September 3

Two years ago today I got married.

Two years ago today, at this exact time, I was running around like a headless chicken, with a tear-stained face trying to be excited while fear gripped at me. Was I about to make a big mistake?

Then, with F.

You know that thing where they tell you to listen to your gut? Yeah. I didn't.

We had a beautiful ceremony and an equally beautiful reception which I spent separated from my new husband, as he was busy "consoling" his mother. I danced to S Club 7 with my best friend, drank a lot of wine and I mingled with family and friends until it was time to pack it all in. I remember vividly the moment we got back to our rental house for the weekend - some of our bridal party opted to stay up and keep the party going. I went to bed, exhausted.

When we separated six months later, I was devastated but things immediately felt right.

I don't even remember what I did last year. But today I'll go to school and I'll go to work. I'll drink about five cups of coffee. I'll call my parents. I'll talk to friends. I'm hoping to get to Home Depot to pick up a couple of little things. Just for the Hell of it, though, I'm going to reflect on the milestones of the last two years.

Such as:

J has seen our son 0 times in 2013. In 2012, the grand total was 6.

I haven't heard from J in more than six months. He hasn't contacted our son since he texted me ON F'S BIRTHDAY to say he was drinking and couldn't come over. He didn't even send a card.

Classy, right?

I'm also going to pick up a bottle of wine tonight and I'm going to toast myself for not going completely crazy. I'm going to raise a glass to F, because he's the driving force behind every single thing I do. I'm going to toast my amazing parents and friends who have supported me, held my hand, offered a shoulder to cry on and given me a healthy dose of reality when needed.

Now (in matching shirts, no less!)

And then, I'm going to climb into my big, beautiful queen size bed with my stuffed sheep and the terrorist kitten and I'm going to sleep.

Alone.

And totally happy.

I Blog at OMC!

It hasn't been a year since I first sat before my keyboard and let it all out. 

It's been quite a journey. I've found myself - but more than that, I've created a new me. It's been a reinvention. I'm a better person. I'm happier. Stronger. More, well, me.

I had a shocking revelation a couple of months ago when I realized that I've never felt more at home in my own skin. If you've ever felt like you didn't belong in your own body, you know as well as I that it's a terrible feeling. Writing used to be something I sometimes did. Now it's who I am. The past 10 months have been a pursuit of passion, a search for happiness and I wouldn't change a minute of it.

I'm excited to share my newest adventure with you as I've just logged into my new blog position with Ottawa Mommy Club! 

You'll soon be able to follow my blog at OMC (I haven't posted anything just yet), and you can expect 2-6 posts a month on everything from recipes to reviews, tips on writing, a couple of work outs and a pile of momisms. 

Stay tuned for a link to my new blog, Li'l Ms. Write! 

Gotcha!

You know when you're walking out of a store on a windy day, and your receipt that you totally need blows away?

Yeah. I hate that.

So, knowing full-well that you look like a total jackass, you run across the parking lot all flailing limbs and tripping over shopping bags (what were you thinking wearing heels, anyway?), hair blowing in your face trying to get one of your feet to land on top of the receipt. There's anxiety lightly gripping (or totally asphyxiating) in your chest, until you manage to grab it.

Enter sigh of relief and cue victory dance. Am I right? You know I am.

I had that feeling today, after months and years of feeling that moment of possible loss. I saw my name, all glossy and pretty, in the byline of a magazine. A real one. A real publication.

I'm a real writer.

Anyone who knows me knows writing is kind of my thing. My passion. My outlet. My first love. My dream.

It got away once though, blowing across the parking lot  of life much like the Future Shop receipt from when I bought my iPad... except that I didn't let my dream blow away so easily. I chased it, in everything from fat pants to skinny jeans, running shoes to leopard print wedge booties until I caught it.

Today, I got to hold that dream in my hands and it felt bigger than it ever looked, and better than I could have imagined.

I'm a real writer.

Whatever your dream is, don't stop chasing it. You're a step or two away from getting one of those fabulously-shoed feet or perfectly manicured hands catching it.

Comeback Mom

In the midst of my January blahs, I've also had good reason to celebrate.

First, and certainly most important, is the fact that I am honestly and truly happy. I don't know if I've ever been able to say this with certainty before - and inspite of the general blahness of the past few weeks, I am at peace with myself more than ever. Sure, there are things I'd like to change but all in all, I'm in a good place.

I know who I am. I know what I want. I'm on the road to making my dreams become a reality and I've made some of them come true already. I believe fiercly in the importance of setting goals and holding onto our dreams. I let some of my dreams go in the past, and I've just managed to catch up to them again. Want in on the dream? Check it all out here.

I can still hear the snide remarks, feel the hurt from the blows that told me no one would want to read what I write so I stopped writing. Don't we all do that from time to time? We let the negativity of others beat us down. Have you?

Well, I think it's time for you to have your Comeback.

Worry

I am a worrier.

It's one of those little quirks that I can't seem to shake. I've tried, trust me. I worry about everything, from the possibility that I may one day have cancer to having my apartment broken into, F getting sick, something bad happening to my parents and little things like losing my car keys. It seems silly, but I can't help it. I just worry.

My worry has become such a monster that I've begun to question whether or not good things can just happen. When I was bombarded with good news earlier this month, I joked that the world really must be ending on December 21. Luckily for all of us it didn't, but there was just no way that I could have all this great stuff coming my way. Anyone who knows me well can tell you that if I didn't have bad luck, I'd have none. I'm that person, it would seem.

My theory that everything happens for a reason is often the only thing that keeps me going. I don't always understand the whys or even the hows, but I believe that there is a purpose and that each challenge I'm faced with will only make me stronger eventually. From time to time, my faith in that falters and I have a meltdown.

"You're such a strong, happy person," a good friend told me recently. The irony that I was in the middle of one of the abovementioned meltdowns was not lost on me. Wiping the tears from my face and apologizing for my breakdown, I listened to her tell me what I already know. I'm doing the right thing and I've come a long way. It's time to let go of the fear that I'm making a mistake, the doubts that are eating away at me have no place in my life any more.

In the middle of all the crap that was thrown my way in the past eight weeks - or the past year if we want to be serious here - I've done my best to stay positive. Even though my heart was broken, I did all I could to smile and love. Feeling sorry for myself won't help, and the truth is that there are many people who are dealing with a lot worse than I ever had to.

Put into the world what you want to get from it. Project positivity and happiness when you don't feel like it because that's when it counts the most. You might be surprised to find that it comes back to you in due course.