(Disclaimer: some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Mature subject matter. Reader discretion is advised. 18+)
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 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 or third 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.
I had found it confusing that Rosie’s mother didn’t like me. Rosie told me he had confessed to all his wrong doings to his mother and children. It was for that reason alone that I had agreed to reconcile. If Rosie were to admit to his deceitful ways then he would be on a clean slate to rebuild with me. I was under the impression Rosie’s mum knew of Rosie’s several secret affairs. He lied. I know that today. Back then, I just figured Rosie’s mum had placed me in a competitive game of who is important to her son, to which I didn’t sign up for. I found Rosie’s mum to be somewhat insecure about her position in the family for some reason. This beautiful and tormented soul was very determined to assert her rank. All I wanted was to fit in and to build a life with them.
Today, I know Rosie’s mum was unaware of all of Rosie’s wrong doings when it came to me. She only knew that I had left after a miscommunication with her back in 2020, and that I had came back. Perhaps with a sprinkle of truth on Rosie’s part? He did paint himself the victim often so whatever truth Rosie had given 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 was because of what happened to me then”, or, “look what they are doing to me!”. It doesn’t make sense for Rosie to confess he was being a villainous person to me. It does make sense for him to paint himself as a victim in any way, shape, or form. It wouldn’t matter if he was up against Jesus himself. If Rosie was backed up into a corner, you could just about guarantee that theatrics would take center stage. Your heart would be dancing to his puppet master strings let me tell ya.
“Giddy up little girl. I need you to fix this situation for me. I am being treated badly because I am black!” “She is my mom. What do you want me to do? It’s not fair. Can’t you just accept her horrid behavior?”
Rosie didn’t say those words verbatim. He certainly did give that message regularly though.
It was an extreme challenge to live with a man and his mom. Especially when his mom had spoken no english, I knew a little french, and neither of us were living the truth. Rosie’s mother and I were unwilling to see the truth in the character of Rosie. We were all told lies by him. Purposefully omitting factual information is lying by omission in my reality. With that, the energy in the home was unwelcomed and strained.
The day of Jean’s vacant eyes that I had mentioned in the previous post, was particularly challenging. He had gotten into some trouble at school. He was aggressive towards another student. I had confronted him about it. Jean was extremely disrespectful to me. I went off.
I have a red button for lying. When it comes to blatant disrespect and lying, you no longer see my halo. You see my little devil’s tail awfully quick. I tend to have a challenge with the maintenance of my ego when I am addressed this way. Doesn’t matter who the person is or what position they hold. If you are morally sick, I leave as though I was addressed by the plague itself. That’s after I make it known that I am aware of their true intentions.
I am someone people either love, hate, love to hate, or hate to love. I am polarizing. I am a kind person. I am not a nice person; not anymore anyway. I point shit out to help people not to hurt people. I am okay with being hurt if it means the truth comes out. I am that person.
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 have learned to listen more, speak less, as well as remain consistent with my approach because of this experience with Jean. That young man is a valuable teacher for me. I see it now. The hard part is, I am less confident that Jean has the emotional internalization to heal from our experience. Self empowerment oftentimes takes years, if not lifetimes to master. People don’t typically have the ability to learn about themselves without guidance of some kind. I had to learn with Clairity’s help. I didn’t do it entirely alone.
You meet Clairity later in this writing.
Jean’s memory may be infused with my face yelling at him for not doing something right, once again. I, to him, may be the same as everyone else. I went from a loving and nurturing caregiver, to another tyrant with high expectations, and an unpredictable temperament. I likely became the villain in his story. Jean didn’t confide in me again after that. No blame. No shame. Only the truth. I have learned. I love Jean today from afar. He was my teacher.
Children are innocent. I most certainly do understand ego conditioning. I had compassion for Rosie’s children, even though they tended to lie for attention, or sneak into things they weren’t supposed to. What kid doesn’t, really? Isn’t that what exploration is all about?
Both of Rosie’s children had also showed signs of stunted emotional awareness. I was 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 felt bad for Rosie’s daughter Alyssa too. She was struggling in school. Her beautiful mind is made for incredibly creative and highly insightful thinking over standard academia. She also loved to entertain and often pushed herself past her fears. Alyssa 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 most mischievous of the two kids. Alyssa could be sneaky.
