(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)
The next five days living inside Rosie’s apartment was scary and intense. I quieted myself and told Rosie I will respect his wishes when it comes to telling his children that I was leaving. I felt like I was walking on eggshells.
Rosie had both his children living with him when all this happened. When I first moved in with him, it was back in July 2021. That timeframe was after I securely locked Wendy’s and Carla’s name deep inside my mind’s forbidden closet. Never to venture open again. Well at least until the day of the condoms. Today, I also know Rosie wasn’t sleeping with either Wendy, nor Carla, when I found the condoms. He was busy having an affair with an unsuspecting woman named Isabel. With an even less enlightened woman named Michelle on the side. I was at home helping his children learn and cope with everyday stresses. No wonder Rosie was on edge most of the time.
Hindsight, it’s a beautiful thing. With that said, I chose to keep the rose colored glasses on when it came to Rosie’s true character back then. Hence the name “Rosie”. My higher awareness gave him the name Rosie. My ego self was inspired by the thought. The universe has such a creative sense of humor. Do you agree?
When I moved into his place the the first time in July, 2021, his son Jean was the only one living with him. His daughter Alyssa, who is several months younger than her brother, was living with her mother within the city limits of Montreal. Alyssa moved in with Rosie, Jean, and myself, after a devastating event that took place between her mother’s boyfriend and herself. If my memory serves me correctly, it was April of the year 2022, when Alyssa came to stay with us. Rosie, Jean, and I were living in a two bedroom apartment. In a small military community. Outside of the city limits. We all lived there together, right up until my departure, after the condoms revelation.
Both of Rosie’s children were wedged between to highly toxic parents. Parents who both had a low EQ and a rather high IQ from my perspective. The children were being brought together each weekend, whilst remaining separated during the week. They were tossed around like a boomerang in an infinite loop. Being sent back and forth with their parents providing little focus on creating joy with their children.
It was heartbreaking to witness. The courts felt it best the kids remained separated this way because they had already been separated since moving to Quebec. Rosie and Gemma chose to live in separate apartments. With each parent raising one of their children full time. Rosie’s children began to live apart from one another around the spring of 2018. With that, the courts had ruled in favour of the children’s mother keeping custody of Alyssa in her home, whilst Rosie maintained custody of Jean in his home.
One of the major challenges in the outcome of this court ruling was the fact that both parents knew how to manipulate, and twist, or omit facts, when honesty was truly required. It didn’t really seem to matter with whom they were speaking, including me. They often played a game of a test of wills when it came to their ability to deflect blame or accept any form of accountability. I was playing too. I just had no idea that I was. This left the children constantly witnessing emotional, mental, and sometimes physical abuse between their parents. The children were also involved in unsafe circumstances with their mother’s boyfriend. Gemma, the children’s mother, had threatened to call the police, or family services on me in front of the children on more than one occasion. The children lived in constant fear. Gemma had a challenge accepting that I was created to breathe and that standing on the streets of Montreal was legal. As far as I know, anyway. Rosie was ignorant to emotional empathy. The children didn’t feel safe.
I had a soft spot for Rosie’s babies. I still do. With that said, the rose colored glasses I was wearing hadn’t come off. In my mind Rosie was doing the best he could. In my mind, if I am to love Rosie, then I accept and love his children as well.
Looking back now, I think Rosie knew I could be manipulated through the heart I had for his children. Rosie paid closer attention to me than I had realized. Right now, as I write this, I am being made aware of my choice to also underestimate Rosie’s intelligence. I used to get annoyed when he insinuated I was ignorant in what I had been speaking with him about. Insulting my intelligence was a red button for my teenager ego. I now note this awareness and thank the beautiful voice inside my mind for making me aware. I also send my sincere energetic apologies to Rosie.
Hypocrisy. Lesson learned. Even now, Rosie is an awesome teacher for me. I am learning a great deal about myself. Rosie was my catalyst for change. That’s honorable in my mind.
Sadly, I also think Rosie used those heartfelt emotions and morals with his children against me to keep me around. He would ask me my thoughts and opinions on how to address his ex and his children. At times he had me writing the text responses to his ex from his phone. Pretending to be him so that the authorities thought he was being proactive and respectful. He also vented to me often. He Believed it was possible that his children were being harmed when at their mother’s, or, that they may have been secretly working against him for their mother. All those conversations between Rosie and I created a strong motherly reaction in me to stay and protect the children. Through a loving, educational approach. Rosie is another man who knows how to pull at a person’s heartstrings.
