(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Mature subject matter. Reader discretion is advised. 18+)
In 2023 I lived with a man who I had nicknamed Rosie. Rosie was supposed to be my forever person. We lived near or on the outskirts of Montreal, in the province of Quebec, in Canada. Rosie is Canadian with haitian culture and heritage. Haitian-Canadian I believe his nationality would be referred to as? Rosie was born in 1978, in Montreal, Canada. Rosie is Canadian more so than I am.
I was born in England. I had immigrated to Canada with my family when I was two and a half years old. I guess I would be English-Canadian?
In all honesty, it’s all the same to me.
Rosie and I were in a cute two bedroom apartment with his two children who were eleven and twelve at the time. I loved that man, or at least I thought I did. I didn’t know when I met him that he had chosen to lie on his dating profile. I was under the impression that Rosie worked in finance in some capacity and lived in Fredericton, New Brunswick. Where I lived. It wasn’t until our first initial date in person on October 24, 2014, when Rosie corrected his purposeful and misleading information. Before Rosie had formerly told me the truth in his profession, we chatted on the dating app.
The app was a “fishy” kind of dating app, for sure. There were many unhealthy minded people swimming in that pool.
Rosie and I had shared our day’s events, and did a little flirting on the app. Rosie had decided to wait to clarify his status until our first in-person date and only after I had asked him to elaborate on his career.
Rosie was a sergeant in the Canadian Armed Forces. He lived near the military base in Oromocto and dabbled in some form of investments. Rosie’s residential location wasn’t a bother so much. I too had a car back then. I could drive to see him if need be. What took me back for a moment was his profession. Had Rosie written on his dating profile that he was a soldier in the military, I would not have entertained him. Reason being, when I was around nine or ten years old, I told a friend that I would never date, nor would I marry a man younger than me, who worked in the military. At that time, I had no real reason for saying that. Today, I sure do know the reason for saying that.
Rosie is both a soldier and he is younger than me by a little over four years. I had already known back when I was a child that I was going to meet someone who would break me some day. I knew I was going to have to rebuild myself too. I was unaware of exactly what I knew in 1983. I was young and didn’t fully understand how I read energy nor did I fully understand how I knew things. I didn’t know that I could read energy. I was, and still am in many ways, ignorant to all the vastness of creation. I wouldn’t want to know everything. That would be bloody boring.
I wasn’t inquisitive about my place in the world until I was beaten up enough to begin to question my existence. That came shortly before or shortly after meeting the ‘Necklace man’. All I knew was all things military made me extremely uncomfortable.
The message of a future and deceitful soldier that I had received in my younger years had come to haunt me thirty years later. Who knew? I guess my intuition knew. When I had learned of Rosie’s profession, I was uncomfortable. A quick flashback of me as that little girl who proclaimed, “no” to a soldier as a potential suitor for myself snuck into my mind. I chose to ignore my discomfort. I chose to ignore my own inner child.
I must also take accountability as well. Rosie may have been secretive and misleading. I also didn’t ask him many questions about his professional nor much about his private life on that first date. I chose to place his discrepancy aside. Our conversation was based more around what we like to do, what we want in a partner, and the food we were eating in the pub. I was also intrigued. I was drawn in by a familiar knowing within me that there was going to be more to us than a couple of simple dates. It was an internal pull which aided in my ability to ignore the true character of Rosie.
Looking back now, I made it incredibly easy for Rosie to hide his true self. I didn’t pry so he didn’t have to lie. On one occasion back when I first met him, I did pry. It was another date a few weeks later at the same location. When we left the pub, we were in his parked car for a moment smoking a cigarette. I had a vision in my mind of Rosie wearing a gold wedding band. I asked if he was married by posing the question like this, “I am seeing you with a wedding ring on your finger inside my head. Are you married?”
We had sex by then so it was extremely important for me to know. It’s a moral thing. I had to ask.
Rosie had already been made familiar that I have a beautiful habit of knowing beforehand and without people telling me. It may take me a bit of time to solve the mixed up puzzle pieces inside my head with all the symbolisms. I decode them. I often do end up putting all the pieces together, in time. Truth always comes out in my world. All I have to do is be open to receive it. If the truth comes with pain, then pain it is. Truth always triumphs in the end. I only accept the truth.
Rosie’s response to me was “I was engaged once. It didn’t work out.”
My response to Rosie was, “oh, okay. It could be that?, or, you are likely to be married some day in the future.”
I left it like that. Rosie likely took an internal sigh of relief because he was engaged to be married when I had asked him that question. He was hiding that fact. I ignored the ugly truth and replaced it with a fantasy of true love. I chose Rosie’s words of his supposed truth. Today, halve truths are unacceptable. The entire truth triumphs in my world, always. Vibe before any presentation. Lesson most certainly learned.
