(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)
My birthday is an extremely big deal for me. Reason being, my little girl’s ego has felt rejected each year around my birthday. Growing up, my mum and I would be fighting about something ungrateful I was doing. “If you don’t like our rules, get out”, was a yearly message I would receive.
The first time my mother kicked me out I was ten years old. It was only a few weeks after meeting the necklace man. Well, I guess she didn’t technically kick me out. I was given the choice. I heard things like, “you little bitch. Take it out and drown it. Cry more, you’ll pee less. Don’t bring your problems into this house. Stay out of my sight”.
My mother gave me those messages often enough for me to take on a mindset that her rules were hard for me to follow. I had little to no respect for my mother. I didn’t admire her parenting style in the least. I had a challenge keeping quiet about that fact as well.
I have always been someone who stands up for herself. It makes no difference to me when it comes to who I must stand against. The challenge growing up was, I lacked diplomacy with my words. I also tended to speak before thinking. Lesson most definitely learned.
My mum wasn’t the only person who affected me adversely around my birthday. After moving in with Albert, my first husband, I relinquished my rights to parenthood on mine and his birthday at his pressured request. I had an abortion on my twentieth birthday. I took a life on the day I was granted life. It is for this reason, and for the longest time, I didn’t feel worthy of a birthday. It is for this reason I quietly cried each year and told my children to acknowledge my birthday the day before or the day after, not on May 18th, specifically.
It was Clairity who had reminded me that I was only punishing myself, and that I do in fact have the right to celebrate my year of accomplishments. With her encouragement, I decided to honor my birthday each year. Starting with my forty-eighth birthday year.
As the days were moving closer to my big five-oh day, I thought about the previous Christmas, Valentine’s day, and Mother’s day. For Christmas Rosie and his family went to his cousin’s place for a Christmas eve party. I chose not to go because another one of my teeth at the front of my mouth broke in half just days before. I was embarrassed and didn’t want anyone to see my broken teeth. My mouth was also very sore. Rosie seemed to have understood my discomfort.
With that, I spent Christmas eve alone. Rosie and his family arrived home around three o’clock in the morning. For New Year’s Eve 2023, we all sat in the living room and watched the countdown. We all hugged each other. Rosie kissed me for the, perhaps, tenth time in our relationship. Then we all went to bed to sleep. Good times.
On February 14, 2024, Valentine’s Day, Rosie bought both his mum and I some chocolates and flowers. The difference in the gifts was the color of the flowers.
Rosie and I were in Costco with his kids. Whilst there we came across a fridge cooler with bouquets of flowers. Rosie opened the door, chose a bouquet and then said, “pick one”, to me. I responded with, “oh no. That’s okay”.
The kids looked at me and both encouraged me. “Pick some Clair. What color do you like?”, Alyssa asked.
I couldn’t say no to them so I smiled then chose a different color bouquet than the ones Rosie picked for his mother.
As I was admiring the beautiful flowers I was holding, I was also thinking, “thank you for the effort Rosie. Your lack of sentiment has been dually noted”.
I didn’t have to rely on Clairity’s insight to see that one. Rosie’s ego was coming closer and closer to the surface. Even his surface level efforts were starting to wane.
Then mother’s day came. For mother’s day Rosie took us to the same buffet as the one we went to with my children. In this instance, it was beautiful that I was included in his mother’s special day. I was not Rosie’s mother, nor his children’s mother. It was not a day meant for me, yet they acknowledged me anyway. Rosie’s mum was gentle about it as well.
With my birthday approaching in a couple of days, I was secretly hoping Rosie would have thought to do something special for me. No such luck.
“What do you want for your birthday?”, Rosie inquired.
I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t really thinking of anything in particular. Except perhaps a bit of money towards promoting one of my TikTok videos.
I had to ask Rosie for money. Sometimes he would just give me some. I had usually spent the cash money he gave me on feminine hygiene products and treats for his kids. TikTok required online transactions so I had to ask Rosie. Rosie chose the ad campaign and price. He did that for me twice with a price range of about fifty Canadian dollars.
“You need a phone. I can put you on our family plan. Let’s go see if we can find a decent one for you”, Rosie suggested.
I thought, “wow, a new phone, cool”. I was using a phone that was starting to act wonky. With that, Rosie took me into Montreal to go shopping.
Please excuse my techie ignorance when I explain this part of the story to you.
