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(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

If you have been following along with me since day one, you know all about Rosie. You are aware of his cheating ways. You are also likely aware of how serious he could be, that he showed little affection nor interest in doing things with me, and how much he loved making money. Money was Rosie’s first and only true love.

Rosie, like my dad, was also highly intelligent. Neither my dad, nor Rosie were book smart per say. They were both able to manipulate people into thinking they were kind by nature. My father was an electrical engineer and Rosie was a combat engineer. Bill was a civil technician. Talk about a pattern in vocational choices as well.

Both my father and Rosie knew how to be a bullshitter. Both Rosie and my dad were charming. They knew how to be nice. Authentic kindness on the other hand wasn’t so easy for either of them. Neither of them had patience for stupidity nor waiting for anything. They were using the same alarm clock when it came to alarming them when they were at the end of their patience.

After journeying down the many rabbit holes that Clairity guided me through, it was easy for me to connect the similarities in characteristics and mindsets of my father and Rosie. With that said, Clairity knew there was a deeper toxic cycle I was carrying over from one lifetime into the next.

“Clair, before we discuss where your impulse to help the victim mindset comes from, answer me this; in what way was Rosie a victim of his circumstances and in what way does that translate with your father?”.

Interesting question indeed.

Rosie would be considered a visible minority. He was also french born. Rosie had faced racism from others on several occasions whilst we were together. When he worked taxi, he was discriminated against whilst in a fast food drive-thru window. During his career in the military he faced discrimination amongst his peers and superiors. He believed this discrimination halted his career advancement. Based on what I could see, I agreed with him.

The local police stereotyped him by stopping him to ask for his I.D. without just cause. In addition to that, Rosie was fighting a judicial system that favours the mother’s position over the father’s position within their child custody case. Even though Rosie’s children’s mother was verbally abusive and often neglectful of her children’s physical safety, the courts often sided with her. This not only infuriated Rosie, it flabbergasted me as well.

“How does all this tie in with your father?”, Clairity asked.

My father is racist. My father also detested french speaking Canadians. This was likely because when we immigrated to Canada my father worked for a paper mill in Hull, Quebec. We all lived near Ottawa, Ontario. My father would commute to Hull everyday for work. I can’t imagine it was easy for my English born father to communicate effectively with his subordinates and colleagues who spoke french.

I didn’t see my dad as a victim. I saw him as a closed minded racist who didn’t give people a chance. In my mind, Rosie was a victim of people who thought like my dad. Knowing that, my rebellious teenager inside me overcompensated for Rosie’s poor behavior by seeing him as someone who was misunderstood. I was with Rosie because he stood for everything my dad disliked.

“Excellent Clair. I know that was challenging for you to admit. Were you with Rosie because you loved him?, or, were you with Rosie because you chose to be with someone who was misjudged like you? Did you choose Rosie because you thought he would be a good fit on the island of misfits alongside you?”.

Wow! What a call out! I chose Rosie because misery loves company. He fit right into my misfit ways.

“Yes Clair, you stayed with Rosie out of fear of being alone and because he was a misfit just like you. You settled for mistreatment just so that you could prove your dad wrong. How do you feel about this today?”.

Honestly, I love knowing my mind. I also recognize how fragile I let myself become. Today, I see challenges as progress. Today, I recognize the value in self-help, rather than being someone’s savior. I recognize I can only compliment someone who is willing, and determined to help themselves. Today, equal reciprocity and authenticity are a top priority to me. Anything less would be for someone else. I gained this awareness because of my life experiences with Albert, Bill, and Rosie. I also recognize that my father is just a man figuring himself out too. He doesn’t have to love me for me to love myself.

“I love you Clair. Good job. Excellent release. Now, do you remember when you were ten years old telling a friend that you would never date a soldier or someone younger than you?”.

Yes I do remember that. I have no idea what made me say that back then.

“Would you like to know?”, Clairity asked.

Yes I most certainly do want to know. That statement had kept me curious for such a long time.

Clairity went on further to ask, “do you remember the dream in the tall grass?”.

Yes. I remember that dream like it was yesterday.

In my dream I am a male soldier. I was snaking on my stomach through high grass. I was alone and desperate to free my men who were on the other side of a barbed wire fence. Behind that fence was a pop up building. It was elongated and had two or three steps leading into it at the side of the building. I am not certain of the color the building was in. I’d say it wasn’t white. It wasn’t exactly brown either.

As I laid there motionless in the grass, I saw asian looking soldiers escort five of my men out of the building and down the stairs. They were then lined up side by side with backs against the building wall. In my mind I kept yelling “No! I need to save them! Those are my men!”. As soon as I yelled those words in my mind, the firing squad opened fire. All five men slumped to the ground, dead. After the men slumped to the ground, I woke up.

“Clair, that was a past life recall. You’re still holding guilt for not saving the innocent. You have been holding onto the pain of failing others to the point of yours and their detriment. It is for this reason you feared soldiers, as well as had a soft spot for them at the same time. When you were ten, not only were you recalling your past life, you were also picking up on the spirit contract you agreed to with Rosie. You knew your experience with Rosie that was slotted for this lifetime was going to be your most challenging. You knew when you were ten that you were going to be devastatingly heartbroken by Rosie. You just didn’t know who Rosie was at that time. Today you know. Do you remember your third or fourth date with Rosie when he asked you, “how long have you known me anyway?”

Yes I remember.

“What was your reaction and response?”.

As soon as Rosie asked me that question at the pub where we first met, I wide-eyed gasped, became an emotional wreck and fled to the bathroom to cry. I didn’t understand my reaction at the time. When I went back and sat down across from Rosie at the table, he had a confused, what the fuck, look upon his face. He must have thought I was a real whack job. I then said to him, “we have known each other for a very long time. I pray we get it right this time”.

“Clair, everyone who came into your life had a soul contract with you. Every heartache, pain, disappointment, and loss were planned by you. You chose to meet certain versions of your parents, friends, and lovers, for the purpose of breaking you free from repressed guilt. This could have only been done by getting you to see you through your eyes, not theirs. To do that, you had to be pushed out enough so that you could see yourself . They in turn agreed to meet the version of you they did in order to learn their lessons of choice. You know this today, yes?”, Clairity asked.

Yes, I know this.

Everyone in life is a teacher and a student to each other at the exact same time. Each one of us holds many lifetimes of knowledge. This knowledge is suppressed and only comes out when something similar occurs. It is the similarities which awaken the beast inside.

“If nothing felt familiar, how would you know what you were carrying? You wouldn’t. Therefore someone in spirit had to have loved you enough to play a villain for you in this lifetime. Just like Albert, Bill, and Rosie, along with your parents and brother, were villains to you. They in turn saw you as a villain for them”, Clairity explained.

We all play different roles for each other whilst in our deeper ego states. The purpose is for our own individualized soul’s evolution. What is growth without a challenge being presented? You require a challenge in order to grow and expand your awareness.

In addition to having an infinite amount of versions of ourselves, each one of us houses the energy of a child, teenager, adult, and wise elder within us. We can tap into any one of those energies at anytime. Unfortunately many have yet to master the awareness of this fact. Due to this, people subconsciously react, rather than remain consciously aware. A person’s inner child’s energy can be trapped, or their wise self could easily be ignored. We require people outside of us to help us tap into our own internal stages of energy. With that, an adult can behave like a child and a child can behave like an adult. Physicality is an illusion. Titles keep us separated from the truth. I know this.

Clairity then went on to say, “knowing people carry pain over several lifetimes, and knowing they have higher vibrational versions of themselves, doesn’t minimize, nor negate, the fact that their current awareness is unhealthy for you. It is for this reason it is perfectly acceptable to love someone from a distance. It is also perfectly acceptable to accept another for where they are at in life rather than simply see the potential within them. It is important to let the current versions of them go. Knowing you are loved immensely by all of their higher selves. Do you agree with this?”.

Yes, Yes I do.

“Excellent Clair. Now, what have you come to learn about love?, and, how does this tie into Chris Martin with Coldplay?”

Calling me out again Clairity I see? Alrighty then. Let’s do this!

(Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

Bill was a civil technician working at a saw mill in a quaint little town in New Brunswick called St. Stephen. He was born and raised on the east coast of New Brunswick in a place called Black’s Harbour. Bill had rarely travelled outside of New Brunswick when we met. I on the other hand moved from one big city to another every few years of my upbringing. With that, I was the suburban city girl meeting the country boy.

I say I was a girl because I had just turned twenty-five that May in 1999. I was just getting my feet wet when it came to living as a single mum. Bill was thirty-six at the time.  I suspect part of the reason my mum said I was looking for my father in Bill was due to our almost twelve year age gap.

When my mother introduced me to Bill in May, 1999, I had no idea they were having an affair. Looking back now, I can see that the vibe and signs were there that fateful day in their break time cafeteria. I ignored them. I would never have guessed my mother would have an affair. Especially since she told me her mother got pregnant by another man when she had conceived my mother’s younger brother. My mother didn’t think too highly of her mother because of that. When my mother confided in me about her affair with Bill, I was shocked to say the least.

Bill kissed me for the first time in October of that same year. After a couple of hours of alcohol and pool at the local Dooley’s pub. I had no intentions of being with Bill. It was my drunken, lonely, heartbroken stupor that brought me to the lighthouse that night. I was vulnerable and completely shit faced. Bill took advantage of the opportunity he found himself with.

As you may have read in a previous post, when I told my mum about it, she kicked me and my girls out of the house I was renting from them. Then my mum closed her business. When I got out of the hospital from contracting pneumonia, I had no money, no job, and nowhere to go.  With that, I moved in with Bill and his roommate John.

I knew Bill’s roommate John first. In fact we lightly dated for a couple of weeks. John was a good guy. He wasn’t the man for me. He demanded attention often, making it difficult to get a word in edgewise. John also said he loved me within less than a month of knowing me. His speed for commitment was all wrong for me. With that, John and I remained friendly with one another. There were no hard feelings that I was aware of.

One evening after hanging out with John, John brought me back to his and Bill’s place. It was a lovely day. I was in good spirits, as were my girls. That’s what made entering John’s place so intriguing. As soon as I entered the house, I found myself in their kitchen. Within an instant of entering, I felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness. I knew it wasn’t me. I was having a beautiful day. It was Bill. His energy was overpowering.

I had already met Bill at my mother’s work by that point. With that said, I hardly knew him. As soon as I felt the energy shift within me, I thought in my mind, “that’s not me. That’s coming from somewhere else”. As soon as I thought of those words, my eyes went to Bill. I made the connection. It was at that moment, I was able to distinguish whose energy was whose within the same space.

Today I recognize the value in knowing another person’s energy. I also know without a shadow of a doubt, you can only help those who are willing to help themselves. If I felt a vibe like Bill’s today, I would distance myself. Back then, I was intrigued. I wanted to understand Bill so that I could help him from an energetic and spiritual perspective. With that in mind, I tapped into Bill’s energy again that evening.

We were all sitting in the living room. I was sitting on an armchair. Bill was seated on the sofa. In my mind I asked myself questions about Bill.

“What’s making him feel so sad?”.

