I Am A Bitch - By Amy Moss-Archambault

May 4

Written By

Time To Own & Love All Sides Of Ourselves

Stubborn. Bossy. Ambitious. Obstinate. Driven. Bitch. All labels used to describe me and I use to feel a sense of shame every time someone described me this way … now I own them and say hell yes! Labels are one of the destructive weapons we as humans created. The nursery rhyme about sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me … WRONG. Terribly wrong. Names hurt. Names imprint on our soul. Names cause us to carry other peoples trauma on ourselves. We use labels or names to shun entire groups these days. Are you a stay at home mom? A working mom? Breast feeding mom? Bottle feeding mom? Natural mom? C-section? I could sit here for days and write the ways we compartmentalize ourselves and others.

Bossy … that’s the one that stuck and hurt. It’s taken 43 years to love that word. Bossy sums all of the words I listed and we love to describe girls this way. I remember struggling so hard against this word as a kid. I’d see boys be assertive, push their way to the front of the line and be rewarded for it. They’d speak out in class and be rewarded for it. Change gender and suddenly you are bossy when you want to lead or push your idea forward. You’re a bitch if you speak your mind. Stubborn if you fight for your opinion to be heard. And yes, I challenged it every step of the way. I just didn’t understand at a fundamental level why my gender suddenly turns traits that are positive for boys into something negative for me - just because I’m a girl.

I chose male dominated fields for my career, always challenging, always pushing and not really knowing why other than I always felt I needed to prove myself. And then I had my first baby and how I defined myself changed. I didn’t have a word for who I was anymore. I was lost, disoriented, overwhelmed and I felt like I was drowning. I went from being a successful Financial Planner managing a team of people twice my age to a stay at home mom with a wonky heart and absolutely no clue what to do but knowing I couldn’t go back to the corporate world. If I wasn’t a successful business woman, climbing the corporate ladder, putting all the boys to shame … then who was I?

Over achiever is an understatement. I lived my life with constant measures, goals, the metaphoric carrot always dangled in front of my face. Now I was a mom and the label felt empty and taxing all at the same time. I chose not to go back to finance I knew it wasn’t the right fit if I was going to be the mom I wanted to be. I knew this beautiful little girl was my future but I also knew I was more than a mom but I didn’t know how to reconcile the two ideas I had of myself. Definitely didn’t know how to reconcile all the names and labels people used to describe me. Suddenly my measure of value seemed to be how well I cared for this little human. How happy I made this little human. My measure of success was defined by another persons contentment not by own satisfaction or contentment. I wasn’t prepared for this. I don’t think any of us are. Right up until the baby arrives we are the focus of our lives and then suddenly we are the vessel and the caregiver … and we lose ourselves.

Our second baby arrived soon after with less than 21 months separating my daughter and son. I started to encounter health problems from hypothyroidism, brutal chronic migraines and more. My world was starting to feel really dark. I remember being at the local YMCA with my girlfriend on the treadmill while the kids were in babysitting to get a “break” and telling her I felt like I was drowning, surrounded by dark black water. I didn’t recognize myself at all. She didn’t tell me it was going to be ok. She didn’t change the conversation. She just listened. Without judgement. Without a solution. She just listened. I shared my fears that if I don’t have something I’m going to be one of those women who consumes their kids because their identity is their kids. I shared my shame that I resented my husband. I resented the kids. I emptied it all and started to rediscover my voice. My friend gave me a hug and reminded me how loved I am no matter how I feel.

I look back on that day and realize that was my first day of becoming who I am today. I started exercising regularly and loving it. Exercise, strength training, running all gave me goals again. Goals defined outside of the well being of my kids. Exercise gave me daily measures, things to work towards. A place I could also struggle and struggle was normal. Exercise let me over achieve and prove my worth to myself. Then I discovered racing and triathlon. This is an A type, over achievers dream come true. You never can execute a perfect race because there are 3 disciplines to learn. You can never be perfect and yet all you do is strive for perfection. You become obsessive with stats and data. Hello my new best friend!!!

I signed up for a try-a-tri, an entry level triathlon only to find out I was pregnant with my third child. As soon as I was connecting to myself, I saw it slipping away but my husband wouldn’t let me quit because of a pregnancy and I raced a try-a-tri 5 months pregnant. I finished dead last but I finished with Peter and the kids waiting for me in the finishing shoot. I exercised throughout my entire pregnancy and felt my best self. After my youngest daughter was born I went back and raced the same try-a-tri again and placed 4th. From that moment on a new obsession was born.

3 years later I stepped up to the start line of the ITU World Championship wearing the maple leaf. To get there I trained with my kids whether they were in jogging strollers, on their bikes, watching movies while I rode my bike on stationary trainer, counting my laps at the pool while they played in the adjacent leisure pool. We became Team Archie. Every time I struggled or felt defeated during training or a key race they were there. My training became this platform to teach humbling lessons, to talk about failure isn’t failure until you quit. Conversations about mindset and effort. Conversations about doing your best and it still not being good enough.

I stepped on that start line a new woman and new mom. I needed to walk and stumble this path to get to that moment and realize my identity is my creation. No one has the power to define me. My identity isn’t mom. My identity isn’t wife. Or student. Or business woman. My identity is mine.

Training and exercise are my platforms I use to advocate self love, self development, self discovery. For me there is something beautifully therapeutic about physically pushing yourself while figuring your shit out. You can be messy. You can be emotional. You can be honest. I’ve turned that truth into a business … Get TriFIT. I teach women they are powerful. They are strong. They are resilient. Most importantly I teach them they are perfectly imperfect all through the medium of exercise. My business allows me to continue to grow and test my comfort zone, all while sharing my journey with my kids. My business lets me work on my terms to be the mom I strive to be. I found my balance by being an entrepreneur, a coach, a motivator, an athlete, a wife and a mom. I chose my labels and I own the ones forced on me.

I am stubborn. I am bossy. I am ambitious. I am obstinate. I am driven. I am a bitch. And I plan on raising bitches too. I plan on inspiring every woman to own their power. We’ve worn these labels with shame for too long. It’s time to take back the power.