When a person lies, they are showing you the truth about their true character. The truth is always available when you are willing to see it. The truth is in the vibe. I wasn’t willing to see it back then. I wanted to be seen and to be loved. I had set myself up beautifully for heartbreak.
Today, one of the questions I plan to ask on a first date is “what have you come to learn about yourself from being in your previous relationships?”
The answer to that question would tell me all I would need to know about his character. Posing that question saves a hell of a lot of valuable energy and time. You may be wise to pose that question to anyone you plan on investing in. It makes no difference in what area of life. The question, “what have they learned?”, is a far better question to ask, over, “what have you done?”
Formal education may open a door to let you in. It is your intelligence which keeps you there. Your intellect is vital, so is your emotional intelligence. One can be learned in a book. The other is learned through a compassionate life. Combine both within yourself. Look for both qualities within another person. Choose to approach your potential friend, lover, and or, business partners, with this awareness in mind. You tend to choose winners in life when you do approach them this way, be it the boardroom or be it in the bedroom. It is best to assess someone’s ability to remain both intellectually aware and emotionally aware.
Here are a few questions you may want to consider asking when you are selecting a quality person into your life.
Who are you if you were to have nothing to show? In what way could you interact with others and relate to others? What ways do you go about processing stressful situations? How do you problem solve? In regards to what you have come to learn about yourself, what qualities have you incorporate into your life moving forward?
Care less about what a person has done in their past. Care more about what they have come to learn today. Today’s version affects you tomorrow. Regardless if it is business or pleasure.
I didn’t like the idea of being on a dating site after divorcing from my second husband, Bill. Let alone, meet a liar right out of the starting gate. Yet, I did. Everything in my body told me to stay away from dating sites. Desperation had trumped my intelligence at the time.
I met a few men on that dating site before meeting Rosie, as well as a couple of short lived conversations and light dating with a couple of others after I had first met him. Rosie was different. I knew from the first time I had met him in 2014 at the local pub that there was more to us than a simple meet and greet. His energy seemed extremely familiar to me. It was as if I knew him. I had fallen for Rosie fast and hard, even though I didn’t, and still don’t truly know him, eleven years later.
My world came crashing down when I found a box of condoms in his storage unit one lonely afternoon. Almost nine years after our first date in 2014. We had been living together on the south shore of Montreal for a little over a year at that point. I moved from New Brunswick to Quebec to see a Neurologist for muscle spasms and cramps I kept on getting. The specialist was in Montreal. Moving in with Rosie had made going to the appointments much easier. With that in mind, Rosie had agreed to move me into his place.
I hadn’t realized at the time that Rosie had other intentions than mine when it came to me moving in with him. I thought it was more than just doctor appointments. I had initially intended on building a loving family with him. Rosie had intended to have me there to make his life easier and to look good by being hospitable to an invalid.
Rosie was at work when I had come across his box of color me pretty condoms. I was in the midst of organizing his apartment and had taken some items down three flights of stairs to his storage unit. Out of site out of mind sort of thing. I had crammed a few things as best I could in there already. I was in the process of bringing the last few items downstairs. I opened the door to his unit. I then reached up on top of the shelf to put something on it. It was at that moment when the box of condoms came crashing to the floor at my feet. A couple of the condoms had fallen out of the box. It had been opened.
This heart wrenching moment felt like a divine intervention to be honest. The timing was impeccable. There were many intuitive breadcrumbs that I had been given from my spirit team which had led me to this moment. The condoms were the final divine timing for the proof to appear.
My divine team help me have a voice. Proof keeps my loving and stern voice firmly in place.
I’ve experienced a number of divine interventions in my life. Two particular times come to mind. One was when I was nine years old. I was swiftly guided by a voice in spirit to safely get out of a horrendous situation with a pedophile. Whilst I was in the hands of this man, who was about to penetrate me from behind, I heard a loving, stern woman’s voice say “you must get out of here dear.” No sooner did I hear that voice, the man let go of me for a split second. Giving me just enough time to break free from him, hop on my bike, and bolt out of there.
The voice, which sounds a lot like me today, had saved me. Not necessarily from traumatic pain. It was from potentially losing my virginity in a most gruesome way, or worse, my life. I hadn’t told anyone about this experience until much later, when my daughters became mature enough to understand. I suspect writing details here helps me come to a full acceptance. I did write a little about this previously in a book that was published and that I had written back in 2009. With that said, this is the nit and gritty of it in its entirety.
A tall slender man approached my brother and I. We were walking home from the local mall together. Just the two of us. I was nine and my brother was eleven.
“Hey there. Can you guys help me? I am trying to find the indoor tennis courts. My daughter lost her bracelet and necklace there. I need to find them. She is devastated. You’d be her hero. I can pay you five dollars each for helping me?”.
My brother said “I don’t know. We’d have to ask our mum first.”