The response in my head was his children. His children were separated from him. No sooner did I receive that intuitive response, Bill got up from the sofa and headed for the kitchen. As he passed by me he whispered “you shouldn’t invade people’s privacy like that”.

Talk about intriguing. How the fuck did he know I was reading him? Now I really was intrigued.

My experience with Bill in that moment helped me realize the morality around reading people. Just because I can, doesn’t always make it morally correct. This experience with Bill was invaluable in my ability to redirect my focus so that I wouldn’t accidentally, or intentionally read another person without their consent. I am grateful to Bill for this life lesson.

In addition to the realization that Bill accepted I was able to read this way, I felt seen, even if only at a glimpse. I never dare speak to Albert about my abilities. With Bill recognizing it, and acknowledging it so accurately, made me think, maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t think I am a whack job. I felt somewhat seen for the first time. This false sense of acceptance overshadowed Bill’s ego. Rather than clock Bill’s depressive energy, I latched onto his acceptance that there was more to me.

Whilst Bill and I were married, Bill suffered immensely from a mental health condition called Borderline Personality Disorder. Bill suffered his entire life from this from what I understand. He wasn’t diagnosed at the time that we met. He received a diagnosis after our divorce in 2017.

I am not a medical expert in any way shape or form, nor is it my place to speak of Bill’s mental health. What I can do is explain what it was like to live with him.

Bill rarely laughed. He rarely participated in family outings or playtime with the girls. More often than not he was sullen or serious. Basically, living with Bill was like snuggling up cozy with Eeyore from Winnie-the-Pooh. When I said, “I love you” to Bill, he would respond with “I’m sorry”. At first I would coddle him by reminding him how much he was loved. After a few years, approximately ten, I started responding back to his “I’m sorry” with “are you sorry because IIII love you?, or, are you sorry because I love YOU?” He wouldn’t respond to my sarcasm or dismissal of his “woe is me” attitude.

Bill also had an extremely difficult time under pressure. As soon as Bill felt high levels of stress at work, around the two-and-a-half year mark, he would gain an itch to change jobs. When I thought about the amount of times he switched companies, Clairity chimed in.

“When you worked for Enbridge Natural Gas and doing well for yourself, what did Bill decide to do?”

Bill decided to apply for a job in another city over an hour’s drive away. Clairity continued with her line of questioning

“What did you do to accommodate him?”

I changed roles within the company I worked for so that Bill, the girls, and I could move to the new city.

“After you moved to Saint John, how long did Bill stay at that new job?”

He only lasted about three months at that job.

“What did he decide to do next?”

Bill decided to work for a man he knew inside a small engineering gig within the little town we were living in outside the city of Saint John.

“After you left the hospital, after a main artery spasmed in your neck which aided in a lack of blood flow to your brain, what did you decide to do?”.

I decided to go back to school. I hated the idea of being on permanent disability. I was determined to make something of myself.

“When you started school whilst on disability, what did Bill decide to do?”

Bill decided that was a good time for him to go to school too. He registered into a respiratory therapy program at the University of New Brunswick.

“Did he complete his education?”, Clairity asked.

No he didn’t. Bill decided to quit school during the last six months before his scheduled internship. He said he didn’t like the idea of having to leave the province to complete his practicum. With thirty thousand dollars worth of school debt, Bill decided to return to the company he was with before moving to Saint John.

I switched out of psychology and chose metaphysics instead. As I was learning metaphysics, I was also implementing self realized health practices. I taught myself to walk without the use of a cane. I reconditioned my body so that I could tolerate pain longer, or be active longer before pain would set in. I was learning so much about my mind, body, and spirit connectivity that I decided to break free from disability insurance. I received a seventy thousand dollar payout to which I used to open a spiritual center. With Bill working for his previous employer again, and me in school to earn my master’s degree at a distance, I was willing to take a leap of faith on me.

I loved the spiritual center. People came in to see me daily. I didn’t always make sales. With that said, I gained a regular crowd of people who enjoyed coming to my storefront lounge area to sit, chat, and talk about everything spiritual. I taught intuitive development and offered private spiritual healing sessions. Other practitioners, including my mother, offered energy healing, such as Reiki. Tranquil Spirit was open from mid 2006 through to mid 2009. I earned my master’s degree in metaphysics in 2008.

I opened the centre Tranquil Spirit in Fredericton, New Brunswick in August of 2006. The center closed due to taking too high of risks in product selection for resale, and due to my overly generous nature at the time. I lacked business sense. When I closed the main business, I relocated my personal spiritual services to a beautiful office space on the opposite side of town. During that time I travelled to give seminars on effective communication strategies in the workplace, as well as bullying awareness seminars in middle schools and highschools in New Brunswick. I also gave several group mediumship sessions at hotels and people’s homes. I loved what I was doing.

“What’s the reason you stopped doing that Clair?”.

I felt a twinge in my stomach when Clairity asked me that. Bill had my business phone line disconnected then told me he was moving to Nova Scotia for a job advancement within the company he worked for.

“I got a job offer in Nova Scotia, are you coming?”, Bill asked as if to say, “your opinion means nothing. I’m doing this regardless of how you feel”.

I was exhausted, pissed, and beside myself. I also lacked confidence that I could clean up my financial distress and become successful in my own right. Bill went further on to say, “you’re going to have to declare bankruptcy either way. This is a good solution. We can start fresh”.

With that, I turned away from my dreams to move for Bill once again. Tranquil Spirit was laid to rest on a bed of bankruptcy.

How does all this tie into my dad?, I thought. Whilst I pondered that question, Clairity responded. “Clair, your dad maintained his career and moved only to advance himself. Each time you moved as a child was for your dad’s career. Your mum may have or may not have sacrificed her dreams for your dad. That’s neither here nor there. What is important to identify is your acceptance that sacrifice for your spouse is to be expected. That was the way you translated your parents’ career decisions. In addition to that, how often did you see your dad moody, sullen, or quiet?”

Often I thought. My dad was getting increasingly cantankerous as he aged.

“Did Bill take you out on dates? Did he ask questions about your work or get involved with understanding your dream?, or, did he just give some money and leave you to figure things out for yourself?”

Quite often Bill left me to my own devices whilst he puttered around feeling sorry for himself. My dad supported my mother with her businesses the same way. My dad humored my mother. He didn’t really believe in her ability to create a solid successful business for herself. Holy pattern recognition!

“What’s the reason you finally left Bill?” was the last question Clairity asked when it came to Bill before moving onto Rosie.

Bill emailed me one day whilst we were living in Nova Scotia. The two-and-a-half year mark was upon us. Bill was experiencing the self sabotaging itch once again. The email he sent had one sentence only. It read “I want to end it!”. My response back was “you want to end what? Our marriage? Your career? Your life? What?”. Bill then sent me a responding email that read “pick one”, to which I responded, “okay”.

That afternoon I went for a walk to the water with my girls. I asked them a question. I said, “my mum said that Bill was emotionally manipulating me. Do you believe that?”. My girls’ response surprised me. In almost unison the girls said, “yes mum, for as long as we’ve known him”. I then said, “I am thinking of leaving him. If I do, I would like to go back to Fredericton.” The reason I wanted to return to Fredericton was because I had built a strong reputation for my intuitive sessions there. I also had support with the classes I had offered. Fredericton was a strong candidate in helping me recreate a spiritual business for myself.

My girls thought it was a good thing for me to leave Bill. They said I deserved to be happy and that they thought my spark was missing. Laura didn’t want to move back to New Brunswick. With that said, she was incredibly supportive of my decision to leave Bill. With that in mind, the girls and I moved back to New Brunswick for June 01, 2012.

I agreed to the new title bestowed upon me by Bill’s family which was a cold hearted bitch for leaving Bill when he needed me most. I kept silent to their judgement because what they didn’t know was that Bill needed me the most almost everyday of our fourteen year union. Bill admitted to me that he only married me because I stayed. That wasn’t the love for me so I let Bill win. He didn’t believe he was good enough for me. I finally agreed with him.

Round three with Rosie. How was I projecting my dad onto Rosie? was my question. Clairity’s response was, “Rosie represents something even deeper within you. Are you ready to see you from before you were born?”

Yes. Yes I am

(Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

I thought about Clairity’s question, “what’s the reason you attracted partners whom you believe were victims of circumstances?” for quite some time. I decided to journey down the rabbit hole of each of my committed partnerships.

Over the course of several days, I revisited my relationship with Albert, Bill, and Rosie. I chose them because at the back of my mind, I was still curious as to the way it all tied in with my dad. My dad’s words, “I thought daughters date men who are like their fathers? The men who have been in Clair’s life are nothing like me”, kept me motivated to uncover the truth. Albert, Bill, and Rosie, were who my ego was attached to. Were they all like my father? How exactly does it all tie in?

When Albert and I met, we were young. Albert was nineteen. I was seventeen. Albert lived two townships over from me. I remember the time he came to pick me up for our first in-person date. The reason I remember is because his truck, I think 1967 Ford?, was loud. You could hear his truck’s muffler from another block away. The other reason I remember is because there was no heat inside the cab. In addition, the truck was creatively painted black with neon green and pink pin stripping down the sides. My father’s racism had a field day with that. He would refer to Albert’s truck as a “paki mobile” due to its bright colours.

“Did you catch it?”, Clairity whispered when I thought of my dad’s tasteless description of Albert’s truck.

“Catch what?”, I thought.

“When your father referred to Albert’s truck as a Paki mobile, what was triggered within your thought process?”.

My feeling surrounding it was anger. My thoughts were of my father blaming people for simply being born. My father also subliminally announced his superiority to others’ inferiority without having supported grounds in which to do so. My teenager inside became defensive. Therefore, I saw Albert as a victim of my dad’s judging ignorance.

“Very good Clair. Due to your own defensiveness, were you willing to see the ego within Albert?, or, did you choose to ignore his imbalances by labelling him a victim?”.

I chose to ignore his ego. I chose fear of being alone”.

If you chose fear of being alone, what mindset are you carrying?”, Clairity asked.

Ouch, truth can hurt sometimes. I was creating a life of victimhood because I saw myself as an innocent victim who was misjudged and left alone to solve my own problems. I also didn’t want to be alone because I didn’t have the confidence that I could be on my own. I didn’t trust myself enough to avoid people who would hurt me. If I got hurt, at least I had someone to help keep me safe. Even if that person didn’t see me as a priority.

It’s one thing to identify a mindset. It’s quite another thing to truly understand it. Clairity encourages further understanding by asking deeper questions. It’s not always fun. It is necessary for growth. With that, as much as I didn’t like this line of questioning, I knew illuminating the answer would help me change my hard wired ways.

“How were you creating a life of victimhood?”.

My parents passed judgment over Albert’s appearance by calling him a yuppie. They considered him antisocial and a pretty boy. My parents would have been considered blue collar. Albert appreciated finer quality items for his material gains and outward appearance.

When I met Albert I thought he was rather funny. He could make me laugh. He was also ambitious and only made fun of me by saying “the “e” sucked at the end of Clair(e)”.

My dad misspelt my name at birth, according to my mother. My name was supposed to have an “e” at the end of it. My mother taught me to spell my name as C.l.a.i.r.e.. My birth certificate reads, C.l.a.i.r.