Alyssa and Jean were the best of friends and the worst of enemies all in the same day sometimes. They are awesome little people with a lot of trauma to work through within a sea of faces. All giving mixed messages of disappointment, criticisms, uncertainty, and emotional and mental anguish, 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 had developed an insecurity around her intellect because of her struggles in school, school bullying, and her father’s high expectations for good grades. I pray today that Alyssa sees how incredibly intelligent and truly insightful she is. She simply has her own creative form of expression, as do you and I. Children are no different than us “grown” adults.
Rosie had built a reputation of being an excellent father. He often felt like his reputation was at stake. Everyone was watching him, sort of deal. Rosie was often paranoid. He was also strict when it came to his children’s education. I had noticed both of his children’s performance at school either embarrassed him or made him proud. Rosie had voiced his harsh judgement with his kids regularly when they were in school. He was often proud or embarrassed, in all aspects of their choices. Rosie wasn’t a kind nurturer who explained things to his kids. Rosie would often address his children as if they were to know better and without significant guidance. I was usually the one to smooth things over. The kids would come speak with me in private. Jean was the one who confided in me in the beginning. Alyssa was the one who had confided in me in the end.
I am not certain how Rosie 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 children had 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, nor courage to explain it. Many words can give you the same message. That’s what a healthy or unhealthy life cycle is. It’s another form of expression giving you the same results.
Whilst I was living with Rosie the first time, between July 2021 and March 2023, Rosie was going through a nasty custody battle. His ex partner Gemma 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. She had paid little attention to her children’s physical safety and education. Education such as scholastic education, emotional aptitude, and mental distress education. As well as how to regulate all these facets of life whilst being in challenging situations.
Gemma, the mother of Jean and Alyssa, had tended to pay closer attention when the authorities were involved or asking questions. With that, I know Gemma had capability and intellect to be attentive towards her children, which means, she had chosen to be less involved in her children’s overall well-being when the authorities were not looking.
Gemma was often focused on being in a competition with Rosie. Rosie was too busy by remaining focused on many people, including being in competition with Gemma. It was for this reason that 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. Rosie was an equal perpetrator in their children’s trauma. I didn’t see it that way initially. It also didn’t help that Gemma had pure hatred when it came to me. Understandably so. I was the mistress in her eyes after all. I don’t blame her. She could have definitely done things differently. I still can’t blame her. Gemma was in a lot of psychological pain.
Rosie liked that I also 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 had talked 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 a smirk to be a sign of strategy. In-it-for-myself kind of 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 his custody battle 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, not realizing I was being an advocate for mental and emotional abuse. I was sending the kids into a wolf’s den.
Hindsight is both painful and beautiful. It all depends on how you choose to look at it. I myself am humbled by this experience with Gemma to be honest.
I don’t know if Rosie ever did finally 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 unaware of it. Rosie was most certainly unaware, as was I at the time.
Rosie had to prepare evidence of his ex’s unstable behavior. He had to provide details on disruptive child exchanges between himself and Gemma. Rosie 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 Canadian military, defending himself in a discrimination lawsuit with a large fast food chain, and hooking up with all sorts of different women on the weekends. Rosie had also required time during the week to swoon his weekend ladies too.
Rosie was definitely highly creative in his solutions. He could think his way through any bull shyte he was involved in. If he couldn’t, he called upon me to get him out of his mess. I of course didn’t know that at the time, so I offered to help Rosie with his compliance with family services and in the courtroom.
Most 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 answers to document questions or if I was the one who comprised.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 other than to tell someone I wrote what they were reading. We were both lying to Gemma and to the authoritative representatives by omission. I can accept this level of accountability.
Over the course of seven years, I had written most of Rosie’s correspondence to his family lawyer, his lawsuit lawyer, his employer in yet another discrimination case within the Canadian military, family services representatives, and I had edited some of Rosie’s other business affairs as well. Rosie 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 the final one in 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 a 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 of all this too!”.
My intuition today tells me this is, perhaps not verbatim, what Rosie had likely said to his kids and mother after I had 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 played 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, Liv’s apartment, demanding to see me. He was drunk off his rocker and had driven at least twenty-five minutes on a New Brunswick highway to find me.
Rosie had decided to drive completely shit faced through city streets in Fredericton to arrive at my front door at approximately midnight. He decided to risk his life, and the lives of all he would have come into contact with, because he had known that I was on an extended date with someone, after he broke it off with me. Rosie didn’t like it. He had demanded that my daughter get a hold of me so that I would come home to be with him.
What a night that was! It was hell on wheels! Quite literally hell on wheels.
LivWithClairity 
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