Me being someone who had to prove I am worthy of being proud of, said, “I can help.” Being a hero to another little girl really got my ego excited.
Craig interjected again and said, “we gotta go home and ask.”
The man then said, “I can wait for you. How about you go ask your mom. If your mom says yes, meet me in the school playground”.
Necklace Man looked over to his right and motioned his head towards my school, Christie Public Elementary School. That made me think of all the bullying I was getting at that school.
I was bullied everyday of my school years from grade four right up to and including grade ten. I would be ganged up on, beaten, have my pants pulled down, and my face smashed into a school bus window. All before the end of grade seven. In highschool I was teased for being a sexual assault victim and for my looks. I was a tall, full figured teenager, with the look of a grown and highly sexualized adult woman. I was overly sexualized a lot. I have a bit of a difficult time with this today to be honest. I am not fond of bars nor club scenes. I dislike unwelcomed sexual attention. I prefer one man. That man is my Christy.
The thought of those school bullies was enough for me to reinforce that I had to prove myself. Craig and I had agreed to meet up with ‘Necklace man’ if our mum said yes. We then proceeded on our walk home.
During mine and my brother’s ten to fifteen minutes walk home, I asked my brother if he was going to help. He said no. He wasn’t interested. Today as I look back now, I know my brother’s intuition was talking loud and clear. His intuition was telling him that the man was a predator. Mine on the other hand was clouded at best. Once my ego took over, spiritual morality and truth went out the window.
Once Craig and I arrived home, I asked my mother if I could help the ‘Necklace man’. My mum was busy cooking super. When my mum cooked dinner, she cooked meals which often required her full attention. I knew that, so asking her when she was distracted was the plan that I had come up with whilst I was walking home with my brother. I figured I had more of an eighty percent chance of it being a distracted yes. Even a nine year old can be manipulative to get what they want. I was no exception.
“Yes you can go. Provided it is within our housing area and with other people”.
I lied and said, “yes mum, it is.”
“Be back in an hour. Dinner will be ready” was the words coming out of my mother’s mouth as I had my second foot already out the front door.
“Okay mum!” I replied, in a quick dismissive manner. I then closed the door behind me without a second thought.
I hopped on my bike and then headed for the school. Whilst riding my bike, I wasn’t paying attention to the ever growing knot in my stomach. I was focused on being a proverbial hero. As well as a five dollar promise. Five dollars was a lot of money for a nine year old in 1983. I had big plans with that money.
When I arrived at the school, ‘Necklace man’ was sitting on the play structure. When he saw me, he stood up, smiled, and said “ah you came. Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure if you would make it. Where’s your brother?”.
“He didn’t want to come. I’m sorry.” I responded to him in a respectful manner.
I was usually respectful with other people. I could be disrespectful towards my mother and my brother, as well as my not so friendly school teachers. With them, I talked back when I truly saw them in the wrong. Disrespect me without warrant and you would get a mirrored response back, no doubt. Today is no different. I stand on principles.
The stranger and I had walked through the woods on the trail behind my school. We were isolated and headed towards the indoor tennis courts. Whilst we walked, this perfect stranger explained to me that he had to get back to his young daughter. It was her birthday. He was out without her because he had bought her a gift and didn’t want her with him when he had bought it. The man lifted up a shopping bag in front of me. There had looked to be an article of clothing in it. It made sense to me. Seeing the shopping bag with something in it answered my question as to where his daughter was. I had wondered where she was in the back of my mind. I didn’t want to ask him where his daughter was because I didn’t want to be rude. I didn’t talk as much to people I didn’t know that well. I was shy more than outgoing. This predator was gauging my naivety.
When we reached the tennis courts the stranger escorted me around to the back of the building. In the back there was a large grassy area with a tall embankment full of trees that lead up to the highway, quite a ways up from where we were. The cars driving past on the highway would not have been able to see us. The building we were at had been closed for the day. There was no one in sight. I was an innocent sitting duck not knowing my feathers were about to be plucked.
As soon as I became aware of the indoor tennis courts’ closure, a flutter had appeared inside my stomach, to which I ignored. Being with that man had started to feel off. I think ‘Necklace man’ could see it on my face because no sooner did I feel that new sensation in my belly, he anxiously said, “Oh, I do hope we can find them. Her birthday will be ruined if I can’t find them. How about you look over there. I’ll stay over here and look?” He motioned his head in two directions.
I said, “okay”, with a smile. I then made my way over to the middle area at the back of the building. ‘Necklace man’ had stayed at the building’s edge, in the open grassed area. Where we had first turned the corner to come around to the back of the large building. ‘Necklace man’ had kept a lookout for any potential witnesses.
After about five minutes or so, with my head down scanning the grass, and us talking about some sports, the man shouted over to me.
“I found the necklace!” He held it up high with a proud grin.