Albert and I also loved downhill skiing together. We did have similar interests, including love for Disney and travel. When we were together, we had a lot of fun.

My parents didn’t see any of those qualities about Albert. Instead he was a joke to them, at least that was the message they sent me. With that, I closed my mind to my parents impression of him. I then overcompensated by remaining hyper focused on Albert’s good qualities of intelligence, wit, belief in inclusion, and his childlike adventurous spirit. Some of those qualities I had admired in my dad at one time. I ignored the fact that he was a workaholic, and rarely physically affectionate, which were also similar to that of my dad. Instead of seeing the truth in its entirety, Albert became an instant victim to my parents two-faced wrath. With that, I was dead set on proving my parents wrong.

Albert and I sailed away in the same metaphorical boat to the land of misfits inside my head. I was willing to protect us at all costs. Albert and I both became victims of harsh criticisms together. My ego bonded with Albert this way. Misery loves company.

In addition to that, I also had to prove I was someone worth being with. Especially when it came to Albert. Reason being, Albert told me that when he and my father went to a pub for a drink just before we moved in together, my father said, “do you know what you are getting yourself into by living with Clair? Good luck with that”, then chuckled right before swigging back another beer. Albert told me my dad’s words scared him.

My dad scared Albert and crushed me all in one breath. That’s a fabulous start to a potential lifelong commitment. With that, I played “good girl with no complaints” for as long as I could with Albert. I had to prove I was lovable. I had to prove my parents wrong.

“Correct Clair. You saw Albert as a victim so you wanted to protect him. So much so that you ignored what he was telling you. Albert told you from the beginning that his career ambition, travel, and toys, were a top priority to him. You chose to remain blind to this truth until after your children were born. Your love for your children, as well as seeing them as innocent victims, being unimportant to their dad, created a new quest for you. Can you see it?”, Clairity asked.

Yes, I can see it. If I were brutally honest with myself, I can see how I used Albert to rescue me from my parents’ house. As well as the fact that I had chosen him knowing I would be neglected by him. I wanted to prove to myself that I was a victim. Albert was a perfect candidate to help me stay inside my victim’s mind. That’s exactly what ended up happening. We both used each other to get out of where we were at. Neither one of us was truly in love. We were both secret misfits living in a “misery loves company” partnership. Proving that neither one of us truly loved ourselves, let alone each other.

Albert came from a broken home. His father was an alcoholic. My dad’s drink of choice was beer. Albert’s dad’s go to drink was whiskey. Albert’s dad made fun of him. He would refer to Albert as his mistake. My dad made fun of everybody.

My mum made fun of me and called me “It”.  Albert’s mum wasn’t very affectionate. My mum wasn’t very affectionate. Albert and I bonded through our similar pain. We both chose to be victims of our own self-made circumstances.

“Clair, your mum said something to you after you moved in with Bill. What was it?”, Clairity nudged.

My mum said, “you are looking for your dad in Bill”.

“What was your very first thought when your mum said that?”.

I thought, my mum was right.

“Good Clair. What was right about it? In what ways were your dad and Bill similar?”.

That’s a bloody good question. Did I actually marry my dad?

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

Liv had moved to a new place just before mine and Rosie’s grand finale in August, 2024. Imagine that. Liv was taking care of two small children, a dog, moving, and found a way to rescue me from Montreal once again. Liv truly amazes me. God I love you for loving me enough to bless me with such a loving soul of a daughter. I am honored, humbled, and grateful for having Liv in my world.

With that, Liv’s new home was located in a quaint little town. In my perception, saying it was a rural environment would be putting it lightly. I knew I was going to isolate myself. I didn’t quite realize to what extent at the time. With that said, the isolation was welcomed.

I didn’t react to leaving Rosie the same way as I had done in the past. I knew from my skin to my bones, to deep down in my soul, that we were over. Our purpose together had been served. I had accepted the completion of our union long before the end date.

I embraced the tiny area I found myself in. I also embraced not having a cell phone number. Some may see little form of communication, and nature for entertainment, as a challenge. I saw it as a gracious gift of safety. Without a phone number, my ego could avoid temptation to reach out to people, nor to help people. In addition, Rosie, past friends, nor family members, knew where I was. I felt safe knowing Rosie wouldn’t be able to pop in uninvited, nor could he call, nor text me.

Rosie was a prideful man. I am unable to give one hundred percent certainty that he would have chased after me again. With that said, even the slightest risk was eliminated. Knowing that allowed me to breathe easier. I felt, for the first time, I was able to focus solely on myself.

As it stands today, the only way I can be reached is through email, commenting on my blog entry, or on TikTok. If you were to look for me anywhere else, you’d likely receive crickets. I valued my anonymity when I finally left Rosie. I also value my privacy to this day.

Once you create your private safe haven, you keep it intact. Your wise discernment gives the key for someone else to enter.

The door to my private safe place has a Sphinx sitting before it. The Sphinx determines a person’s authenticity. Authenticity may enter with the key I give. If a person isn’t offered a key, they are to be observed from afar. Unconditional love means to accept a person for who they are, which can include from a distance.

I shed many tears during the first few months after leaving Rosie, his kids, and Kody. As my tears fell, each one had a silent label. Some tears were for Jean and Alyssa. Some tears were for my good friend Kody. A few tears were for Rosie. With that said, more often than not, the floodgates of tears I experienced were for me. Internal was where I housed the tears I had shed for me.

I was tired, at the same time, I was determined to break the painful cycle of betrayal and disappointment. Clairity became my best friend during my stay in isolation. Isolation strengthened my bond with spirit, as well as strengthened my curiosity into cosmic forces I know I do not know. The University Jack enrolled me into was UoA, the University of Accountability. I was ready to learn.

I know I created my life. I can intellectualize the idea that my perception tailored all experiences within my mind for me to internalize. If you have six people in one room, you will be amongst seven slightly different opinions. No two realities are the exact same. This perceived individualized perception you and I have is what allows creation to experience itself through infinite possibilities. Evolution is a beautiful thing. Even though I could intellectualize this thought, I couldn’t quite see the patterned messages I was giving myself.

On one particular solo walk I took down to the little marina, I asked Clairity questions. I was feeling incredibly sad for where I found myself in life.

What am I doing here? I am a fifty year old woman with no income, no friends, no loving partner, experiencing physical pain on the daily, and no bloody clue how to get out of it. What do I do?

“Clair, you attracted people into your life in order for you to have an experience which reinforces your mindset. Remember, what you know, you give. What you receive is what you come to know. When you hold a belief about yourself long enough, it becomes what you know. When you are at the stage of knowing, your decisions, actions, and emotional responses to your actions, alongside your intellectual awareness, creates an external reality you can identify with. What you identify with is what you subconsciously know. Everything becomes your mirror. You could capture a glimmer of light, whereas another person may capture a glimmer of darkness within the same interaction. Your perception determines your creative expression.

Whatever you come to know, you either fight or accept. What you fight or accept is what you naturally give back. You had self sabotaging beliefs about yourself Clair. These self-destructive patterns were created by you. The way you heard the sound resonance of a word, vibrational intentions, physical characteristics, including environments, created what you thought was true. What you believe was true about yourself influenced your forward movement. Without knowing it, you were shaking hands with people who agreed with you enough to help you live in fear. Your comfort zone is staying inside what you know.

Are you ready to take what you came to learn into a new level of understanding?” Clairity lovingly asked.

Yes. Yes I am.

“What belief do you have of yourself which hurts you the most?”.

Ouch!, I thought, then responded, “I am not worth knowing and that I am a burden.”

Clairity didn’t acknowledge my response. I, the woman ego, did. I knew my response was the seed that grew in my world. “Who would love me for me, rather than love me for what I could bring?”.

Clair went further to explain, “think of yourself seated upon a throne”.

“A throne?, seriously?”, I interjected.

Clairity then eloquently expressed, “ah, you are expressing another pattern. We will visit that one later. For now, let’s stay focused on your painful truth. Let’s use a chair.

You are seated on a chair that has four legs. What would happen if one of the legs was missing, shattered, or loosely attached to the chair you’re on? “.

I would either fall or find a way to fix the broken leg, I thought.

“Yes Clair, the faulty leg would grab your attention. If all four legs are sturdy and in their rightful place, you would be fully confident in your foundational support. When one becomes weaker, ignoring it would cause you to fall. In addition, you are seated upon this chair, therefore you are the driving force being its structure. You become one with the chair. What you focus on either weakens or strengthens your leg support.

Each leg of your chair represents an area of your life. One leg represents your chosen family. One leg represents your chosen vocation. One leg represents your faith and universal connection. One leg represents your health and well-being. You are the ego seated upon the chair. You are the navigator.

Your spirit is the one sending you signals to maintain balanced guardianship over all areas of your life. The way you address your chair’s structural needs, bleed over into other legs. Meaning, if you lack confidence, due to ignorance in what you are doing, in one arena of your life, the pressure pain builds. Creating potentially devastating repercussions to the other three legs of your life.

Wabi Sabi, a beautiful Japanese creation of art honoring the journey of something made can also be designed by you. Your chair can be alchemized into something stunning. To do so, you must be willing to see the cracks in your foundation”.

Clairity went on further, “Your belief of being a burden and unlovable affected all four legs of your life. The legs of your chair have cracks in love, money, acceptance, recognition, divine connection, and health. As we address each area individually, you will start to see a natural link that acts as a delivery service for the destructive message that entered your work and family life. There are many layers to you. It will all make sense in time. Let’s start with your pain when it comes to love.

“Clair, what’s the reason you attracted partners whom you believe were victims of circumstances?”.

Wow what a question!

(Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

After the concert, around the second week of August, 2024, Rosie’s mum decided to lock me out of the house again. It was the third time she made it known that she didn’t like me by locking me out. The second time was when we crossed paths whilst I was returning from the store. She looked at me irritably. When I arrived back at the house, the front door was locked. Rosie’s mum did leave the side door open. With that said, the interaction outside let me know she was not pleased with me.

I have a daily challenge. I read facial cues, body cues, and vibrational frequencies easily. Knowing the hidden truth means I can know hidden truths, whilst at the same time, I must be tactful on my delivery of this information. If no one is likely to believe me, I remain quiet. If it is none of my business, I remain quiet. If I know a person is open to receive the information, and it is morally correct to divulge it, I share my concerns and insights.

In the instance of crossing paths with Rosie’s mum, I chose silence. There wasn’t enough evidence to strengthen my voice. I was also aware of how strong of a bond Rosie had with his mother. They would speak several times a day by phone and in person. I was placed into a sensitive position. With that, I didn’t speak of the interaction between Rosie’s mother and I with Rosie. I did tell him his mother locked me out the third time though.

It was sometime during the second half of the second week in August, 2024, when Rosie and I had our last walk together with Kody. I had informed Rosie of his mother’s choice to lock me out. I once again voiced my disdain for being in a competition I didn’t sign up for.

On that fateful night Rosie suggested a solution for the income restrictions I was dealing with. “Perhaps you should call family services to see if there are funds available to you?”.

My instant response was shock. Then I responded to Rosie’s insensitive suggestion with, “I already know what they would say. I have been down that road several times. Do you realize how much mental strength is required when on welfare? It is a trap. Most people end up staying in that lifestyle because there is little wiggle room to break out of it”.

