I love Bonnie Crombie dearly. She is my best friend’s mum. She calls me her “third son”. I cannot help but be part of her campaign. It is a family affair.

Readers deserve to know that before reading another word.

They should also know that loving Bonnie does not mean she takes my advice.

Frankly, I did not want her to run for Ontario Liberal leader. I thought it would be an uphill battle. When she considered running for mayor again, I urged her not to. That would not be easy, either.

She did both anyway.

That tells you something about my powers of persuasion. It also tells you something about Bonnie.

She is tenacious, sometimes infuriatingly so. She is relentless. The prospect of something being difficult does not settle the question for her. Neither does the possibility that she might lose.

And she might just prove me wrong. Recent polling has put her out front in a close race. She tells media this is the best campaign she has ever run. Her ambitious agenda includes a subway extension to Mississauga.

She has a record to defend: years as a well-regarded mayor who championed fiscal discipline, diversity and inclusion, and economic development. She could have let that record stand and enjoyed the comforts of being a former mayor.

Instead, she is putting it on the line.

There is nothing comfortable about asking voters to judge you again. Your accomplishments are reopened for debate. Your mistakes are rehashed. People who once praised you discover reasons to explain why you were never particularly good in the first place.

She knows all that. She is running anyway.

We teach our children to persevere. When you get knocked down, you get back up. You learn from what happened and decide what to do next.

Yet when Bonnie does precisely that, we are told it is evidence of entitlement. She cannot take a hint. She just wants her old job back. Why won’t she go away?

What a miserable lesson to teach.

There are legitimate questions for Bonnie to answer. She left the mayor’s office to lead the Ontario Liberals. That venture did not end as she hoped. Residents are entitled to ask why she wants to return, what she learnt and what she would do with another mandate.

Having won two elections myself, I understand that previous service gives you a record to defend. It does not entitle you to a single vote.

Bonnie has to earn people’s confidence. But there is a difference between requiring someone to earn another opportunity and treating her willingness to ask as something shameful.

The suggestion that she simply wants her old job back dismisses her motives without engaging with her proposals. A subway is a serious proposal. So are her commitments to scrutinize spending and attract investment. Question their costs, their feasibility and her ability to deliver them.

The sneering is easier to do. It is also revealing.

Alvin Tedjo, whom I consider a friend, has contested six elections in recent years. He has won one: the council race in which Bonnie endorsed him.

I do not begrudge Alvin the right to keep running. I do resent the double standard.

If his repeated candidacies demonstrate a commitment to public service, why does hers demonstrate entitlement? If he can lose and still believe he has something to contribute, why should she be embarrassed to reach the same conclusion?

Surely someone who has repeatedly asked voters for another opportunity should understand.

There is a gendered dimension to that double standard, too.

We describe experienced men as seasoned or battle-tested, as Bonnie herself argued in an recent op-ed. Male defeats become chapters in a story of resilience. Our ambition tells us we still have something to offer.

With women, experience too often becomes evidence that they have been around too long. Ambition becomes an unflattering personal trait. A refusal to give up becomes an inability to recognize that their time has passed.

A woman must gain experience to be taken seriously, then explain why that experience has not made her obsolete. She must demonstrate strength without seeming difficult and resilience without inconveniencing anyone by actually taking up space.

In a city whose identity was shaped by Hazel McCallion, calling a 66 year old “yesterday’s woman” is particularly absurd.

Then there was Carolyn Parrish calling Bonnie a “blonde bombshell” at a debate. What does Bonnie’s hair and good looks have to do with her ability to manage the city?

The fact that another woman said it does not make it less demeaning. Nor does “politics is tough” provide an all-purpose excuse for behaving badly.

I understand sharp elbows. I have them. But we can argue forcefully about someone’s judgment without belittling her appearance or suggesting she should have the decency to disappear.

What I admire most about Bonnie is that she has refused to let any of that diminish her ambition for the city. She is asking residents for a mandate to do the job before her, and she is working all out to earn it.

Getting back up is only the beginning. Then you have to give people a reason to believe in what you want to do next.

We love a comeback story once we know how it ends. Living through it is harder. You have to risk being rejected again, without knowing whether your determination will eventually be described as courage or foolishness.

The polls may now be encouraging. They were not a guarantee available to her when she decided to run.

I urged Bonnie not to put herself through another difficult campaign. Those of us who love someone sometimes want to protect them from disappointment. But even loving advice can place too much weight on what might go wrong.

She decided she still had something to offer. Watching her make that case with such energy and conviction has taught me something, too.

Voters will decide whether she becomes mayor. But her willingness to put her reputation on the line and work relentlessly for another mandate deserves a more serious response than mockery.

Bonnie calls me her third son. Perhaps it is fitting that she is still teaching me a lesson a parent would want a child to learn.

Defeat does not have to define you. Neither does someone else’s assessment of your limitations. You can learn, get back up and attempt something worth doing.

I told her it would be difficult. She went ahead anyway.

I am proud of her for that. And I am tired of the bullshit that says she should be ashamed.