Rosie’s children were sweethearts. His son Jean was highly intelligent and asked brilliant, thought provoking questions. Before all the trauma that brought him to a natural state of emotional and mental detachment. Questions such as, “why are there crosses on those gravestones? Where do we go when we die? What’s the reason my mom doesn’t like me? Why can’t I do right by my Dad? I keep telling the adults but no one is doing anything. Does no one believe me? I had a dream, what does it mean?” Jean confided in me a fair bit in the beginning. He asked me many questions. I love the time we had together. Jean has such a beautiful soul.
Jean suffered from nightmares often as well. He would have anywhere from one to four a week. He also had a tendency to talk and sleepwalk. He was seven when he asked me those questions. There were many long walks and talks between Rosie’s son and I back then. I cherish those memories. We would go to my favorite meditation spot down by the water. My heart broke for him. Even though he was a troubled kid, I could feel his soft loving nature. He was truly an affectionate boy under those emotionally turbulent circumstances. He was lost and wanted to understand himself. I can empathize with that.
When I left in 2023, Jean was eleven. No longer the sweet curious seven year old. He gave hugs still. More often than not it was when he first arrived home from school or at bedtime because that was what was expected from him. Ask him how his day went and you’d get one word responses. “Good”. “Fine”. “Yeah”. “No”. He changed drastically from the soft affectionate little person I went for walks with back in 2020.
Jean went from being a little person with a healthy sense of curiosity to a detached nonchalant about life, and himself young man. That’s who I saw when I went back in 2023 anyway. This was the choice Jean made for himself. That’s what life is all about. Making free will choices to design an incredible journey, for the purpose of self awareness, and personalized evolution. We all make our own choices based upon our personal experiences. Even eleven year olds choose, subconsciously or otherwise, what character they are developing for themselves. No matter how easy or how hard life experiences can be.
It was incredibly heartbreaking to watch Jean’s transformation. He was up against expectations of high grades, being the go-between for both his parents, as well as, adjusting to me living with him. He was dealing with his sister being raised under a different roof with his mother, to his sister moving in with him permanently at his dad’s. Finally, Jean was also dealing with his parents being constantly combative with one another. This was the lovely meal life had dished out to him.
I witnessed Jean’s transition from a soft, loving, and curious little person, to an angry, quiet, misunderstood tween. I witnessed his light dim over a five year span. Sometimes to this day I catch myself thinking painful thoughts. I wasn’t always consistently loving towards him when I was there either. Sometimes the drama was too much. I too became stern and unwavering in my opinion towards the end of my time with him.
More often than not I am a loving, calm person. At the height of tension between Jean’s parents, Rosie and I, Rosie’s mother and the kids, or between Rosie’s mother and myself, there was no unity inside the home. Only unhealthy heavy division in the energetic atmosphere. I found myself mimicking Rosie’s approach to parenting. I started to have less patience. I wouldn’t fully hear the kids out when they were explaining something. I made false accusations on at least one occasion. I was becoming increasingly unkind to them in the final days of mine and Rosie’s situation ship, which had its grand finale on August 27th, 2024.
I saw Jean vacate his eyes one time when I was yelling at him. It instantly stung my heart in that moment. Still does a little. We were all living together under one roof. Rosie, his mother, both children, a new dog named Kody, and myself. We were living in a new house Rosie bought with his mother.
I didn’t know Rosie’s mother owned the house too when I moved in. That information was provided to me later. Rosie’s mother didn’t care for me from day one. It was highly apparent when she grabbed the multivitamins off the kitchen counter and said to me in french, “these are for the kids, not for you”. Then placed the bottle of vitamins out of my reach. That was on my second day in this new place, and after I chose once again to forgive Rosie enough to have one last ditch effort towards a healthy relationship.
His mother didn’t like me. I found that confusing since Rosie had told me he had confessed to all his wrong doings to his mother and children. I was under the impression she knew of the many sorted affairs and misdealings. He lied. I know that today. Back then I just figured she was placing me in a competitive game over her son, to which I didn’t sign up for. I found her to be somewhat insecure about her position in the family for some reason. She was determined to assert her rank.
Today, I know she wasn’t holding all of the information about Rosie’s wrong doings when it came to me. She only knew that I had left and that I came back. Perhaps with a sprinkle of truth on Rosie’s part. He did paint himself the victim often enough, so whatever truth Rosie gave his mum, was probably a little dash here and a little dash there.