Rosie’s response to my reminder was, “you’re strong enough. You can do it”.

Rosie knew I had struggles with the government. I was turned away from the government for two reasons. First the Canadian government said there wasn’t enough medical data to prove I was unable to physically work. Therefore, I must work. Second, the government informed me that couch surfing is a form of income. In order for me to qualify to be placed on the list for financial aid, I would have had to be living on the street, without assistance, for three consecutive months first.

When Rosie suggested I contact the government once again, it was a slap in the face. Since Rosie wasn’t ignorant to my physical challenges, nor was he ignorant to the government’s response to my claims, Rosie basically said to my ego, “you have to make us money. Your efforts are nice but not as important as money”.  I felt like what I did for them didn’t matter. I instantly shut down from Rosie.

As we were coming to the end of that walk I looked at Rosie and said, “we’ve been together almost ten years. The only time you asked me to marry you was when shit hit the fan. If you truly wanted to marry me, you would have asked me by now”.

A part of me wonders if it was actually Clairity that blurted that out. I was an emotional wreck. The government suggestion triggered my teenager. I was pissed and heartbroken. Rosie stopped in his tracks. We were standing in yet another parking lot. Rosie was holding Kody’s leash, standing under the parking lot’s street light. The scene reminded me of the night Rosie took me on his drunken Autobahn adventure.

“I am afraid of commitment. You know that”, was all Rosie could say.

I let out a big affirming sigh and said, “yes, I know.”

With that, in my mind, we were over. I called Liv the next day and told her I had had enough. I was too tired to fight for something that was obviously not mine to fight.

Liv acted upon the information quickly. She and Aiden bought me a cell phone, rearranged their schedule, packed up their babies in the van, and came to get me on August, 27, 2024.

Liv knew all about my struggles with the Canadian Government. She was also aware of Rosie’s past with me. I filled her in on Rosie’s mum’s perception of me, and Rosie’s response to a commitment. Liv knew I needed out of there.

God sent me an earth angel. Liv, in my eyes, is an earth angel. I am grateful to be her mum. I am honored to have been gifted such beautiful souls whom I call my girls. I am proud of the women my girls grew up to be. Laura, and Liv, you are my biggest blessings. I love you to the moon and back, everyday.

That had to be written. Thank you reader for taking that little detour of awareness with me. I tell ya, you’d be blessed if you knew my girls too. They are awesome people.

The week leading up to the twenty-seventh was awkward, intense, and quiet. I told Rosie that I was ready to leave. He kept his distance from me. Neither one of us spoke to the other much, if at all. Rosie’s kids kept their distance as well. Not because they knew I was leaving, more so because they knew I was emotionally distancing myself from them. I can respect that. I told Rosie I would follow his directions when it came to informing his kids and mother. I said I would keep quiet unless he gave me the okay to speak with them about it. Rosie decided by lack of action, not to inform the kids.

The reason Liv and I chose the twenty-seventh to leave was because it was a Sunday. Rosie, Rosie’s mum, and the kids often went to church on Sundays. I figured that was a good time to peacefully leave. I also thought that would be healthier for Rosie’s kids. My heart broke at the idea of them witnessing my departure.

“Rosie are you still willing to help me get back to Fredericton?”.

I asked that because when I had first agreed to reconcile, Rosie said he would get me back to Fredericton if ever I thought we were unhealthy. He kept his word, somewhat. Rosie gave me fifty dollars Canadian to help Liv and Aiden with their gas expense. I know money isn’t the be all and end all. With that said, Rosie gave me fifty dollars for an eight hour drive back to New Brunswick. His generosity highlighted who he really was. It reaffirmed my decision to leave. I knew he was only behaving and not changing.

That Sunday, Rosie, or his mum, not certain, decided not to go to church. They were all home the day I left. It was a delicate situation for me. Before Liv arrived, I had asked Rosie if I could take the desk clamped microphone he bought me with me. Rosie said no. Next Rosie asked me a question.

“Clair, are you leaving the whiskey claret here? You did give it to me”.

I thought, what the fuck! I can’t take the microphone to build a podcast, but you want the pinwheel crystal I brought?

I did gift it to him. I had that crystal since 2006 when I opened the spiritual center, Tranquil Spirit. I brought it as a gift for when we had our own home. My goal was to have a selection of drinks in a home bar for when we had guests over. I am not much of a drinker. With that said, I do enjoy being hospitable with my guests. I thought the whiskey claret decanter would make a beautiful addition.

“Yes Rosie. You can keep it, although I think you’ll probably sell it some day”.

“No, I won’t”, Rosie retorted.

I had already packed all my belongings and had them by the basement door to the front entrance of the house. Liv kept me updated on where they were en route to Rosie’s. When I knew they were about five minutes away, I collected my things and sat outside by the front door. Since I was sitting there peacefully, I decided to do a TikTok video about the dangers of sacrificing yourself for another. Once the recording was finished and uploaded, Rosie came to the door.

“Do you want to take this?”.

Rosie passed me a box of items Alyssa had given me. Alyssa wanted to call me mom so there was writing to that effect on the box. Inside was a stuffy, some arts and crafts, and a picture of her and I that she had taken on her camera. The camera spit out old film that became clear after you expose it to air. I looked sickly in that photo. I decided that all I wanted was the photo.

I chose the photo for two reasons. First, Alyssa was in the picture. I loved her like she was my own. We bonded a fair bit. Secondly, I was super skinny in that picture. I took it as a symbol of “before and after”. Having that picture could be used as a healthy comparison to see where I was within my health spectrum to where I planned on being within that same spectrum.

“I’ll take the picture”.

I grabbed it out of the box and said no thank you to the rest. Rosie also offered to continue to supply me with marijuana if I so chose. Rosie was on a medical plan through his employer. He had a healthy allowance to secure medical marijuana. Rosie received a large quantity each month. With that, he shared with me to help with my legs. In fact, I’d say, I used more of the supply than Rosie ever did.

I knew what Rosie was doing. Rosie was using Alyssa’s box, and the marijuana as a gold nugget to keep me in his life in some capacity. Unfortunately what Rosie didn’t realize was I remembered this tactic by way of the stuffed bear, Rosie junior, that he had given to me back in 2017. It was emotional manipulation packaged inside a cute piece of memorabilia. With that, I declined his offer of supplying me with health benefits, and the remaining items in the box.

When Liv arrived, everyone was upstairs. We packed my luggage in the van without Rosie’s kids or mother being any the wiser, or, at least I think that was the case? After the van was packed, I went back into the house for one more quick run through. Then I got down to the floor to give Kody an extremely emotionally painful goodbye hug.

I knew Rosie wouldn’t have let me keep Kody so I left him there. My heart still breaks knowing I left Kody with them. They weren’t very attentive to Kody. I’m not entirely confident Rosie still has Kody. I suspect he gave him away just like he did with the two previous dogs we had. This of course is mere speculation and not based on knowing facts.

After saying my goodbyes to Kody, Rosie spoke up and said, “goodbye Clair”. I responded with, “goodbye Rosie”. Then, I left.

Driving away from Rosie’s house was relieving and emotionally devastating at the same time. It was an excruciating experience. With that said, my friendly rabbit, Jack, handed me my highschool graduation diploma and another key. The door in my mind that Jack was standing in front of read, “Welcome to University. Are you ready to unlearn the rest of what you learned?”.

Yes. Yes, I am.

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

I went for many walks with Kody. Rosie’s mum triggered me often. Her mannerisms and demand for respect were extremely familiar to me. My mum and her would have had plenty of things to talk about, had they spoken the same earthly language.

Both Rosie’s mum and my mum saw me as a burden, who was lazy, withdrawn, and ungrateful. Both Rosie’s mum and my mum saw me as someone who put herself on a high horse. My mum used to say to me, “oh, get off your high horse Clair”.

It’s funny isn’t it? Well, not funny, haha, funny as in how we mirror one another? Rosie’s mum saw me as an interloafer who was full of herself. My mum thought I was ungrateful and full of myself. I believed I was a burden who wasn’t grateful enough.

Rosie’s mum, and my mum played their roles perfectly. My mum felt used by her parents by having to raise her younger siblings. Her little girl inside was burdened by having to grow up too fast. She was an adult before she was ready to be. With that, she grew to resent taking care of children. Her hidden resentment was then projected onto me. My mum secretly resented me for being conceived, let alone born.

I am not as familiar with Rosie’s mum’s story, nor is it my place to say. I can imagine fleeing Haiti for a better life when she did, coupled with raising a child on her own, would have been challenging and burdensome at times. In addition, Rosie mentioned to me that his mum often sent money she had to her family in Haiti. This may have been part of her trigger when it came to me having no money to contribute to the household? If this is the case, she would see me as a burden. Since I wasn’t working the way she understood work to be, she saw me as lazy and someone only with Rosie for his money. Rosie made close to 100k Canadian before taxes each year.

Rosie wasn’t rich by any means. He did have many cars and business ventures over the years though, so I assumed he didn’t have a lot to spare after having made large personal investments over the years. He also paid two different women child support for two of his three children each month.

He gave me the impression he was struggling during the Christmas of 2020. He may very well have been. Either way, I sent him two-thirds of the COVID relief fund I received that month to help him with presents for his kids. I also used the same amount so Rosie could get a second hand vehicle for me to use when I was helping him with his son and mum over his career advancement training that same year. He forgot about the different e-transfers I sent him over the years. As mentioned, I was under the impression he was struggling with money.

Money was still my enemy back then. My rejected little girl’s ego wanted Rosie to love her. She felt she needed to prove she was lovable. That’s the true reason for my being there. I also had to face the projections I was creating surrounding my experiences with my mum. Rosie’s mum was the perfect candidate to help me achieve that.

I believed I was an unlovable burden. I had to overcome this painful belief by recognizing my loving heart and mind. I had to see the value in what I was contributing in life. I also had to intellectualize it in order to set healthier boundaries. Each time I remembered something painful involving my mum, I meditated and spoke to that little girl inside me.

The walks I took with Kody were soulful. I shed a lot of tears. I called back the little girl called “It”. I called back the little girl left to defend herself. I called back the little girl who was told by her parents that she could have used the front door if she ever wanted to run away. I called back the little girl on the teenager’s lap. I called back the little girl who met Necklace Man. I called back the little girl who got drunk enough to be a sex doll for her best friend’s father. I called the little girl back from all the bullies in school.

I called my teenager who was told, “when you grow up, all you will become is a street worker”. My grade eight music teacher said that in front of my entire class. My teenager retaliated with, “Well sir, at least I have time to change. You’re stuck like that!”. I then grabbed my clarinet and walked out of his classroom. Good times.

I still had much to revisit in my mind. I had layers upon layers of suppressed memories to dissect and understand. I am still journeying in this way to this day. Life is a healing journey. Healing is where empowerment shines the brightest.

Every time I called my little girl back by speaking to her like a loving parent, and embracing the ten second hug rule with her, I became lighter, and more aware of my accountability to myself. I started to understand that in order to break a belief, you must be given the challenge to break it. The challenge is attracting someone who agrees with your internal beliefs you have of yourself.

