The Make It Happen Mantra: My Story
Growing up, our family had a simple but powerful mantra: "Make it happen." My dad, a businessman equally devoted to his volunteer work at the church, lived by this philosophy. He took us on family trips to orphanages and hospitals, much to my older sister’s dismay. She would complain, "Why can't we ever go on a normal vacation?" But for my parents, every trip was an opportunity for a lesson.
Our school drop-offs were anything but glamorous. My dad drove an old Mazda truck with a busted-off bumper, which my sister found so embarrassing that she would ask to be let out a few blocks away. That same truck was where I learned to drive a standard, struggling to make it up hills—sometimes even driving without a license. That scrappy determination would follow me through every chapter of my life.
The Higgs Family, Graeme, Diana, Sarah, Rebekah and James
When I went to Acadia University to study music and theatre, a friend gifted me a clunky, mostly worthless acoustic guitar. I taught myself to play just enough chords to strum a cover tune around a campfire, eventually turning the poetry I loved into songs. My early music taste was something I would later consider embarrassing—covering Ani DiFranco and Liz Phair before I became a hipster musician touring Canada.
After university, I started playing open mics in Halifax, where I met Jon McKiel, who would soon become my touring partner. Around that time, I saw Jill Barber perform at the Marquee. She swung her big red hollow-body guitar wildly, singing like Stevie Nicks and stumbling around like a sexy, tortured Parisian woman who had drunk too much wine. I asked her to meet me for coffee and bombarded her with questions about how to turn music into a real career. She was three years in, and I told myself, "If I can be where she is in three years, I'll stick with it. Otherwise, I’ll move on."
I knew that no one else cared about my art and my music career like I did, and if I truly wanted to be on stage performing my own songs and touring the globe, I would have to do everything I could to “make it happen”.
I ended up playing music professionally for seven years. On a chance trip to the valley to sing backup vocals on a track, I met Thomas Ryder Payne—best known for the one-hit wonder "Sometime Wanna Die." I decided to write a grant and go to Toronto to record my first album in his basement. (Well, technically, I had recorded an earlier album, but it was so embarrassing that I begged my dad to bury the box of CDs in the backyard and never mention it again.) It was in Toronto that I truly found my voice, rounding out an album with ten tracks, self-printing CDs, and shipping them out to college radio and record companies. By 2007, I was signed to Outside Music, had Rob Zifarelli as my booking agent, and was charting on college radio. I got booked to play SXSW, CMJ, Pop Montreal, NXNE, and Sled Island, won an NS Music Award, and was nominated for Female Artist of the Year and New Artist of the Year at the ECMAs.
Side note: My second solo album “Odd Fellowship” was recorded at the Old Confidence Lodge in Riverport Nova Scotia with producer Bryan Deck who has worked with bands and artists including Modest Mouse & Iron & Wine. In between those two albums I also recorded a record with my electronic dance band, Ruby Jean & The Thoughtful Bees. You can listen to my music on Apple or Spotify.
photo by Andrew Hines
Ruby Jean and the Thoughtful Bees Featuring Jason Vautour, Rebekah Higgs and Nathan Doucette.
But by 2012, I was heartbroken from a string of failed relationships with 6’3” men, had burned too many bridges to keep booking great tours, and found myself in a toxic relationship fueled by alcohol, party pills, and bad decisions. By August 2012, I was pregnant with Lennon, and everything changed. I had to start over.
Becoming a mom changed everything. It was the catalyst that would become the next chapter of my life. A 10 year journey of determination to make a better life for me and my daughter.
I moved back home to Halifax after two years of struggling as a waitress in Toronto. Now, with a one-year-old on my hip, I decided to take a crack at the film industry. I landed a job at Egg Films as an associate producer—not because I had formal training, but because I knew how to make myself indispensable. I showed up every day until I was eventually put on pay roll. For the first time I was making $1000 a week and giddy about it. I asked lots of questions, took an interest in people, and faked it until I made it. But eventually, my lack of experience caught up with me, and I was let go. That was the moment I walked straight into my doctor’s office and asked, "Why do I keep f***ing up my life?" That’s when I got my first ADHD diagnosis—at age 33. Getting medicated for the first time allowed me to stop self-medicating with pot and start making more productive choices.
That’s when DIY Mom was born. In my musician days, we prided ourselves on being DIY artists. As a single mom, I was doing it by myself. As a producer and content creator, I taught myself how to do it all. I drew a logo, built a website, and pitched a TV show that was part HGTV, part YouTube, with me as the host. Local production companies dismissed it—"There are lots of DIY moms out there." But that’s exactly why it would work. There were so many of us, and they could relate.
photo by Matthew McMullen 2017
I didn’t let the rejection stop me. I took my baby to a Women in Film and Television pitch contest and pitched a DIY home decor show that would be a mix of HGTV before and afters and YouTube tutorials, called DIY Mom. A few months later, the opportunity to buy my first home came up, and I jumped on it. I started renovating and filming the process, and soon Bell TV! offered me a small-budget access TV show. I put every penny—and then some—back into the show, turning five seasons of a low-budget TV series into a full-fledged career as a brand influencer. Ten years later, I’m one house flip away from being mortgage-free.
Rebekah Buys her first home in 2016 and starts filming DIY MOM.
Rebekah and Lennon Featured in the Chronicle Herald 2017
The Make It Happen mantra has shaped my entire journey. From scrappy beginnings to building a career in music, film, and now home design, I’ve learned that no one will make your dreams happen for you. You have to push forward, get creative, and never take no for an answer. And that’s exactly what I’ll keep doing.
photo by Matthew McMullen