Debrief with Debb: Good Friday? “DEBBatable”

Dear Diary,

I don’t really know where to start, so here goes!  It’s Friday.  

Good Friday, apparently.  Was it good? … debatable.

Let me rewind to 2009.  Big year.

I was in my late 20s.  Single, independent, and somehow; when I think about it now; kind of badass.

Jus sayin’ … I bought a condo in Toronto. On my own.  That condo wasn’t just property. It was my life.  Single-girl era.  Figuring-it-out era.  Wine-on-the-couch, dream-big, cry-a-little, grow-a-lot era.

That same year, I’d been practicing Bikram Yoga for a few months and noticed that the Yoga Teacher Training was coming up and that the graduation date just happened to be my 30th birthday.  So obviously, a sign that I had to go.  Duh.  So glad that I followed that hunch.

Then life got cooler. I traveled. Taught yoga in Australia, New Zealand, Scotland.

And while I was off seeing the world, strangers (yes literal strangers) lived in my home and paid my mortgage.  Crazy when you think about it.  But also, it worked.  Every tenant I had was amazing. Mostly. Respectful. Easy. Good humans.  So I trusted.  Of course I did.

Then COVID hit.  No job. No income. Panic mode activated.

I thought about selling the condo, starting fresh somewhere north … and that’s when my mom (aka Mama Cabral, the most generous human alive) said:

“Why don’t you rent out your condo again and live at the cottage?  Just pay utilities.” 

(My parents bought a cottage that we loved and enjoyed on weekends in Innisfil many years prior).  Cool!

Deal!  Done.  I moved to Innisfil … and I was hooked.

Like, “this is it” hooked.  People looking up from their phones and waving to me on morning walks? Weird. But cool. Different from Toronto life. Lake Simcoe nearby.  Cleaner air.  Quieter energy.  I found my rhythm again. Teaching online. Picking up admin work (thanks to my HR cousin, Patricia!). Back at Namaste North.  I was a “guest teacher” there from time to time when I visited Innisfil, so being there more often was "cool" obviously . Everything started clicking.  And the condo income was perfect.  Until it wasn’t.

Enter: The Tenants From Hell

A family. A couple and their 5-year-old daughter. Kind at first sight. Polite. Paid first and last upfront.  And when you’re in a position where you need a tenant? You say yes.  (Also… small confession: I had never done a credit check before. Not once. Five tenants. All great. I trust people. That’s just who I am.)  And this time … that trust cost me. Big time.

Fast forward to last year.  The same year I got married.  Beautiful, exciting, life-changing year … and also, the year stress decided to move in full time.  These as%hole tenants stopped paying rent.  Completely. Just stopped.  A usual trip to No Frills is where it all started and I realized this madness. Groceries loaded up, doing my normal thing.  My card gets declined.  Impossible.  It’s rent day. I got paid. There’s money there.  I call the bank.  My account is locked due to “suspicious activity.”  What?  I’m standing there like … what do you mean suspicious? (My life is suspicious right now).  I had no money on me.  None.  Who carries cash anymore?  Anyone?

So I did what any grown, independent, condo-owning, house-owning married, yoga/Pilates teacher does in her 40s …  I called my mom.  “Do you have $80 cash?”  And without hesitation (because she’s her) showed up and paid for my groceries.  Grateful doesn’t even begin to cover that moment. There's also embarrassment, shame, guilt etc. etc. etc. ... ya know ... all the things.

I call my tenant.  “I don’t know what’s going on, but my account is frozen after receiving your rent payment e-transfer.”  He says “you too? WTF??!! I don't know what's going on!”  He’s annoyed. 

His account is blocked too.

Dude … respectfully (not really) … read the room.

Apparently, until he sorted out his account, my account would stay frozen too.

So for four days, I had no debit, no credit, no access to my own money.

And sadly, life doesn’t pause because your bank does.

Gas.  Food.  Bills.

Things still come out … except they couldn’t.

My condo fees and other auto pay bills bounced.  NSF fees: $50 each.  Fun!

Then came:

“I don't have money right now. I'm going through tough times. Give me a break, will you?! I'll let you know when I have the money. I'm stressed. Stop bothering me.”  No job.  No warning.  No plan.  No rent.  No responding to my texts.  Cell phone off. The tribunal process took five months.  Five months of nothing coming in.  By the end of it, I was out A LOT of money (between what he owed and what I lost).  Barf amount … “can I afford avocados and tomatoes this week or just tomatoes” amount?