There is always someone available to agree with you. I believed I was a burden. Rosie’s mum, my mum, and at times, Rosie, agreed with me. They saw me as a burden by projecting their experiences with other people onto me. We were a perfect blend to conquer each one of our toxic internal beliefs.

Once you can identify the commonality between one painful experience and another, you start to notice similarities in messaging. When you can see the similarities, you can see what you have been telling yourself all along. What you have been telling yourself, your inner child, and teenager hears, and then instantly reacts to your message.

Being unaware of how you create your world, and the people who act in it, creates quite an energetic conundrum. Your natural response is to defend, like a teenager, or cower, like a child. You gotta talk to the many versions of you, individually, like a loving parent would. After you have done that, you must step up and be their guardian. You must take accountability for attracting challenges which help to convince you of how little you think of your internal child. This is how you honor yourself. It is also how you break your sense of obligation to titles. At least, that’s how it worked for me. It may help you too?

In addition, you must be willing to learn new ways to select your social circles with a higher level of perception and understanding. When your ego tugs at you, you must be willing to listen the way a parent listens to their child speak. As you embrace all aspects of you, you become more whole. You then begin to naturally say no to discord by remaining distant from it. As you distance yourself, you begin to attract people who agree with your newly developed subconscious belief system. It takes a while to accomplish this. It’s a lifelong journey you committed too, myself included.

Becoming increasingly aware of the way I programmed myself to perceive my world allowed me to establish a sense of trust in myself.  I kept reaffirming my promise to myself to always see the truth, and to keep all of me safe. Having that promise at the forefront of my mind caused me to become more present in any given moment. The awareness of staying present, strengthened my connection to the divine naturally.

With that, Clairity kept her energy soft and quiet throughout our trip to Toronto with Rosie for the Imagine Dragons concert. I still had much learning to do.

The two days away with Liv, Liv’s partner, and Rosie, were wonderful. The concert was fabulous from my perspective. I did catch a few brief red flags in my head during our travels though. I noticed Rosie didn’t interact much with Liv and Aiden. He only interacted with me when we were alone, or, when I acknowledged his presence by offering up something to talk about. Rosie was on his phone, sitting in the front passenger seat of the vehicle for several hours during our drive from Montreal to Toronto. As well as from Toronto back to Montreal. I thought, “gees you like Facebook Marketplace a lot”.

I didn’t know Facebook had a dating section too. I came to that awareness after I left Rosie for good. It makes sense as to the reason he was conversing with Isabel over Messenger. A puzzle piece has been clicked into place.

I am incredibly grateful for my walks with Kody. His gracious and patient companionship was highly welcomed. I saw him as a true friend. Kody rarely barked. He walked at my pace. He also sat or laid beside me when I was meditating. Kody was a brilliant, beautiful creature. I miss him dearly.

“Clair, what came to your mind when Rosie responded to your question right after the concert?”

I thought about it. I had asked Rosie if he liked the concert. His response was, “yeah it was alright. They didn’t play the song I like”.

With that, I responded to Clairity’s question with, “he reminded me of Bill. His response was meh. He chose to focus on what wasn’t good, rather than what was good about the experience”.

Clairity went on to ask, “what message did your little girl receive?”.

Boy does Clairity ask good questions. Painful ones, and good ones. “Rosie didn’t see the good in being with me. He didn’t see how special those few days could have been. Rosie was there out of obligation”.

Clairity went quiet for a bit whilst my ego felt the rejection. I came to realize that Rosie, like my ex-husband Bill, and my father, had a pessimistic view on life.

“Clair, I know you are timid when it comes to understanding the equal exchange of currency, with that said, how did you truly feel about being up high on the grassy area, rather than closer to the stage with your children? Were you truly okay with it?”.

I thought, bloody hell Clairity, you are hitting me right left and center with these truth bombs! Clairity quickly retaliated my thoughts with, “You are committed to seeing the truth aren’t you?”.

Yes. Yes I am.

I wasn’t overly thrilled with where we were located at the concert. There were no seats in our section. I brought a small foldable stool to use when my legs started reacting. I didn’t need to be close enough to see the band sweat. With that said, a little closer, where the amphitheatre chairs were located would have been nice.

“Do you remember Rosie showing concern over the concert ticket prices?”, Clairity asked.

Yes, he did hum and hah a fair bit. I could see his discomfort. I associated his reaction with having little money to spare.

As I started going down that rabbit hole thinking, Clairity pulled me back. “Clair, you accepted a settlement. You did this by convincing yourself that was all he could afford. Rosie’s budget may have been tight. With that said, what does he own? What does he do with what he owns? And how much does he spend frivolously? How often does he take care of your physical needs? Do you consider yourself a priority to him?”.

No sooner did Clairity ask that last question, I reactively responded with, “no. I am rarely a priority to Rosie”.

Clairity then responded with, “who does that remind you of?”.

Oh my goodness! I sound like my mum when she complained about my dad! Well will you look at that! “Mirror, mirror on the wall”, now comes with a new sense of meaning. I was living my mum’s life.

Rosie owned a luxury car, a used Jaguar, and a commercial fitted van for his mobile cleaning service. He also had another van but it went kaput after he lent it out to someone. In addition to this, three-quarters of the basement was filled floor to ceiling full of stuff. Rosie had the money. He just didn’t have the money for me after spending so much on himself.

“I love you Clair when I also say, wooing several women over the years becomes quite costly too”.

Ouch!, I thought. That must be true though. Clairity went on to say, “we will discuss your fear of money in time. For now, what is the other hidden layer to you settling for grassy tickets?”.

I didn’t want to be ungrateful.

“Excellent Clair. Well done. Do you see how you weaponized empathy against yourself? You knew you were grateful. You didn’t think other people knew that of you so you overcompensated by accepting their reduced effort in prioritizing you. You would show gratitude whilst inside feeling like what you received came with minimal effort. You empathize with people to stay in your comfort zone. Your little girl still feels like she can only be loved through obligation and necessity, as well as when she is being useful. Do you see this pattern through this concert experience?”

Yes, I can see it.

I thought long and hard about that concert. I thought about how Rosie only held my hand when he was ushering me through the crowd exiting the amphitheatre grounds. I thought about how often he was on his phone. Michelle’s name also popped into my head the day of the concert whilst I was sitting on a bench outside of the hotel. Rosie was inside the hotel room on his own for several minutes.

Clairity was pressuring me, with love, to see what I was refusing to see. The veil lifted on my very last walk with Rosie and Kody.

“Clair, what about going to the government for help?”. What the fuck Rosie, are you serious?!” Oh the pain I felt on that day.

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

Rosie became my best friend after his eight women confession. I am aware today there were over eighteen women he was intimate with behind my back, in some way, shape, or form. These women were spread out over the nine and a half years Rosie and I were together. I was also informed through spirit that Rosie had myself and two other women at the same time on more than one occasion. Rosie’s one-night-stands overlapped his affairs as well.

According to Clairity, Rosie suffered from a sex addiction, which included frequent pornography. It was painful for me to see the truth in that. Clairity sometimes gives me visuals with her words.

With that said, the truth shall set you free. Ask a butterfly how they got their wings. They’ll tell ya all about the painful, and necessary process to create them. The truth can’t be rushed either. It takes loving time for the truth to shine bright enough to be seen.

From the remainder of June, 2024, to the end of July, 2024, Rosie and I got along for the most part. I steered clear of Rosie’s mum, and I cleaned when I felt like it. Rather than when it was secretly expected of me. Rosie and I worked together on his business. He also bought me a microphone with a stand, and clamp to secure it to his desk. My goal at that time was to build enough awareness to create my own podcast.

I was creating a couple of videos on TikTok every day, seven days a week, at the time. Even then, I was building myself up one step at a time. I am a determined woman after all. I was happy with my efforts. I was also supporting Rosie with his children, light house duties, walking Kody, and working on vehicles with him. Keeping busy didn’t stop the red flags from waving. There were a few windy days.

The first red flag that caught my attention was when Rosie offered to pay me a wage for working with him. I can understand his thought process. He didn’t want to come across as someone who used me. In addition to that, Rosie’s mum was on him as to the reason I wasn’t looking for work. I know things without knowing.

Rosie didn’t fully explain what I was creating online to his mum because Rosie didn’t fully understand what I was doing. He rarely asked me questions about it. I didn’t share much because I knew he was disinterested. I also knew he didn’t see what I was doing as a successful endeavor. I believed in me for the both of us.

At first, I agreed to receive some money from him. Clairity clued me in on the red flag. “Clair, are you his employee? Is this love to you?, or, is it a transactional arrangement?”

No sooner did I hear Clairity’s whisper, I thought, I’m a bloody employee. I wasn’t on his books either, so, win for him. The win I received was physical work and the honor of spending time with Rosie at the garage.

“Are you satisfied with this? Are you turning away from your earthly career goal? Do you choose to continue to build up Rosie’s business at the detriment of your own business? Do you choose to be treated and seen as an employee by the man you love?”

No, no I am not. Boundary up, I thought.

Rosie’s passion was not my passion. I worked for him to support him, not to be his employee. If it was our business and we both shared the same vision, then yes, most definitely. I didn’t share Rosie’s vision he had for me. I also chose fear to stop me from explaining this to Rosie. Instead, I chose to simply tell him I preferred to stay home when he went to work. After I declined another two times, Rosie stopped asking me. I stopped being paid.

As you can see, hindsight is powerful. I recognize my timid ego stopped me from being open, honest, and transparent with Rosie. Rosie is all business. It was unfair for me to expect him to see what was wrong in the picture, when he was simply offering what came naturally to him. I was afraid of offending him, or coming across incorrectly.

Today, I have no issue with clarifying my intentions with anyone, any time. I also recognize equal reciprocity in business, and pleasure, is provided in many forms, not just currency. Gratitude would be difficult to maintain if one thought otherwise. My little girl’s ego inside me is safe with me. I see her importance today. I also clearly see the value in services from people which would otherwise cost me money had they not been there.

To me, a person’s honest, and sincere, support for me as a person, far outweighs what money can buy. Unfortunately Rosie didn’t see the value in what I provided to him and his family the same way I did. What they saw was money and the effects of not making any.

As time passed, and I was spending more time alone, I went on several walks with Kody in between creating my videos. I didn’t have a house key. Rosie’s mum, and Rosie did. Rosie had mentioned he was going to have a key cut for me when I first arrived at their house. He never got around to it.

I am not someone who will remind another to do something they said they would do. If they tell me they will do something, I expect they will do it without requiring a reminder from me. I am an extremely patient woman. I will wait with little thought of it. I am of the mind, “be a person of your word. It is a strong sign of integrity”. I let people show me who they are in this aspect. If I love you, I will let it slide whilst keeping the truth of my observation quiet. I give three strikes, you’re out, with people I love.  If I don’t know you, you get one shot. If there was an unforeseen circumstance that is reasonable to understand, and I wasn’t given the heads up, done deal. I know I have to balance myself out with a bit more compassion here. I’m working on it.