I was happy for him and also bummed at the same time. I wanted to be the hero. I was even more determined to find the bracelet.
About another two minutes or so went by. Again, ‘Necklace man’ proclaimed, “there’s the bracelet!”.
The strange man then bent down and picked something up from off of the ground. Yep, it was a bracelet. He got to find both. I felt defeated. I walked over to ‘Necklace man’ and explained how happy I was that he found them and that his daughter would have a wonderful birthday afterall. Inside my mind I thought, “so much for being a hero”.
‘Necklace Man’ had another request for my services.
“Speaking of my daughter’s birthday, I don’t suppose you would be willing to try on this skirt for me, would you? I had bought it for my daughter. I’m not sure if it will fit her. You and her look to be about the same size. It would help me to know if I have to take it back to exchange it for a different size. Please help me?”
I was definitely uncomfortable with that idea for two reasons. My tummy was talking, and I was a tomboy back then. I didn’t like to wear skirts. I gave a look of uncertainty. ‘Necklace man’ upped his ante.
“I can give you an extra five dollars. I was going to give it to your brother anyways. Since he’s not here, you could have it. You can change over there in the tall grass”.
‘Necklace man’ then pointed his finger straight behind me to point out a relatively private spot to change. “I will look away to give you privacy”, he reassured.
I hummed and hawed for a second or two, which made him say “please. It would really help me out a lot.”
He knew what he was doing. ‘Necklace man’ was pulling at my heartstrings.
“Okay. I guess I could.”
With that, I accepted the skirt from his hand and made my way over to the overgrown lawn.
Everything inside me said not to do it. I did it anyways. Ten whole dollars was hard to pass up. Whilst I was changing, I kept my eye on ‘Necklace man’ to make certain he wouldn’t turn around. He didn’t. When I had the skirt on, I told him I had the skirt on and that he could turn around.
“Okay, you can look now”.
The skirt fit me perfectly. You’d almost think it was planned. I still didn’t care for the skirt but that wasn’t for me to say.
“Oh that is a perfect fit. Excellent. She’s going to love it!” He said with excitement.
“Great. Can I change back now?” was what I said next in a monotonous tone, and all I wanted to do. I was scared by this point.
The man looked at me wide eyed and said “wanna play a game first? I can see you like sports with that baseball hat your wearing. It’s fun. You’ll like it.”
My nerves were really starting to talk now. “I really should be going home. My dinner will be ready soon.”
“Didn’t you say you had an hour? It’s only been about thirty minutes. You’ve got lots of time with having a bike to ride. Don’t worry”, was his rebuttal.
I responded with “what’s the game?”.
“It’s called Yoga”, he said. “Here, let me show you. Stand here”.
‘Necklace Man’ proceeded to grab my shoulders and turned me to face away from him. He directed me to go down on my hands and knees and pushed my shoulders down firmly to encourage me to do so. I had followed his instructions with sincere trepidation. ‘Necklace man’ then explained part of the game requires flexibility. As ‘Necklace man’ explained what he meant, he spread my legs apart, parted my panties, and then forcibly touched my vagina. It hurt me. In that same moment, I heard a woman’s voice say “you must get out of here dear”.
When the man touched my vagina, my mind brought me back to when I was a toddler. It was like going through a time portal. One minute I felt my panties snap, and the next, I was back to being three or four years old. Laying partially naked on top of a teenager’s lap. This particular teenager had done something similar to me back then when he was babysitting me as well. I think the teenage boy was around seventeen at the time? He didn’t physically hurt me per say. He traumatized my baby mind nonetheless.
‘Necklace Man’ had me from behind. He let go of me with one hand for a moment so that he could unzip his pants. He was in the midst of pulling out his “appendage” when I turned my head around to see him. It was my opportunity to kick him, rush to my bike, hop on, and ride away like a bat out of hell. My innocence was taken. One of my little sparks fizzled out. I left a part of me behind that day. That loving little girl has been living in the shadows ever since.
I ignored the little droplets of blood running down one of my legs. I was in shock. I didn’t tell anyone about that experience. When I got home, I ran quickly upstairs, changed, and got rid of the skirt. Then I was back downstairs to dinner on time. I acted normal, in a foul mood.
My parents didn’t ask me any questions. I didn’t offer any information. No one in fact has known this much detail until now. This is the first time I am giving this much detail to anyone, as far as I know. As it stands right now, you reading this, know more than my own family had ever come to know.
I think I am going to close out this entry here. Shadow work is heavy business. This particular heavy business ruled my life for over forty years. The second magical divine intervention is written in the next blog entry. Until then, thank you kindly for reading my life with me. I am healing with each word that is written, with each word read, and with each word spoken. Thank you for being a part of this with me. You help more than you may realize.
I pray my journey helps you uncover some missing pieces in your own life as well?
Much love to you, always ❤️
LivWithClairity 
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