Goodbye Nikilee30

In December 2010, I was 29 years old turning 30 and my whole world fell apart, everything I had known and trusted was gone.  I needed a place to turn, a friend told me I should try blogging since Social Media was such an important part of my world already.

Throughout the next three years I have had some amazing highs and some anxiety-ridden, dark, depressing lows, but I survived – partially because I had this blog, I had this outlet where I could come and write and feel free to express myself in ways that I couldn’t verbally to friends or family. I could make sense of senseless situations.  My world now, in August 2013, is completely different then I had expected three years ago, but I think it’s time for a change, I know it’s time for a change.  This will be my last blog post on nikilee30. 

The chapter of my life I began three years ago is over; it’s come to an end.  I am the strongest I have felt in a long time.  My endless string of dating disasters is over.  I am single and confidant and have no desire to dip into the online dating pool anymore.  With medication, relaxation and a great group of friends my anxiety levels are normal, I am no longer spiking, panicking in the middle of the night, I am not waking up at 2:00 am unable to fall back asleep.  Things are good, things are peaceful … 

*****Waiting for disaster to strike now that I have spoken those words… 

No? Okay, we’ll move on. 

I have decided to take a step that will bring about new challenges, the biggest choice a woman (or a man) can make.  I have decided to become a single parent. 

I’ll let that sink in…yes, me, Nikilee30 is going to become a single parent – by choice 

Now most of my closest friends and all my family already know this, so it’s not a surprise, but I have kept it “socially” quiet because I wanted to have my first appointment with the fertility clinic before I ended my nikilee30 blog forever.  My first appointment was the middle of July.

Now obviously a lot has changed since even then.  My father, Edward Kenneth Milway passed away suddenly on July 21st, two days after my first appointment.  But I am blessed, because I was able to tell him all about it and watch his eyes light up as his dreams of becoming a “poppy” again were soon to be realized.  

But not all dreams come true.  My dream of my father holding MY baby in his arms and tearing up as his little girl becomes a mother for the first time are over.  But that doesn’t mean my dreams of becoming a mother are over.  Far from it.  I am more determined than ever to have a child, make my dad’s dream come true.  I have had to postpone it – clearly I am in no emotional stand point this month to handle any more responsibilities.  But in the next month or two – I will be.  As I said earlier, I am stronger and more confident than I ever give myself credit for.  

So, I want to take this opportunity to thank a few people (here is my Oscar speech).  

It was an honor just to write a blog, let alone have anyone read it. I have always loved to write freely and creatively and had I been more thoughtful at the time I would have majored in English and become a starving writer like many people I know.   The fact that I am ending this blog with over 60 followers (95% of whom are not friends or family), is astounding to me.  The very idea that someone wants to read words that come out of my head and placed onto the computer humbles me and I truly hope you all follow me on my new blog as I explore the next chapter in my life.  That blog address is up and ready for readers and followers: – yes I am staying with the WordPress family because they have amazing writers and I enjoy being inspired by them to be better myself. 

I want to thank my friends who read my blog, who comment, who message me privately to compliment me on what I have written and who haven’t complained (too much) about being written about.  I write about you because I love you and you are my life now. ~Edward from Twilight…LOL 

To my Aunt S who has loved me since the day I was born, who has supported me, encouraged me and picked me up when I felt like falling – you are my strongest ally, my role-model of what a woman, a mother, should be.  Thank you I love you more than you know.  I look forward to your comments on my new blog. 

To all my ex’s who have been written about – I’m sorry that a part of your life was spread out for all the world to read, I am sorry if I have hurt anyone by writing the truth – my truth at least as I see it.  To be fair, I warned you. 

Finally, to the girl who was Nikilee30, three years ago…wow – did you ever picture THIS is where you would end up?  You are pretty impressive lady.  You have taken the good and the bad in stride and even though you have made some messed up choices (dating in the DR what were you thinking?), you have come out happy and ahead of the game…things will be tough in the next couple of years as your learn to live your own life, without your father to guide you, but you are finally at a place where you can totally handle anything!  You got this.  Keep your head up high and smile through it all and you WILL BE OKAY 

My new blog address is  Please follow me, join me and inspire me as I take on the joys and sorrows of trying to become pregnant (more details are on that blog). 

XOXO Nikilee

Let’s talk – no really…let’s talk

When I was in the eighth grade, I would visit a guidance counselor at school because I was chubby and even though I had lots of friends, I was sad about my weight, feeling inferior to my skinny peers. 