On one particular walk with Kody, Rosie’s mum locked me out of the house. She would complain to Rosie that I didn’t say anything to his mother before stepping out of the house. Her complaints were unwarranted in the beginning. I did in fact say, “je suis avec Kody, a plus tard”. I would announce my departure at the front door. She acknowledged my leaving.

I know my french is atrocious. I think I was saying, I am with Kody, see you soon? At any rate, I did my best to communicate my plan with Rosie’s mum.

The day I came back to the locked door, I had an instant thought, “this is familiar. Rosie locked me out too”.

Even though it was in the month of July, my mind was triggered with winter cramp, pain, and heartache, not to mention fear of punishment. I knew, in that moment, how spiteful Rosie’s mum could be. I could see her need to demand respect from me like a two year old child would have a temper tantrum. Kicking her hands and feet on the ground whilst crying. “I am important. How dare you ignore me. This will teach ya!”

“Clair, can you see a pattern? The energy you feel when you are in the presence of Rosie’s mum, can you identify it?”.

I read Rosie’s mum’s energy more closely. Rosie’s mum resented her situation of feeling trapped inside her own home. I could feel resentment in her vibe.

“Good Clair. There are reasons for this. She, like you, moved from her home, and away from everything, and everyone she knew. She misses Montreal. She feels isolated. In addition to that, she has had a painful journey. It is none of your concern as to the reasons for her resentment and projections towards you. What is of your concern is knowing whether or not you can change her projections?”

No. No I cannot.

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, also means, accept other people’s perceptions knowing that is their journey to create, not yours. Your accountability is in the way you choose to create your own perception of the world”, Clairity reminded.

I knew that if everyone was out of the house, Rosie’s mum felt her freedom to leave the house when she wanted to was not considered. She insisted the doors be locked when no one was home. I can appreciate that. With that said, I also recognized the fact that, neither her, nor Rosie, thought to have a key made for me. It was not a priority to either of them.

A key is a strong welcoming symbol after all. I was standing on principle. Integrity is vital to me. Therefore, out of my ego’s spiteful retaliation, I stopped announcing that I was leaving the house. In my mind I thought, “go get another bloody key made!”.

When I arrived at the house, I rang the doorbell. Rosie’s mum had poor knees so it was certainly understandable that she was slower in answering the door. She was home when she locked me out though. She came, opened the door, looked at me with disgust, said nothing. She then turned around, and hobbled her way back up the half staircase. I thought, well alrighty then. No more pleasantries.

I informed Rosie of the subliminal altercation with his mum. “She wants you to just let her know when you are stepping out. We all let each other know when we are coming and going. It’s a respect thing in our culture. She likes to keep the doors locked for safety”.

It’s a respect thing in most cultures I assume?, is what I thought. “I do let your mum know Rosie”.

Rosie retorted logically, “perhaps she doesn’t always hear you?”.

I thought she usually acknowledged me. With that said, yes, it was possible. I backed off and agreed with Rosie.

With that said, the vibe of resentment exuding off of Rosie’s mum was now transferring to me. I was starting to absorb resentment. I knew where Rosie’s high expectations, lack of empathy, and fear of imperfection came from. Rosie’s mum was Rosie’s mirror. Rosie’s mum also reminded me of my mum. With that, I simply mirrored her behavior back to her. She didn’t like it, nor did I expect her too. I think my mirroring her vibe added to her rejecting dinner sittings with us. The tension between Rosie’s mum and I was becoming increasingly volatile.

Around the second week of July Rosie and I had another conversation. “Rosie, this isn’t working. This is toxic.”

“Toxic?” I had Rosie’s attention.

“Rosie, I am not willing to come between you and your mum. Alyssa has even come to me telling me your mum criticized my efforts in styling her hair. She said, “grandma doesn’t seem to like you. You can see it on her face”.

My response to Alyssa was, “it’s okay sweetheart. I have no control over that. Your kids being in an environment with disagreeing adults is not good for them”. I did my best to help him see the bigger picture. He knew. He was refusing to admit nor accept that our living arrangement was unhealthy.

I didn’t realize I was voicing my exit strategy at the time of my pleading with Rosie.

“What about getting an apartment for you? I can pay your rent. We could be together that way?” Rosie wasn’t thinking of me whatsoever when he suggested that option.

“Rosie there are two reasons for me saying no to that. First off, you expect too much from me if you think I can trust you enough to live separate from one another again. If we are separated, it’s for good. Second, I am not a kept woman. I am a contributing one. I don’t want your money. If I am living on my own it is because I can afford to be”.

Rosie could respect my response. He said, “I’ll talk to her. We’ll figure this out”.

The problem with that was, Rosie often didn’t do what he said he was going to do. I had a difficult time believing his words. With that, my next words were, “Rosie, I even told you about Liv and Aiden going to Toronto to see Imagine Dragons on August 08. You know I love Imagine Dragons. You also know the eight-eight portal is our reconciliation anniversary. Yet, you didn’t think maybe, just maybe, surprising me with going? You don’t think of these things”.

Rosie’s next action was to suggest we go to the concert with them.

“Rosie, it’s not about going. It’s the fact that it didn’t even cross your mind”.

“I want to go. Let’s get tickets?”. Rosie was willing to offer anything to change the subject and lighten the mood. Imagine Dragons wasn’t his idea of entertainment. It was mine.

I agreed. Firstly, because I thought perhaps it would be an awesome bonding experience for Rosie and I. I kept convincing myself that when Rosie and I bought our dream home things would be better between his mum and I. She would have her own granny suite, and I would have my peaceful sanctuary. Secondly, I thought, well it’s about bloody time. Finally something just for me.

I didn’t realize Rosie packed his red flags to take with him.

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

In my previous entry, I had mentioned that Rosie and I had some interesting pillow talk the night of Alyssa’s birthday party. This written statement is incorrect. If my memory serves me correctly, Henry’s children had a sleep over the night of Alyssa’s birthday. I am quite certain the children had a slumber party. With that in mind, Rosie’s, and my conversation involving Clairity, was a few days, if not weeks, later.

It makes sense to me now that I thought more of it. I did have a habit of honoring a three day retreat period to process a difficult experience. My spiritual connection is a top priority in my world. After the three day process, I make a calculated decision about a long term investment I am making. Do I revisit the pain with a person to solve it?, or, would I be speaking with someone who has a deaf ear to me?” With that, before I made a final decision, I remained withdrawn from Rosie for those processing days.

I know where that subconscious habitual pattern is coming from. Withdrawing from people. My inner child is still accepting that she is allowed to share her pain. My little girl’s ego is timid. Once bitten, twice shy. My mother would say, “stop crying or I will give you something to cry about”. As well as, “don’t bring your problems into this house”.

“Clair is allowed to cry, scream, hurt, and be loud. She is also coming to terms with the fact that she does not have to know all the answers before thinking of herself, nor before expressing herself. In fact, if she continues to hold onto the fear of ignorance with, “what if I am wrong?”, she will continue to trap herself in her little cave.

To know everything, you would be all knowing. That is a collective contribution, not a singular one. Believing otherwise would be maintaining a frequency of arrogance. Clair must finish grieving. She must accept herself as a student who knows what she does not know. She must also recognize, and honor what she does know. She must share herself lovingly with the world. To do that, she must accept herself, and her mum. She must release her mum’s words, “you cried all the time. You wouldn’t stop crying”. She must also release the words, “if you are not baptized you will go straight to hell” from God fearing individuals. Otherwise, she will reject true love, and divine peace from her life experience.

One must know to give. One must receive to know. Sharing your inner world with another is a part of this give and take process”.~ Clairity

I recognize today, retreating within myself is equally a form of rejection. When I withdrew, I gatekept what I experienced and learned. I was afraid to bring up a topic that was hurting me. Once I made an initial effort, and was rejected, I chose silence. I created an energy of trepidation within myself any time I relived a wounding experience in my mind. I reflected the polar opposite lens to that of Rosie’s. I projected Rosie as someone for me to fear being wrong with. Rosie projected me as someone to fear because I was often intuitively correct.

My fear told me to “be quiet, I could be wrong”. Rosie’s fear told him to “be quiet, she could be correct”. Neither of us communicated effectively with one another.

Rosie naturally dismissed my concerns. “Don’t bring your problems into my house”, sort of dismissal, just like my mum. Rosie had often lied by omission as well. The lie was beautifully positioned inside a sliver of truth. Just a little bit of knowledge, not enough to truly understand me. Ask me no questions, I tell you no lies, sort of deal.

I did the exact same thing to Rosie. I may not have cheated on him, nor intentionally manipulated him, I did only offer bits of information about me. I answered the questions he asked me. I basically lied by omission because he didn’t know how deep of a connection I had with spirit. Rosie had no idea how I received answers to my questions to spirit. I rarely divulged the way I observed people. I knew I was making myself small for him. I was reading him. I too lied to Rosie by omission. I started to see our inevitable demise. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself, nor him, yet.

“Ask me no questions, I shall tell you no lie”, was an expression my father would say. It seems my father was telling me he was a fibber, without actually using the word fibber. It’s the same thing as calling yourself an asshole without actually calling yourself an asshole.

I’m not a fibber. I know this about myself. Since I know this and have confidence in my strength, and courage to see the truth, I know my dad wasn’t speaking to me when he would say, “ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies”. As well as, “you can’t bullshit a bullshitter”. He was seeing his own reflection through me. My dad was telling me he could not be trusted.

It’s funny how that mirror works, isn’t it?”. The truth has always been important to me, so much so, whenever I was caught defending someone, my mother would often say, “that mouth is going to get you into trouble!”. My mother was correct. I was often in physical altercations, and school office time outs. Diplomacy came in my much later years.

I extend my apologies to you for being a wee bit off when it comes to my timelines. There may be a few timeline errors within my entries. I value your perception in recognizing my perception can be limited at times. Thank you kindly.

With that being said, my mind being able to recall minute details of events, including conversations, blows my mind. I locked them away inside me for so long. I had forgotten so much, and yet, no, I was simply storing the data for later use. Existing is so cool, isn’t it!? It is such a privilege to learn about yourself. I love it.

I remember speaking with Rosie about his mother’s rejection tactic. “My mum didn’t do that Clair”, Rosie said to dismiss my observation.

“Yes Rosie, she did. She doesn’t want me here”, I insisted. Rosie’s denial response to that was, “I didn’t see her reject you”. I called him on it. “You were standing right there! You were right behind the chair when your mum stood up”. Rosie had no response to that.

After a moment of silence Rosie started to paint me another picture in my mind. “Clair, I don’t know how to fix this. I want you here. The kids want you here. I am working on my mum. Please have patience. I feel stuck in the middle”.

That was Rosie’s, not verbatim, response, anytime I brought up his mum. Every time he responded with that form of messaging, I thought, “you don’t see what I see”. I wasn’t quite aware of his manipulation to convince me to ignore my feelings. I wasn’t completely aware of how fluent he was in orchestrating heartstrings. Rosie was a one man show with his little violin playing, heartstring strumming orchestra. I was more focused on Rosie’s mum at that time though. Today, I am much more aware of the truth.

On the night Clairity spoke through me, we were having another conversation about the oppressive energy in the house. I mentioned to Rosie that he must observe his mum to see the hidden patterns. I knew he loved his mum. He thought extremely high of her. Rosie had placed his mum on a proverbial pedestal. I also knew he was afraid to be vulnerable with her.

