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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+)

Clairity’s question, “what’s the reason you accept minimal effort?”, played on my mind the rest of that night. The next day, I went for my usual walk and toke with Kody. Whilst we were on our walk, I thought about Clairity’s question again. My first thought that came to my mind was my mum’s words to me, “I may have to love you, but I don’t have to like you. I don’t like you right now. Get out of my sight”.

No sooner was I living in that past memory, Clairity brought me back into the present.

“Yes dear. You are on the right track. Having that message inserted into your teenage years created what form of internal messaging you gave yourself?”.

I was only to be loved out of obligation, rather than loved for me being me.

“Yes, correct. What form of affection did you witness between your parents?”.

That was a good question, I thought. I recognize I am working through rewiring a traumatized brain when I say, I am unable to recall my parents ever kissing in front of me. I am unable to recall my parents ever holding hands. The only time I can recall my dad showing physical affection towards my mum was when she was preoccupied in the kitchen, cooking dinner.

My mum would get annoyed with my dad. She would shoo him away and say, “piss off Gary!”. My dad would then back off and start to nitpick at my mum’s cooking style. My mum would then retaliate with, “if you don’t like the way I cook, then bloody cook it yourself”.

The only other memory I have of my parents being truly affectionate towards one another was my dad calling my mum sweetheart. My dad called all females sweetheart.

Perhaps there were times when my parents embraced in front of my brother and I. If they did, I do extend my sincere apologies to them for my misleading. I am honestly unable to remember. I also must recognize, I was not privy to their pillow talk. My parents love each other in a way that is none of my business, nor is it of my concern. Therefore, I do not have all the facts. I only have what I have come to know in my perception.

Due to my selective memory, I built layers, upon layers, of messages telling myself that I must earn someone’s love because otherwise they would feel obligated. I believed no one would love me for me. They would only love me if I was being of good service. I had also learned that public displays of affection were taboo. Men prefer to enjoy my body in private. I also learned that “sparrow legs, knock-knees, arsehole, and she who must be obeyed”, were terms of endearment.

My parents are also English born. According to my parents, English people only hug dogs and horses, children are to be seen and not heard, and out of sight out of mind is best. I could never embrace those ideas for myself. I detested that approach to people, especially children. With that, I over compensated by becoming overly affectionate and giving of my heart. The challenge with over compensation is a tendency to over give, and see the good in people, always. Meaning, I trained myself to ignore the darker aspects of a person. I chose to see people’s light because I had to keep defending my own. In other words, I started to weaponize empathy against myself.

“Very good Clair. What does this mean to you?”.

This means I must be willing to see a person’s true efforts without glorifying them. I must be willing to see the similarities between my parents’ expression of love, and Rosie’s expression of love. I must be willing to see both his shadow, and his divine self.

“Yes, this is true Clair. There is no blame, no shame, only understanding. You give of yourself freely. How often did your dad take your mum out on dates?, or, plan anything extra special for her on Valentine’s day and her birthday?”.

I remember my mum showing me a beautiful ring my dad bought her when I was around twenty-seven. She said, “finally, I have an engagement ring with a wedding band set”.

If my memory serves me correctly, my dad gifted that set to my mum for Christmas? Before then, my mother wore a wide, thin band, with star patterns etched in it. My mum didn’t wear an engagement ring. My parents went on trips, leaving my brother and I alone a couple of times. Other than that, I can’t say I remember my dad doing anything that special for my mum.

I also remember seeing a photo of me when I was a baby. I was being held by my dad’s, dad’s, second wife. My brother was standing in front of my dad’s dad. We were all dressed nicely. The photo was taken at my parents’ wedding. My mother showed me the picture one time and said, “look. You were even crying that day. You never stopped crying”. The message I received from my mum was, I even ruined her wedding day for her.

Clairity broke my thoughts of that picture with, “have you noticed you keep your tears to yourself? Have you noticed you keep silent even though you received little affection?”.

Yes, I am seeing a pattern. Rosie had kissed me, maybe a handful of times. He had only ever called me beautiful twice. One of those times was during sex. He only complimented me when I looked sexy enough for him, and he never showed public displays of affection.

“Are you noticing a deeper layer in that pattern?”, Clairity asked.