While in high school, I saw Ms. D on a regular basis, also my guidance counselor, to talk about school, home, friends, relationships and what the heck I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

After graduating from high school, I felt strong and confidant, ready to take on University, and while there was some hard times, I didn’t seek therapy the whole four years I was there – I didn’t feel I needed it. 

Some people don’t believe in therapy – they think it’s for people who are really messed up, or that the Doctor just prescribes medication and BOOM you are all healed.  They don’t know.  They can’t understand because they are closed-minded to the importance of an unbiased ear. 

I believe in therapy, for me, I should say.  When GBF and I broke up and my “future” came to a crashing halt, I knew I would require the help of a therapist to be okay.  I felt weak; I am okay with saying that.  I went on a light dose of medication to calm my scorching panic attacks.  Suicide was not something I could ever see me resulting to, however without someone to talk to, you never know; it could have gone either way.  I went through weekly therapy sessions for months, hashing out what happened, what went wrong and how to start healing my own heart, not depending on others to heal it for me. 

Since my father’s passing one month ago (wow, I cannot believe he has been gone a month) I knew that therapy would probably be required again, but I have been lazy about it.  There has been so much work to do lately that I have ignored that nagging feeling at the side of my brain that I am not okay.  There has been so much loss in the past three years of my life that I know; once again, I need someone to talk to.  Someone who is not family or a close personal friend, but someone who is trained and professional and will give me strategies and tools to accept my fate and move forward with my life. 

I will be calling today to book an appointment.  I don’t want to wait too long.  No one should wait too long.  Why suffer, when you don’t have to?  At times, I feel like I need the suffering, I need the pain to remind me that this is all real, that he is gone, but I know in my heart he never would want me to feel this way (though I also know he knew this is exactly how I would feel and that’s why he held out so long). My Public Service Announcement for today is this: if you or someone you know is suffering or hurting, get them to talk to someone, a professional who can take care of you or your loved one.  Please.  

XOXO Nikilee

seven piles of what???

When someone has worked a full life, retired, had benefits, RRSP’s, stocks, bank accounts, property and insurances they also have another thing – a LOT of paper. 

Last night, I decided it was time to buckle down and organize my father’s paper work.  However, I have never seen 90% of the documents he has before because other than a bank account, I don’t own a lot of “paper”.  Trying to figure out what I need and what I don’t need is difficult and time consuming.  I had gotten a large majority of it finally placed in neat piles, went to the washroom and when I came out, my lovely dog had decided to trample all over it, moving it around the bed and half on the floor. 

“I love my dog I love my dog I love my dog I love my dog I love my dog I love my dog I love my dog I love my dog” 

So frustrating, his cute, sad looking face made me sigh and move on though.  Needless to say, I lovingly pushed him off the bed and started again.  It wasn’t so hard because I knew I wanted to keep it all at least because the garbage papers I had placed in a large envelope for shredding.  

When everything is said and done, I will get a will, I will prepare as much as my documents as I can and I’ll do my best not to hoard anything.  This is a lot of work.  

It’s heartbreaking to do it, and to do it alone, saddens me to my core, but I also know it needs to be done.  It’s hard to see my father’s life, resulting in just paper work left behind.  

The government doesn’t make it easy either – everyone wants copies of the will, death certificates, my signature in blood (okay maybe not so dramatic but it FEELS dramatic).  

I am exhausted.  My father was a fairly organized man, but after 69 years of life, things are bound to need some taking care of.  Good thing for everyone, organizing is a sport to me.  I will continue everything else I need to do tonight and tomorrow and hopefully by the weekend what I need to do will be done. 

Time will tell…
XOXO Nikilee

I’m learning so much

I have never been a pet owner – that hamster I owned when I was 13 doesn’t count – neither do the dozen fish I tried to keep alive all those years ago.  Being a pet owner is different from what I imagined.  Here are the top five things I have learned in just one week

1. When you own a pet, all of your neighbours, friends and family will want to come say hello Every day that i walk Simba we say hello to new people – people who would not be saying hello to me if I was walking down the street alone (though really WHY would I be walking down my street at 6:30 in morning alone, I just wouldn’t).

2. If you leave your pet alone for 8.5 hours and he’s a small dog with a small bladder – he will pee on YOUR side of the bed and on YOUR pillow because you know he wants to piss you off and teach you a lesson – idiot, all I learned was that your cute little ass is now being crated when I go to work!

3. They have an insatiable energy I can throw that ball once or one thousand times and he will always run and catch it and bring it back looking up at me hopelessly because the little bugger can’t throw it himself.