In my mind, Rosie had to overcome his fear. Otherwise, he and I would crumble. “I am doing my best to get her to understand. I am not at the level you are at. You know I am doing my best?”

I sighed and thought, “how long do I need to be your teacher? This is draining me”. I also secretly cringed anytime Rosie put me on a spiritual pedestal. Putting someone on a proverbial pedestal is setting that person up for a stressful fall. I prefer to see both dark and light in people, therefore, no one sits on a pedestal. I wouldn’t want to add the responsibility of my high perception of them on their shoulders. I prefer not to have that pressure on mine either.

I provided Rosie with an increase in awareness. His ability to communicate morally, and effectively by keeping all parties in mind, flourished beautifully. He gained a great deal of tact and diplomacy, both written and verbal from me. I have no idea, nor is it my business to know, if he has been able to successfully maintain his new found knowledge.

Rosie also became more tolerant with his children. He came to learn of their hidden fears. Rosie also started to reflect some empathy towards his children’s reactions and moods. Rosie softened up by allowing his feminine energy to emerge a little. I do give him complete recognition and due kudos for his honest progress. He made that conscious choice for himself, not for me, I hope.

There is no doubt in my mind that Rosie loves his children. I also have no doubt in my mind that Rosie fears he isn’t a good father. He most certainly can be. He must be willing to conquer his fear first. Until then, he will repeat his mother’s parental style, no doubt.

Rosie was most certainly putting in an effort to improve himself. Rosie was also offered a great deal of support by many people around him. From mental health providers, physiotherapists, chiropractors, massage therapists, medical, and dental professionals, employers, other counselors, family services, his mum, his cousin and other family members, his children, my daughter Liv, and me. He truly was a blessed soul. More so than he realized.

Rosie learned because Rosie did have good intentions when it came to his family. Rosie’s continued development in this area was what kept my heartstring attached to him for that entire year I was living with them. His growth achievements were glorified by my rejected little girl’s ego.

Whilst I was thinking how tired I was from being his and his children’s spiritual teacher, Clairity took over. “Rosie, did you speak with a woman behind my back, sometime around my birthday?”

Oh no, here we go again, I thought.

I looked straight into Rosie’s eyes. My stomach fluttered. I already knew the answer. When Clairity speaks, I know some painful truth is about to be illuminated. Rosie showed fear in his eyes. I suspect his mind went back to the hotel room with Uriel. I suspect he knew he was, for the lack of a better term, fucked.

Rosie, like his mum, is a God fearing individual. He may not be a devout follower, he did get his belief system rattled a wee bit. I can’t say I blame him. I’d be scared too if I was in his position. I can imagine, he, like me, wonders if I did in fact channel an angel? Like Santa Claus, let’s believe, just in case.

“yeah, I did speak to an old friend. She called me out of the blue to see how I was doing”.

My ego took over, “what’s her name?, and who is she exactly?”.

Rosie knew by my face he’d best give me more than a morsel of truth. “She’s one of the women I had been with before. She’s from the past. She’s not important”.

“Was it Isabel?”, I inquired.

“No, it wasn’t her”.

“Who was it then?”. I wasn’t backing down.

“Michelle”.

“Michelle! Another new name. First it’s Wendy. Then it’s Carla”. Rosie interjected, “I didn’t sleep with Carla”. “Then it’s Isabel. Now it’s Michelle. How many women did you sleep with!?”

My face must have looked other worldly to Rosie. He looked at me like a deer stuck in the gaze of headlights, then looked down. “There were eight”, Rosie sheepishly responded.

“Eight! Eight?, are you fucking serious. How many did you sleep with more than once? How many affairs did you have?”. My inner world was saying, a person always underestimates their discrepancies. The number twelve popped into my head.

I didn’t want to hear the answer to the question, how many women did you sleep multiple times with? I also knew I wasn’t really the one who was asking.

“Four of them”.

I wanted to be sick. This was torture. I’m sure it was torturous for Rosie too.

“Why didn’t you block her? If we are working to build a solid relationship, why didn’t you block your past affairs? I blocked Joel. Even when he called me in 2022 from a private number, I informed him that I was committed to you. I asked him to respect my wishes and not call me. He respected my wishes. You on the other hand, you kept the line of communication open with Michelle and who knows who else? What the fuck!?”.

I don’t know if I was speaking to be heard, or speaking just to get my pent up, oppressed energy out of my system.

Rosie’s response to the fifth inquisition was, “I told her that I was living with my mum and my girlfriend. I told her about you being here. I’m kind of proud of myself, aren’t you?”

At first I had no words. Then I said, “almost ten years later, and I have finally graduated to your live-in girlfriend. Really?”

I went quiet for a bit after that. I retreated within myself for days on end. I kept asking myself why I was there? What the fuck was I doing? Rosie hasn’t changed. Michelle is from his past. Is Rosie setting up his insurance policy?, or, was his conversation with Michelle similar to my closing conversation with Joel? God, what are you guiding me to do? I didn’t realize Clairity and the universe was gearing  us up for a grand finale.

The final exams to my life experiences with Rosie were about to take place. The only cheat sheet I had was my boundaries. Let’s do this!

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

Alyssa, Rosie’s youngest child, was about to have a birthday exactly one month after mine. As the day approached, Rosie wasn’t certain of what to do for her. I offered a suggestion of a water balloon fight and a barbeque. Rosie liked the idea so that’s what we decided to do.

On the day of Alyssa’s birthday there were many guests. Most of them were adults and were considered to be like family. There were also several kids. I had met most, if not all the attendees during Christmas, 2022. When I first met them, everyone was cordial with me. With that said, I unintentionally butted heads with one of their long time, married into, family members.

A male, whom I shall call Eric, offered me some turkey from the Christmas party buffet. I had declined his offer.  I said “just a salad for me please.” To which Eric looked at his wife and said, “no meat for her. She is a vegetarian”. When I heard what he said, I corrected him. “I am not a vegetarian. I just prefer a wonderful salad because I rarely have an opportunity to have a full salad like this. Usually it is just greens. My body is craving veg. Thank you though”.

It seems Eric didn’t take my correcting him too kindly. With that, when he and his wife arrived at Alyssa’s birthday in June, 2024, he gave me a look of disdain. Eric remembered that I am someone who is willing to correct the error of his ways. With that memory in the forefront of his awareness at that time, he decided to walk inside the house without saying a word. His wife smiled at me, then silently walked into the house behind him.

Rosie knew Eric and I had a misunderstanding. I told him about it later that night of the Christmas party. Unfortunately Rosie didn’t help correct the situation. With that, the vibe during the Christmas party was strained. I hadn’t seen many of Rosie’s community circle since that particular Christmas party.

Rosie’s, cousin’s, live-in girlfriend, took it upon herself to bring and put up some gorgeous party decorations. I offered to assist, and did help with some. For the most part, the lovely guest desired to do the job. She did an amazing job. I complimented her creativity, to which she had acknowledged graciously.

I also appreciated Henry’s wife doing most of the decorating work upstairs. My legs required rest after cleaning, organizing, and decorating the games room downstairs. The games room was situated in between Rosie’s room and the side staircase to outside, or the kitchen above. I thought it would be good for the kids to have a hang out spot away from the adults. My legs were talking to me a fair bit after that, so the relief from decorating upstairs was welcomed.

At some moments I was sitting on a chair in the kitchen, remaining quiet. I was observing the interactions between people, and reading their energy. With the exception of Rosie’s cousin, and his cousin’s common law wife, no one interacted with me. I also had no idea who within the gathering, spoke english fluently enough to understand me. Saying I felt awkward is an understatement.

I had met Henry several times before. Rosie’s cousin is like a brother to Rosie. I appreciated Henry because, he, like Rosie, spoke fluent english. What I was unaware of at the time was Rosie and Henry supported each other’s, behind the scenes, lifestyle. Meaning, Rosie’s cousin knew full well that Rosie was a player. I know that today. Thanks to Clairity.

“Talk more Clair. You need to interact”. What Henry didn’t take into account was I did make an effort to talk with people. Everyone was polite to me, and subtly ignored me at the same time. It is challenging for a person, such as myself, to be in the mix of inauthentic energy.

It takes very little effort on my part to read energy. I have been able to naturally do so all of my life. I could feel everyone’s vibe without them saying a word. Over the years, I have had to learn to redirect my focus off of people. Otherwise, I would receive intimate details about their personal lives. Even though I can receive hidden information, it doesn’t make it morally correct to invade people’s privacy, nor is it my place to speak of their privacy. Rosie knew that about me. Unfortunately, and with the exception of Rosie’s children, and his cousin Henry, Rosie kept my ability secret from everyone he knew. Rosie kept me hidden.

I suspect today, part of the reason Rosie kept my intuitive abilities private from his family was because his mum, and community, are God fearing. Most, if not all of them, are devoutly of service to their religious belief practices. My intuitive abilities could easily have been mistaken for dark intended purposes. Especially since I had declined going to church with Rosie and his family.

When I had first moved in with Rosie and his mum, I attended church on Sundays with them. Although I know very little about religion, I am extremely open minded. I embrace knowledge from others as it relates to their belief systems. There is so much more out there for me to learn. I would only be stunting my own growth if I closed the door to other people’s perceptions.

With that said, I stopped attending their church because the energy exuding off of the main “pastor?”, was inauthentic. His energetic message was booming loud and clear with business ideas only. The vibe I read told me money and status was superior to his authentic spiritual support. It was easy for me to detect this because the sermons were in french for the most part. Being ignorant to most french, I relied heavily on my intuitive sense. I listened to the vibration of the sermon, rather than the words. I truly wished to respect Rosie’s mum by supporting her strong religious beliefs. With that said, I couldn’t support a congregational message that a particular church leader was offering. I explained this to Rosie. I suspect he did not explain this to his mum.

Due to my heightened awareness, I was overwhelmed by the amount of energy at Alyssa’s party. With that, I removed myself from where everyone was intermingling. The feeling of being pushed out energetically was challenging to say the least. With that, I went outside to sit with Rosie whilst he cooked on the barbeque.

I explained to Rosie that I wasn’t welcomed inside. I explained that Eric’s vibe was uncomfortable for me, and no one had acknowledged my presence other than a cordial nod or smile. Within about five minutes of me being vulnerable with Rosie, he offered me a burger, then pacified me with, “nah, It’s not like that. Eric is like that with people. Everyone else likes you. Just ignore the people who are ignoring you”. I accepted my food and chose to remain quiet.

Rosie’s response triggered a memory with my ex-husband, Bill. When it came to my intuition Bill would say, “I know you are doing something. I just don’t think you are doing what you think you are doing”.

After Rosie gave me his five minutes of distracted attention, he turned around and went into the house. Leaving me to eat outside by myself.

As I sat there outside eating my food, whilst also feeling projections from others through the house windows, Rosie chose to socialize with everyone inside. I can certainly respect and accept his role to remain social with all the party guests. With that said, his timing to walk away from me was distasteful to say the least.