Rosie took me to a store that sells factory defects models. There may have been new ones in the store as well. If there were, they were on display. Rosie inquired about the factory defective models they kept in the back room. There were two models I was welcome to choose from. I chose the phone with a broken pixel closest to the bottom of the screen. It was easier to ignore that way. After three weeks of having that phone, it went black screen. Rosie replaced it with another small pixel problem phone from the same place. That phone lasted about six weeks. My daughter Liv bought me a new phone to replace that one, right before I left Rosie permanently. I am still using the phone Liv bought me to this day.
I was triggered when Rosie was buying that phone for me. The experience brought me back to our separation days in 2023. Liv was helping me set up a New Brunswick phone number on the second hand phone Rosie had given me. When Liv and I went to Telus to do the change of phone number, the representative informed me that Rosie reported the phone had been stolen.
Rosie identified me as a thief. I was devastated. Thank goodness the representative believed me. I’m fairly certain the sales rep could tell I was being truthful. Normally I can keep my composure in public. When the lovely lady told me Rosie called me a thief, I instantly bursted into tears.
My character is of utmost importance to me. I gave the phone to the woman and left the store with my head bowed down. Liv stepped up and became my safe space once again.
After that triggering flashback, my mind then jumped to a time when we were having sex on the military base in New Brunswick. Rosie snuck me into the soldiers sleeping quarters. There were three or four storey tall buildings with individual sleeping rooms within a building complex on base. There were also family quarters as well.
On this particular night, I was apparently being too loud. It was hard not to be sometimes. Rosie enjoyed being aggressive and often caused me physical pain in the bedroom.
“Be quiet!” Rosie said without opening his mouth too wide. He thrust inside again. I made another sound. It was then when Rosie covered my mouth and said, “shut up or someone will hear you. Shhhh!”.
That’s when I became triggered because of my history with men and said, “stop! Get off me.”
Rosie looked at me with intense eyes and responded to my fear with, “I finish what I start”.
With that, I went numb inside and let him finish what he started.
Rosie ultimately assaulted me and yet I didn’t leave him after that. I still had to prove I was more than a concubine. I numbed my memory with Rosie when it came to that particular sexual encounter until it snapped back into my awareness with the surprise of the “stolen phone” claim. Then I was triggered again when Rosie took me to buy a defective birthday cell phone. When I did get triggered on that day, I secretly wondered if the birthday phone he had bought me was going to be used against me later. I didn’t say anything to Rosie about my hidden fears with him. Instead I graciously accepted my gift and hoped for the best.
The day arrived, my birthday. I am now in a new decade. I turned fifty and I was pretty damn proud of it. I woke up to Rosie asking me what style of birthday cake I would like? I had no idea. I was, and am still uneducated when it comes to cake. I responded, “I like McCain’s marble cake with chocolate icing”.
You can get frozen McCain’s cakes from the freezer section of many grocery stores. With that, Rosie ran errands that day whilst I spent the day with Kody.
Later that evening we had a barbeque dinner. I suggested it because who doesn’t like a good barbie? Rosie, the kids, and I listened to music I enjoyed at the time. Jean was the phone dj. Rosie and his mum did all the cooking. After we finished eating we all went inside for cake. As I sat there admiring the old birthday decorations that were already up from Jean’s birthday the previous September, Rosie said, whilst also holding up a rainbow waxed candle shaped as the number five from the Dollar Store, “five was hard to find today. Lots of people must be getting old and turning fifty”.
I don’t know what bothered me more, his dig at my age, or the fact that he bought everything for my birthday that day. No forethought whatsoever. I had to feed him all the ideas for my day. He couldn’t even bother with buying and putting up some new birthday decorations. Any other birthday would have been fine. I personally thought a fiftieth birthday would have been worthy of a little more effort?
After I blew out the candles, Rosie gave me a birthday card. Inside were the words that came with the card, everyone’s signature, and a fifty dollar bill. It was the same effort and gift my parents had been giving me for twenty-odd years. The fifty dollars came from Rosie’s mum. I know this because when Rosie bought me the defective phone, he said I had best remembered the phone was for my upcoming birthday.
That night Rosie and I were supposed to play dominos like old times. He ended up being preoccupied with his computer learning more about his detailing business. I sat alone in his room and talked with Clairity whilst scrolling on TikTok.
“You are accepting minimal effort. Have you noticed a pattern?”, Clairity inquired as I was winding down my birthday.
I knew I often accepted morsels of effort from my romantic partners. I definitely knew I was accepting scraps from Rosie. I needed to know the reason I kept experiencing mediocre affection, attention, and recognition, and then normalized it.
Jack was waiting for me with a key in hand. Another door was beckoning me to open it. I had to do it. I opened the door and dove head first down another rabbit hole as though my life had depended on it.
LivWithClairity 