4. He will eat only when HE is hungry and not on your schedule, even if that means making you late for work I don’t understand how he is not starving in the morning but when we come back from our walk at 6:30 I put food in his dish and he will follow me around until I’m almost ready to leave and THEN he will decide he’s hungry and eat. 

5. I love him more than I ever imagined loving him and I just want him to be happy and healthy even if that means I don’t sleep or I need to throw the ball until my arm is sore or change my sheets after having JUST changed them.  I love Simba, he has changed my world, but my world is so cloudy and grey right now that his little bit of sunshine is just what I needed.

XOXO Nikilee

Keeping up

Keeping busy, occupied, is the answer.  The question: how do you move past the passing of your most loved loved one? 

It’s not the right answer – I know that.  Anyone knows that.  However, when time doesn’t permit you to heal, when you have a job, you don’t have time to heal properly.  I don’t have real time to grieve.  I need to be at work – focused.  So I keep busy.  With work and friends and my new dog, my days are full.   My life is full.  

My heart is another story.  It is empty; there is a large gaping wound where the love for my father once sat comfortably.   I am angry with the world, angry that he left to soon, angry that his last few years were not kind to him, angry that he died alone, not holding my hand the way he would have been there to hold mine. 

I know it’s not my fault, in my heart – I know that.  But I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye, I didn’t get to make him giggle one last time – he didn’t get to see my biggest dream come true (more on that another day) and that makes me angry.  I am sure at some point, grief counseling will come, because I cannot be angry forever – forever is not necessarily a long time – and I want to live my life the way my dad would have wanted me to, happy, cheerful, social and spontaneous, the way I lived it before, before he passed away, before he got sick, before he was taken from me, my brother, my sister-in-law, his grandchildren and his cousin. 


XOXO Nikilee

What do you do

What do you do when you find yourself living alone – for the first time ever at 32?  What do you when your father, your best friend, your hero passes away leaving you to fend for yourself in the big world that’s not always pleasant? 

You buy a dog?  Well, okay technically I was given a dog.  A three-year old Golden Cocker Retriever who is the sweetest boy in the world.  I am in love already and while I tried hard to ignore his big brown eyes and floppy cocker spaniel ears, I soon felt a calling to take him in.  He needed love, affection, care.  I need love, affection and well – not care, but compassion; getting an animal is an ideal win-win.  His name is Simba and he is my friend.

The day I met him

The day I met him

When I brought him home...

When I brought him home…

Bed Time

Bed Time

He loves his mommy

He loves his mommy

Joshua and Simba - instant friends

Joshua and Simba – instant friends

XOXO Nikilee

he’s gone and my heart is sad

I am sorry bloggers that I have been away so long, my father, my best friend, passed away almost three weeks ago and I miss him, more everyday.  I can’t write about him, not yet, so I am going to post my eulogy to him:

How do you say goodbye to someone who helped give you life?  How do you move on after you have spent the majority of your life counting on one person to get you through the everyday?  How do you wake up and not say good morning dad! (Okay let’s face it, my dad never would have been awake early enough for me to say good morning – anything earlier then 10:00 was ungodly to him)  The truth is, you don’t.  You don’t say good bye – you hope for see you later, you don’t move on, you just move forward and you don’t say good morning, you pray for his peace instead.

On July 21st, 2013, in the very early morning hours, the world, my world lost a hero, a father, a grandfather and a friend.  Edward Kenneth Milway was born on February 11, 1944 in Toronto, ON.  He was an only child to Albert Kenneth and Martha Mary and grew up in the city he loved.  Movies were a nickel or a dime depending on the theater and kids walked to school – both ways up hill in the rain and snow – barefoot, always barefoot.    Or at least that’s the story my father would tell me when I asked for bus fare to get to my own high school down the street.

When my brother and I decided to have a service for my father I immediately thought “who’s going to speak?”  Naturally, me being the talker in the family – the one who rarely shuts up, I knew it would probably be me, my father would have wanted that.   At the same time I knew I didn’t have much to say about his childhood.  He had it good.  Great friends and family, my nana and poppy who  loved and adored him right up to the day of each of their deaths, my grandfather in 1987 and my grandmother just a couple years ago.  What I will talk about is what I know for sure – my life with him for the past 32 years. 