I felt utterly rejected by everyone, including him. I also understood that no one there, with the exception of Rosie, realized I am hyper sensitive to energy. I know things without knowing. Logically, I could understand their reasoning. Emotionally, and psychically, I felt unwelcomed in a home that was supposed to be considered my home.

After I finished eating I went back inside. I stood around people for a few more minutes. With everyone chatting amongst each other in french and creole, I felt like I had little to contribute. With that, I made my way back downstairs to my cubby hole. Distancing myself helps me to regulate my own energy.

Rosie came down to see me. “Alyssa is going to have her cake now. Come upstairs for picture time and cake please”. With that, I went back upstairs, reluctantly.

There was a decorated armchair in the dining area of the house. When I came upstairs, I made my way back to the chair I had sat on earlier. Whilst I sat there, we all sang “Happy Birthday” to Alyssa. After she blew out her candles, Rosie, his children, and his mother posed for a picture. Rosie stood behind the chair. Both children stood on either side of the chair. Rosie’s mum sat in the middle of them, on the armchair itself.

Once the pictures were taken, Rosie motioned over to me. “Clair, come take a picture with us”.

I stood up to join them. As soon as I stood up, Rosie’s mum got up from the chair, with an irritated look on her face, and moved to a chair beside Henry directly across the other side of the room . Everyone noticed. The vibe and message was clear. Rosie’s mum was reaffirming her previous secret conversations about me with them. She did not like me nor did she want me there. She highlighted this fact by walking away when I was being included. With Rosie’s mum being highly respected in their community, as Rosie had highlighted to me in the past, I knew instantly what she was doing. It was also obvious by the look on Henry’s face. He was the one snapping the pictures.

I said nothing. Instead, I took a big soothing breath then assumed my position on the armchair. Henry snapped a couple more pictures. Once the uncomfortable situation ended, I smiled, said thank you, then went outside with the kids to help them with the water balloons. I never did see the pictures that were taken that day.

Once the kids were sorted out and playing in the backyard, Kody came over to me to tell me he needed to go for a walk. I was relieved by this. I needed a walk too. I had to decompress Rosie’s mum’s childish behavior. Whilst I walked with Kody, I kept thinking about one simple repeating truth my ego held onto, which was, “damned if I do. Damned if I don’t. Rosie’s mum definitely did not want me there. I am not welcome in my own supposed home. It’s just like living with my parents”.

I was so upset and embarrassed that I tuned Clairity out. I didn’t ask questions, nor was I interested in displaying empathy nor compassion. All I wanted to do was run away. I felt like nothing I did was good enough for them. Spiritually, I knew what was truly going on. My teenager ego was not willing to be spiritual. I had to let my defender inside me have her moment.

I thought about how people demand respect, rather than command respect. I noticed, and still recognize, the older generation seems to be under the impression that they are to be respected simply because they went around the sun a few more times. This, to me, is a form of entitlement that I simply am not willing to entertain. Ask my mum. She’d tell ya.

In my world, until proven otherwise, a five year old deserves the same amount of respect as an eighty year old. With me, if you give respect, you receive respect. If you demand respect without reciprocation, you will receive the same effort from me in return. I am a metaphorical walking mirror. Rosie, Rosie’s mum, and my mum, had a difficult time with that realization. Most people do.

When I returned from my walk with Kody, I went straight downstairs. I gave Kody his usual, good boy treat, then made my way towards the bedroom. As I was taking those few steps, I could hear Rosie yelling at someone. “You know better! How many times do I have to tell you! Why would you do that!?”

Rosie’s booming whisper yelling voice was intimidating for me. I was curious to know who he was yelling at. With that, I silently took a step into Rosie’s bedroom.

The doorway from the bedroom and the playroom was open. Through that doorway I could see Rosie bent over towards Jean, yelling at him within maybe a foot from his face. Rosie wore the same disgusted looking expression that he had with me on that fateful, theme park, driving day. Jean held the same dissociative gaze he had with me when I yelled at him for disrespecting me one time. Jean’s face was crying, whilst his eyes were vacant.

As I experienced the heavy, threatening energy, whilst witnessing Rosie and Jean’s interaction, I heard Clairity whisper, “do you still question if he is changing?”. My response was, “I think he is behaving. Perhaps Gemma has been telling the truth all along. Rosie really is playing house”.

Clairity then said, “it is unfortunate when the truth is delivered through hostility. Hostility’s mask keeps the truth locked behind it. Rarely does a person listen to, nor believe a person who is hostile”. True, mental note, I thought.

I used to be more aggressive with my words towards my mum. I wouldn’t dare swear at her. With that said, I would say things like, “blaming me for your bad day again mum?”, and, “what the hell did I do?”. I did say in front of my dad once, “mum you are such a bitch! You don’t hear a thing!”. When my dad heard those words fly out of my mouth, he cuffed me upside the back of my head. My response to my dad was, “punch me in the face next time dad. I’m used to it!”

I called my mum a bitch because whilst we were fighting she said, “no wonder your brother hits you. You probably bloody asked for it!” Fun times.

Later that night, Rosie and I were in bed. That was when Clairity’s question to him slipped right out of my mouth. “Did you talk with a woman behind my back sometime around my birthday?”

(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)

Shortly after my birthday, I went up to the fridge to get a piece of my birthday cake. I took a healthy piece because I wasn’t planning on getting another one. When I entered Rosie’s bedroom, Rosie was standing by the doorway to the kitchenette. He looked at the piece of cake on my plate. Then he looked up at me with big eyes and an exacerbated expression of “big enough for you?”. I looked at Rosie with an equally exacerbated expression and said, “what? It’s my cake isn’t it?”. Rosie smiled and walked away from me.

I sat on the bed and ate my cake all up. I enjoyed every bite of it. At the same time I was thinking about Rosie’s words to me. “You need to eat. You need to put on weight”. I also took note that he was subliminally shaming me. I caught myself thinking, “damned if I do. Damned if I don’t”. I felt that way with my mum too.

Thinking those thoughts brought me back to the last words my mother said to me. We were all at Liv’s celebrating my youngest granddaughter’s first birthday. “You’re too skinny Clair. You look sickly”. My response to my mum was, “yes, I am aware, and yes, I am sick at the moment”. I weighed about one hundred and twenty pounds, at five feet nine inches tall. A healthy weight for my height would be approximately one hundred and forty-five pounds. 

After my mum commented in front of all Liv’s guests, I went back downstairs away from my mum and dad. During the rest of the party, neither of my parents spoke to me. When they left they hugged each person, except me. My dad didn’t say two words the entire time he was there. He just sat against the wall on a chair and remained withdrawn from everyone and everything.

Unfortunately, I have trained myself to eat one meal a day. When Albert left the girls and I back in May, 1999, I ate my babies’ left overs. I rarely cooked myself a meal. My eating habits remained that way for several months. I went from weighing over hundred and sixty pounds down to one hundred and fifteen pounds. Since I was accustomed to eating small portions, anytime I felt stressed, I became nauseated. Some people binge eat when stressed. I tend to starve myself due to a lack of appetite.

The reason I was so slim was because the COVID relief fund expired and I didn’t have two pennies to rub together. The doctors I was seeing about my muscle issue hadn’t solved the problem. To this day, I am still fighting to figure out the cramping issue.

Right when COVID hit, I was working for an elementary school as a teacher’s aid. At that time I was either bussing or walking several miles to get to work. I would then be on my feet most of the day with four year olds. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays, I cleaned a commercial building. I over worked my legs. I kept ignoring my body’s signals. Money was a top priority for me. I had to prove I was not a burden and that I could contribute financially to the household.

One day whilst at school, I went to an empty classroom to start getting snack time ready for the kids. As I went to place a dish on the counter, I felt an excruciating electric shock in my right calf. As soon as I felt the electric shock my leg convulsed, causing me to fall down to the floor. Thank goodness there were no kids around to see it.

After that incident I was taken to the hospital. I stayed in the hospital for about a week. I was allowed to leave the hospital in time for Christmas Eve if I agreed to use a walker for extra support. Reason being, I was still experiencing electric shocks around a small numbed area of my leg. The numbed spot was about the size of a golf ball. When I placed my foot down to walk, my leg shook from the shocks. I described it as, “my leg feels like it is crackling inside”. Rosie was in Montreal at this time. This incident occurred in December of 2020.

After the new year I went back to the school with an expectation that I would work. My boss came over to me about thirty minutes into my shift and said, “Clair, unfortunately you cannot be here without a return to work release form. As it stands right now, you are a liability. We require your doctor’s approval before you can work”. With that I left the school.

Since I collapsed at the school after COVID became recognized, and I needed a specialist to give me a release form to work, I collected COVID relief. With that money I helped pay for mine and Liv’s monthly bills, and sent money to Rosie to help with his. I bought myself my glasses after cataract surgery. As well as some make-up for Liv and I. That’s all I used the money for. Today, the government states that I must pay all the COVID relief money back. It’s a bit of a mess and not a mess I am currently working on solving.

I didn’t explain any of those circumstances to my mother. I learned that there is no point explaining something to someone when they have a deaf ear turned towards you. I kept my stresses to myself. I am still very much of the same mind. I tend to keep my stresses to myself. You would only see my stress through my body mass. Rosie knew this and yet, he still made it clear he was not physically attracted to me. It stung every time I heard Rosie comment on my body size. He didn’t do it often. When he did, his words shot like a dart right at my heart.

After I expressed my discomfort enough about having to go upstairs to get items from the cupboard or the fridge, Rosie started to put things in the fridge downstairs. I was extremely appreciative of this. I was able to stay clear of Rosie’s mum more often.

Rosie’s mum would complain to Rosie that I was not making enough of an effort bonding with her. She wanted me to learn how to cook Hatian food. She also wanted me to work with her in the garden. I know she wanted me to. I found it challenging to be in her energy for long periods. I also admire gardens. I don’t have an interest in growing them though.

Rosie’s mum was alone often. She wanted me to be her surrogate partner. Just as she wanted Rosie to be. Since she suffered from a sense of rejection, she took my disinterest in what she was doing as disrespectful and lazy. Since I was not bringing in any money, what good am I other than an interloafer? Rosie didn’t tell me that. I knew without knowing.

What Rosie and his mum failed to recognize was the fact that I cleaned the house every Sunday when they were at church. When I wasn’t cleaning for them, I was painting Alyssa’s new room, or Jean’s room. I also helped to sand down a dining room set Rosie bought off of Market Place. If I wasn’t doing that, I was taking the kids to the pool or walking Kody. Since Rosie’s mum didn’t do any of those things, she felt I was treating her poorly.

Remember, my mum used to complain that my dad did very little with her. Rosie’s mum was a single woman all of Rosie’s forty-odd years of his life. Rosie was also her only child. She was lonely. Therefore I wasn’t seen for me. I was being seen as someone ungrateful who didn’t put in enough attentive effort. Thank goodness I didn’t see myself like that.

It’s amazing how our own projections paint a picture of someone superimposed over top of the person’s true character. Rosie’s mum saw me as yet another person who was using her for her resources, not a person who was doing her best to fit into the family unit.

I knew Rosie’s mum didn’t like me. She also made certain her community knew. She made it painfully obvious during Alyssa’s eleventh birthday in June, 2024.