Have I completely and utterly fucked up? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve asked myself this question. It’s usually late at night, the witching hour, as I lie in bed staring at shadows on my ceiling.

I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I don’t know why – I traditionally think of myself as a pretty good sleeper – but now that I think of it, maybe I haven’t slept well in years. Maybe part of this is being a single parent to a newborn/baby/toddler, the only one to get up every night when needed (which, until he was about one, was every hour on the hour). Maybe part of this might be perimenopause, something I’ve been researching a bit more as I turned 40 (oh right. I turned 40. I’m sure I’ll write about that one day).

But a big part? A really, really big part of the reason I can’t sleep? It’s because I feel like I’ve thrown all of this away. I feel like I’ve fucked up one of the things I’ve loved the most in my life, one of the only constants in my life over the past two decades.

Yep, I’m talking about this blog.

So there I was, 19 years old, living in Halifax by myself. I remember putting together shelves while listening to Stevie Wonder on the record player, hanging twinkly lights on my balcony, and feeling like a grown-up buying milk at the local Sobey’s.

Halifax became my home. It was the first time I felt independent, the first time I lived on my own, and the first time I felt as though I could really shape who I wanted to become. I made friends. I studied. I worked. I did indeed wear chunky turtlenecks as I walked to my local coffeeshop to read. I fell in love with my community and the life I created. And perhaps most importantly, I started writing.

The last time I saw you, I knew it would be the last time. Isn’t that a strange feeling? To say goodbye to someone and know you’ll never see them again.

“I’ll see you in a couple of months,” you said to me, your mouth pressed against my ear. We were the same height. I felt the stubble on your chin brush against my cheek as you pulled away, the scent of you lingering for just a moment. Above us was a bright blue sky, an early morning sun. Shopkeepers were just starting to unpack the city, pulling chairs out on café sidewalks, opening shutters on the fruit stalls. A man wearing a loose suit jacket swept outside his bookstore, a steady rhythm of straw hitting concrete.

“I’ll see you in a couple of months,” I echoed, grabbing my backpack off of the cobblestones. We kissed one more time, a quick one, and you tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“Ciao,” you smiled at me.

“Ciao,” I smiled back, turning toward the train station, all the air leaving my lungs.

Before my son was born, I researched “mommy and me” groups in Winnipeg and found many outdated links; the pandemic sadly forced quite a few groups to shut down, and many haven’t seemed to recover yet. Giving up on my online search, I quickly discovered that word of mouth is the best way to find out about groups for parents in Winnipeg. And because so many other websites that list Winnipeg mom groups are still outdated, I wanted to collate as many as possible so that other new moms could find these groups much easier.

It doesn’t matter if you were together for 30 years, five years, or even a few months, let’s face it: breakups are terrible. In fact, a tough breakup is often cited as one of the most stressful things you’ll ever go through in life. And as someone who has suffered her fair share of difficult breakups – my last serious relationship ended when my then-partner dumped me while I was pregnant with his child – I can tell you that there are few things in the world that are as energy-draining, as mind-numbing, or as hard to get through. What I’d love to do right now is give you a big hug and tell you it’s going to be OK. Barring that, here are a few things you can do to help yourself through a difficult breakup.

We’ve all been there, right? We can’t stop thinking about them. Listen to just about any love song and you’ll hear it repeated again and again, a theme that repeats itself over and over on the radio. It might be someone we’re casually dating. It might be an ex. It might be a person we only had one date with. Whatever the scenario, we just can’t stop thinking about them. In fact, we might even feel a little bit obsessed; it might start to affect how we sleep, eat, interact with others, and live our lives. And I don’t know about you, but for me, that is not a healthy way to be, feel, or act. So, what’s actually happening in our brains when we feel this way about someone? And how can we stop an unhealthy thought process so that we can move on with our lives and focus on ourselves instead?