Rosie had a tendency to play the victim role in his mind. He would be quick to identify his actions with a reasoning such as, “it’s because of what happened to me then”. It doesn’t make sense for him to confess to being the villain to his mother. It does make sense for him to paint himself as a victim in some way, shape, or form.
It was extremely challenging to live with a man and his mom. Especially when his mom didn’t speak english, I knew a little french, and neither of us were living the truth. Both Rosie’s mother and I were unwilling to see the truth in Rosie’s character. We were all told lies by Rosie. Purposefully omitting factual information is lying by omission in my reality.
The day of the vacant eyes with Jean was particularly challenging. He had gotten into some trouble at school for something he did towards another student. I confronted him about it. He became disrespectful. I went off. I had a red button when it came to blatant disrespect and lying. I tended to have a greater challenge at maintaining my ego when addressed this way. Doesn’t matter who the person is or what position they hold. Whilst I was yelling at Jean, he went away. He was physically in front of me. Yet he carried a vacant expression. He was triggered in trauma and my choice of action instigated it. He was no longer with me at that moment.
I am learning to listen more, speak less, and remain consistent because of that experience. That young man is a valuable teacher for me. I see it now. Hard part is, I am not as confident Jean has the emotional education to internalize our experience together in a self empowering way. His memory may be infused with my face yelling at him for once again not doing something right. I, to him, may be the same as everyone else. I went from a loving, nurturing, caregiver, to another tyrant with high expectations, and an unpredictable attitude. I likely became the villain in his story. He didn’t confide in me again after that. No blame, only truth. I have learned. I love him today from afar.
Children are innocent. I understand ego conditioning. I understand and had great compassion for them even though they tended to lie for attention, or sneak into things they weren’t supposed to. What kid doesn’t, really? Both children were also showing signs of stunted emotional awareness. I was highly focused on being someone who could help them understand in this way. I may only have a Masters degree in metaphysics from a non-reputable, non-Canadian institution. I also have a hell of a lot of personal experience when it comes to emotionally stunted parents. I used this knowledge in a language the children could understand to the best of my ability.
I also felt bad for Rosie’s daughter Alyssa. She was struggling in school. Her beautiful mind is made for incredibly creative and highly insightful thinking. She also loved to entertain, and often pushed herself past her fears. She was bold, sometimes a bit flighty, and extremely witty. You could count on her to make you laugh some way or another. She was also the more mischievous of the two kids. She could be sneaky. Her and her brother were the best of friends and the worst of enemies all in the same day sometimes. They were awesome little people with a lot of trauma to work through within a sea of faces. All giving mixed messages of pain, disappointment, criticisms, and uncertainty, with a dash of “I love you”, and, “trust me”, tossed in between.
I don’t know if all of what I have written about Rosie’s children is still true today. The kids are twelve and thirteen as of late. I haven’t seen nor spoken with them since the day before I left for the final time, in August, 2024. Today, as I sit here on a mattress on concrete, it is November, 2025. What I do know is, Alyssa sadly developed an insecurity around her intelligence because of her struggles in school, school bullying, and her father’s high expectations of her to have good grades. I pray today she sees how incredibly intelligent and truly insightful she is. She simply has her own creative form of expression.
Rosie had built a reputation of being an excellent father. He often felt like his reputation was at stake. He was strict when it came to his children’s education. I noticed his children’s performance at school either embarrassed him or made him proud. He was also either one or the other, proud or embarrassed, in all aspects of their choices. He would often address his children as if they were to know better. I am not certain how he could expect his children to have emotional and mental maturity when they were not being taught on a consistent loving basis to be aware in the first place. I did my best to remind Rosie of this. It was a struggle sometimes for him to remember. The kids understood the subliminal conditioning message though, which was, “you are an embarrassment, and stupid for not knowing better”. Even if they didn’t have the mature vocabulary to explain it.
Whilst I was living with Rosie the first time, between July 2021 and March 2023, he was going through a nasty custody battle. His ex partner had a horrible temper. It was difficult for her to hear or read the word no. She also had a rather relaxed approach to parenting. Paying little attention to the children’s physical safety and education. Education such as scholastic education, emotional education, and mental distress education. As well as how to regulate all these facets of life whilst being in challenging situations.