My father, with me,  was a man of very few words – unless he had something important to say, then, I could never get him to stop talking, even when I desperately wish he would – because he was usually lecturing me or grounding me for one thing or another.  From a teenager, my father raised me to be the woman I am today – now that’s up to you to decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but for me, I will always be grateful to him because he let me make mistakes, carefully guiding me and protecting me to make smarter choices.  Now don’t get me wrong, our relationship was never perfect – he was trying to raise a teenage girl, predominately on his own and I was trying to BE a teenage girl, who was wild and crazy and free.  I am sure any man in attendance today can only imagine his fear at something happening to his precious little girl.  I was the only kid in my entire high school to have a ridiculous curfew in my senior year.  Midnight was the time my dad decided only bad things happen after that, so I was to be home by 12:00 – not 12:01, never 12:01 or else I felt his wrath in the form of a grounding and disappointment only a father can use.  As a 19 year old who wanted to party and hang out with her friends – this was a constant source of bitterness between us – now though, now that I am older and arguably more mature, I am grateful, I am sure the trouble I would have gotten into, had he allowed me to be free would have hurt me more in the end.    His encouragement in everything I have ever done or decided is why I do what I do today.  When I wanted to go away to University (to get away from the stupid curfew)  he took me to different campuses so I could make an educated choice – telling me not to choose a school based on how cute the male population was, or the proximity of the closest bar.  When I chose Trent, I knew secretly he was pleased as it was the closest school to home that I had applied to and my dad loved having me close by.  I’ll tell you a secret (I loved being close by too)

Having lived with my father most of my life I consider myself blessed – people say he was lucky to have me because I was his primary caregiver the last few years of his life, but it’s the complete opposite,   I wouldn’t be able to stand here today, if I hadn’t grown up loved, cherished and spoiled rotten by the man who was and always will remain my hero


XOXO daddy, I love you


I hate this week

The three white walls, with the hideous flowered curtain making a fourth, stare back at me silently, mocking me at every turn.  The smell of disinfectant and sickness make me nauseous and I want to cry, I want to scream. The beeping of the machines telling me something, but I am not sure what, is increasing the pressure in my head.  I am back in the hospital.  My father is ill, how ill, I don’t yet know, but the blood stained walls and floors at my house tell me something can’t be right.

Wednesday was a long day for me bloggers.  My father called me at work (always a key sign something is wrong – seriously wrong), by the time I got home he was dizzy and lying on the floor.  911 was called immediately.  It turns out a bleeding ulcer, is just that – it bleeds and causes quite the mess in your system (and my home).  The nurses and doctors made him comfortable after he was taken to Scarborough General Hospital and a blood bag was brought in for an infusion.  He’s had three more since then. 

Having donated blood numerous times in the past (being denied last time in April because of my tattoo) I have never been so grateful to those who take their time to donate their fresh clean blood.  It stabilized my father; it has saved my brother’s life in the past and countless others.  I will be donating again as soon as possible, and I hope – and pray – that everyone reading this will take time out this weekend or next to attend a donation centre – it doesn’t take long and the reward (saving lives) is priceless. 

My dad is doing better – they have scoped his stomach and we are waiting for the results.  Every minute and hour that passes by where he is okay brings me hope that he will come home soon and be back where he belongs.  Those who know me know my father is the most important person in my life.  He is my support, my hero, my daddy.  The house, without him in it, is empty, quiet and unfamiliar.  I don’t like it.  His creaking floor boards are a soothing sound, now I just lie in bed, trying to control my panic, my anxiety knowing that I have to keep my mind and body stress free.  Things are changing in my life, drastic changes.  This website – soon will be coming to an end, another taking its place.  More details to come, I promise. 

For now, I must stand up straight, be brave and strong and get through the next few days. 

XOXO Nikilee

And now for something a little different

Very rarely do I post a blog related to my work, because that is SO NOT what this blog is about and could be considered a conflict of interest, but I have been thinking lately about volunteering and how so many people (of all ages) do not do it and yet complain like crazy when they can’t get work because they have no relevant or recent experience. 

Now I am not talking about my client’s because that would be a huge breach of trust, I am talking more about the young people I know personally – outside of work who are required to get volunteer hours in to complete high school and who don’t put any kind of thought into it – or worse yet expect their parents to tell them where to volunteer and get them to arrange everything.  How in the world are these children supposed to take care of themselves and fend for themselves, if they can’t possibly think outside the box and volunteer to build skills for change?  

Surprisingly THIS makes my blood boil.  As an employment case worker I am well aware of the stats of high school grads getting jobs (it sucks – big time) and those that have put in an effort to volunteer regularly, not just the required 40 hours have a MUCH higher percentage of finding stable, lasting work. 