And here’s the part that lot of people don’t get:  Owning property doesn’t mean you’re rich.  

The rent pays the mortgage.  The bills.  Everything.  It’s income.  Breaking even is a win.  

And at the same time, I’m building a life in Innisfil with my husband.

So yeah… things got tight.  We borrowed from family.  From banks.  We made it work (somehow).  Because what else do you do?  By the fall, I was done.  I put the condo up for sale. It sold a few months later.  And honestly, BIG exhale.  It closes in two weeks.  But the ripple effects are still there.  I still get the as&hole's mail.  (I'm legally allowed to open it as per my lawyer's advice, since it's my property). He owes a lot of other people money; not just me.  His wife does too.  Professional scammers.   Court dates. No shows.  Next one’s in October.  Because the system is … patient (for tenants, not for landlords).  

And somehow…

I still believe in people. 

Fast forward to today.  Good Friday.

Rui (my hubby), my uncle, my brother and I go to grab the last of my things at the condo.

Third floor. Few loads. Easy.

Except…

I didn’t book the elevator (because in my head, “It’s 4 trips max, it’s Good Friday, office is closed, no need to bother, we’re on the third floor, no big deal, no one will be disrupted, notice or need to wait for the elevator, no one’s around …)

Enter: concierge who stops Rui in P1 (because they’re watching from the concierge camera because they’re so f*ckin busy.)  “You can’t continue. It’s against condo policy.”  I try to reason.  “We only have a couple trips.  I have my family here to help.  We live an hour away.  It’s only small stuff I can carry in my hands.  It's a long weekend.  I have someone picking up the sofa in 20 minutes from Facebook Marketplace (whole other beast btw, more on that later), I’ll cover any damage.  Please?”  

Nope.  “I saw a box spring in the hallway, Debbie.”  Okay … and? 

Internally: if you go on break, this problem will be solved.

Externally: Ugh.  My fault, I should’ve booked the elevator.  Fine.  Accountability.  Growth.  And yes … technically … she’s right.  And also … uber annoying.   So we stop.  Elevator booked for 9am tomorrow. I cried.  Such a sensitive Cancer. True story.  Not sobbing.  But a few tears.  In that moment, it felt like everything piled up.  I felt bad … like I wasted my family’s time.  They were fine though.  It happens.  And then of course sweet Rui looked at me and said,  “Hey … hey … don’t look like that.  It happens, my love… it’s ok. We’ll go eat and come back tomorrow.”  So we did.  We loaded what we could.  Went to the pub. Had lunch. Maybe a couple beers.  We laughed.  We caught up.  We made a day out of it with the boys. And there you go … everything was fine.

Rewind to this morning, before any of this even happened.

I was up at 6:30am, did a workout at 7am. Taught HIIT Pilates at 8:30am.

And at the end of class, I shared something about self-control… about using the strength you do have… about noticing your thoughts instead of becoming them… about writing your own story.

And one of my students/friends (someone I hadn’t seen in a while) came up to me after class and cried, because what I said really resonated with her.  Because she needed it.  And later on, I thought about her. We're human. We feel. This is who we are.  Not the chaos.  Not the stress.  Not the money.  This.

Money comes and goes.  People disappoint you.  Plans fall apart. 

And sometimes…  You forget to book the elevator.

But also.

You’re still here.  I’m still here.  We’re figuring it out.  In ten years, this won’t feel heavy. 

In one year it probably won’t either.  It’ll be a story.

“Remember when you didn’t book the elevator and we went to the pub instead?”

Because at the end of the day…

It’s not about the money (still barf though).

It’s not about the tenant.

It’s not even about the elevator.

It’s about how you respond.

Do you spiral?  (maybe for a moment)

Or do you pause… breathe… and go get a beer with people you love?

I’m learning.  Slowly… but surely.

And if life is doing its thing to you right now too,

Just know…  you’re going to be ok (and maybe even cool) ...

Responding vs. reacting takes practice.

Your turn!

• Yogadebb

Building strength, mindset, and real-life consistency, one breath at a time :)