Gemma, the mother of the children, tended to pay closer attention when the authorities were involved or asking questions. With that, I do know she had the maturity to be attentive to her children’s needs. Which means, she actively chose to be less involved in her children’s overall well-being when the authorities were not involved. She was often focused on being in competition with Rosie. Rosie was too busy by remaining focused on many people. Including being in competition with Gemma. It was for this reason I had a difficult time seeing Gemma’s point of view. It was also for this reason I saw Rosie as more of a victim, rather than an equal perpetrator in their children’s trauma. Which was in fact the case. That’s the way I have come to see it today. It also didn’t help that Gemma had pure hatred towards me. Understandably so. I was the mistress in her eyes afterall.
Rosie liked that I didn’t like Gemma. I had very little tolerance for Gemma’s choice in behavior. Today when I look back, I can remember the little smirk Rosie would often make when I was defending him or talking to him about how manipulative Gemma could be. It wasn’t a full on smile. It was one of those smug little bursts of glee seeping out one side of his face. Back then I thought it was cute. Today I recognize that smirk to be a sign of a strategic, in-it-for-myself, thinker. It’s contempt. That sideswiped smile is not cute in the least.
Because I had such a strong distaste in my mouth when it came to Rosie’s ex, I rigorously helped Rosie with a custody battle for him to win full custody of both his children. I ignored Gemma’s truthful warnings of Rosie’s true character. It’s a challenge to listen to any form of aggression without a slight closed mind. I didn’t see Gemma’s truthfulness. I only saw her aggression. My goal was to help Rosie and his children win peace in their lives.
I don’t know if Rosie ever finally did win full custody of both of his children. He could be still fighting with the courts, family services, and his ex today for all I know. Intuitively speaking, I strongly feel he is still fighting in some way. Rosie attracted a great deal of chaos. It’s a difficult habit to break. Especially when you are unaware of it. Rosie was most certainly unaware, as was I.
Rosie had to prepare evidence of his ex’s unstable behavior. He had to provide details on disruptive child exchanges between himself and Gemma. He was advised to provide proof of educational distress in the children, and a slu of other concerning proofs. Rosie didn’t have time for all that. He was too busy working for the military, defending himself in a discrimination lawsuit with a large fast food chain, and hooking up with different women on the weekends. He also required time during the week to be able to swoon his weekend ladies too. Rosie was definitely a creative, solution orientated thinker. I of course didn’t know that at the time, so I offered to help him with his family ordeal.
Most of the official correspondence between Rosie and outside professional entities were in english. That made things much easier for me to write on his behalf without anyone being any the wiser. No one came out and asked me if I wrote the answers to document questions, or if I was the one who comprised the written email correspondence on Rosie’s behalf. This was perfect for Rosie. Rosie never bothered to give me credit. Rosie gave me credit when he didn’t have much choice but to tell someone I wrote what they were reading. We were both lying to Gemma and the authoritative representatives by omission.
Over the course of seven years, I wrote most of Rosie’s correspondence to his family lawyer, his lawsuit lawyer, his employer in another discrimination issue within the military, several family services representatives, and edited some of his other business affairs as well. He kept me busy helping him solve his own drama for almost ten years. He had a lot of it. It kept my heartstrings pulled in tightly. I felt Rosie’s pain, not Rosie’s manipulation.
I thought about all the work I did for him over the five days leading up to leaving Rosie and his kids in 2023. I also had to maintain my inner strength and refrain from my natural response to help the children understand what was going on. I remained quiet about my departure both in 2023, and 2024, as per Rosie’s insinuated instruction.
Rosie set me up beautifully to be the bad guy who broke his children’s hearts, twice. The first time in 2023 was the set up. The second, and last time in 2024 was, “see kids, I even texted her. I am so sorry she didn’t say goodbye, again. She was heartless for leaving you the way she did. I am a victim in all this too!”. My intuition today tells me this is, perhaps not verbatim, what he likely said to his kids and mother after I left both times. Rosie fought hard for his reputation. I knew what he was doing. I let him. They are his family. I am okay with being the villain in their eyes. Rosie’s children had enough pain to deal with when it came to their family.
The other thing that was playing on repeat in my mind over the course of those few days was Rosie’s hidden anger towards me. His energy really did scare me on more than one occasion. The scariest time was back in 2017. He barged his way into my daughter’s apartment, demanding to see me. He was drunk off his rocker and had driven forty-five minutes on a New Brunswick highway to find me.
Whilst driving drunk, Rosie made his way through the small city streets of Fredericton to my front door. Sometime before midnight. He decided to risk his life, and the lives of all he would have come into contact with, because he knew I was on an extended date with someone, after he broke it off with me. He didn’t like it, and demanded that my daughter get a hold of me so that I would come home to be with him. What a night that was.
LivWithClairity 
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