feel “normal” again. And I’ll keep working to leave my over ambitious nature in my professional life, where it will serve me to accomplish all of my goals in my own bad ass way (& for crossfit, because gains).
Whether it’s positive self work or spending money, I’ll always try to find the positive so I can keep tackling life each day & making it my bitch, because that’s the only way to live!
In the interim, I’m going to pace myself to get what I want to get done completed. I’ve got some great opportunities lined up & I don’t want to burn myself out sweating small stuff…& I bought a bunch of stuff so I get to give people gifties so they’ll be happy & I’ll be happy that I got to make them happy, because no matter how much I grow, the basic core of who I am, the person who loves to give to others, will never change.