Who should be at blame here?  The kids?  The parents?  The school?  Everyone wants to blame the schools – it’s always the government’s fault, parents have no responsibility right?  WRONG!  A parent’s only job in life is to prepare their children to survive on their own, if they fail at that – they have failed as parents, at least in my humble opinion.  Schools, play their role – believe me!  However, they only have your kids for 5-8 hours a day and usually they are running around trying to make sure the kids have been successful with the education piece they will require to get a job in the future. 

Why would a company care about someone who volunteers????

There are no dumb questions here (well maybe), but I’ll answer anyway…

Volunteering gives you skills you just can’t get from sitting at home playing video games, swimming at the beach or chilling with your friends!  Skills such as leadership, problem solving, conflict resolution, communication, punctuality, adaptability, time-management and team work.  These are just a few of the skills and qualifications MANY high-quality employers are not only looking for on the resume, but desire in an ideal candidate. And they want demonstrated experience here people, not just a statement on the resume. 

I was on LinkedIn the other day looking through different people s LinkedIn pages (always creeping) and almost all of the PROFESSIONALS had one things in common on their page – they had volunteering listed.  They may not volunteer now, many of these people, like me, are in their 30’s and 40’s and have full-time jobs, families and other responsibilities, but they did volunteer for hundreds of hours, many years and for countless non-profit organizations.  

I am asking, begging, pleading with you to not forget those that need our help.  Volunteer, get involved, and help out where it’s needed.  Your resume and your career will thank you – trust me!

XOXO Nikilee

While some things change – I guess some things never will

In high school, I was incredibly confidant for my age and gender.  Teenage girls are by theory, insecure, naive and immature.  I wasn’t.  I mean don’t get me wrong, I know I had my moments – but I really didn’t care too much what others thought of me and I had a close group of friends that I felt were equals – that I wasn’t competing for attention or trust or loyalty. 

Once I moved to Peterborough for University though, something happened – something changed, I changed.  Now maybe my environment was too overwhelming – Peterborough is as opposite as Scarborough as you can get in both good and bad ways, but I lost myself, I lost my faith in me, I lost those close friends who had been my confidants and for the first time in years, I had to make new friends – I didn’t think it would be so hard considering I am known as the social butterfly by nature.  However, I constantly felt like I was competing for friendships, like I wasn’t good enough or cool enough or special enough to be cared about on a consistent basis.  Through my four years at Trent, I always felt on edge, my anxiety really starting to overtake the best parts of me.  I was paranoid constantly, stuttering through my words and actions and my grades suffered because of it.  The people I was closest to in University would never call me “smart” or a “good student”.  But I was – in high school at least!?  So what changed?  

I don’t know, I still don’t. 

Coming home after graduation, I had to pick up the pieces of my life, figure out where I belonged, what life I wanted for myself.  When Filipino boy and I broke up – I was heartbroken, but not surprised at all because I had changed and so had he.  We would have hated each other if we had stayed together, resentment would have grown.

After almost ten years since graduating Trent, I have changed again to be a more confidant, self-assured woman, sure of who I am, what I say and what I mean.  I am more of the me in high school – with better decision-making capabilities (cause my decision-making skills seriously lacked through 99% of  Cedarbrae). 

And then I have dinner with my Trent friends and I’m thrown back ten years – just like that. 

I had dinner on Saturday night with B, his fiancé, N and her husband.  Now B and N were two people I was probably closest to at the end of it all even though I had suffered many ups and downs, teasing and playing with them throughout my four years with Trent.  I see B regularly as he lives closest to me, but N I haven’t seen since 06, maybe 07.  The whole evening was great, we had a great meal, talked a lot about the “good ol’ days” and what’s current in our lives, but I found myself sounding “dumber ” than I actually am.  I found myself stumbling through my words and ganged up on again.  I am sure it was all in my head, I know we are all mature(ish) adults who have all made names for ourselves in our respected industries, with friends and with family, but with a knock on the door, I was 20 years old fighting for attention, hoping they would still like me.  

How stupid?!  I know – trust me…sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and I shake my head whenever that other me – the old me – shows her face.  And other times, I smile knowing that at the end of the day – I love who I am, who I have become and all the stuff I have had to go through in between, is just that – stuff, stuff that disappears with maturity and years.  And with this chapter of my life slowly coming to an end, a new one about to begin (more details later) I must be as strong as I can!

XOXO Nikilee