Yes, I most certainly am. Rosie only said “I love you” when he was love bombing me.

“Excellent. You are acknowledging the love bombing. You are listening to the experts we have been sending you online. Very good. Do you remember your parents saying I love you to each other, or to you?”.

Fantastic question! Rarely if ever, did I hear the words, “I love you”.

“Clair, in what way did your dad tease your mum each year when it came to her birthday?”.

As soon as Clairity asked, I thought, “well shit, would you look at that. My dad is five days younger than my mum. Each year my dad would tease my mum about her age. Especially the big decade turning years. Rosie did the same thing with me. Rosie is four years younger than me. He enjoyed reminding me of my age as well. I am starting to see the patterns.

“Excellent Clair. Now, go back to one of your earlier childhood memories when your mum said to you, “I may have to love you, but I don’t have to like you”. Talk with your teenager. She is trapped inside you. Inside her own little cave. Be her mother. Tell her she is loved. Tell her how compassionate she became. Help her understand that she is strong, courageous, and safe.

After you talk with her, embrace her in your arms. Do the ten second hug rule that Liv introduced you to. As you embrace, feel your teenage energy merge with yours, now, today, in the present. Feel your teenager come back inside of you. Once you feel the shift within you, make a committed promise to her. Doing this fills the gap in your energy. You are in a firmer, more peaceful state of being. It is then when you can maintain a supported boundary. Love yourself by committing to your promise”.

With Clairity’s instruction in mind, I sat on a park bench, tied Kody to the leg of the bench, then meditated. I imagined my teenage self. I stood before her and stepped up to the plate. I had a heart to heart conversation with her and pulled her back into myself. It was incredibly powerful. I released a heck of a lot of tears, then walked back to Rosie’s house with Kody.

Going forward, my efforts in the house began to wane. I also started to voice my discomfort to Rosie more often. My lack of effort was being noticed. Especially by Rosie’s mum. The egg shells I was walking on were starting to crack.

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

My birthday is an extremely big deal for me. Reason being, my little girl’s ego has felt rejected each year around my birthday. Growing up, my mum and I would be fighting about something ungrateful I was doing. “If you don’t like our rules, get out”, was a yearly message I would receive. The first time my mother kicked me out I was ten years old. It was only a few weeks after meeting the necklace man.

Well, I guess she didn’t technically kick me out. I was given the choice. I heard things like, “you little bitch. Take it out and drown it. Cry more, you’ll pee less. Don’t bring your problems into this house. Stay out of my sight”, often enough from my mum, their rules seemed hard for me to follow.

I have always been someone who stands up for herself. It makes no difference to me when it comes to who I must stand against. The challenge growing up was, I lacked diplomacy with my words. I also tended to speak before thinking. Lesson most definitely learned. Thanks mum, truly.

After moving in with Albert, my first husband, I relinquished my rights to parenthood at his pressured request. I had an abortion on my twentieth birthday. I took a life on the day I was granted life. For the longest time, I didn’t feel worthy of a birthday. It is for this reason I quietly cried each year and told my family to acknowledge my birthday the day before, or the day after, not on May 18th, specifically.

It was Clairity who had reminded me that I was only punishing myself, and that I do in fact have the right to celebrate my year of accomplishments. With her encouragement, I decided to honor my birthday each year. Starting with my forty-eighth birthday year.

As the days were moving closer to my big day, I thought about the previous Christmas, Valentine’s day, and Mother’s day. For Christmas Rosie and his family went to his cousin’s place for a Christmas eve party. I chose not to go because another one of my teeth broke in half just days before. I was embarrassed and didn’t want anyone to see my tooth.

My mouth was also very sore. I spent Christmas eve alone. Rosie and his family arrived home around three o’clock in the morning. For New Year’s Eve we all sat in the living room and watched the countdown. We all hugged, Rosie kissed me for the, perhaps tenth time in our relationship, then we all went to bed to sleep. Good times.

On February 14, 2024, Valentine’s Day, Rosie bought both his mum and I some chocolates and flowers. The difference in the gifts was the color of the flowers.

We were in Costco with the kids. Whilst there we came across a fridge cooler with bouquets of flowers. Rosie opened the door, chose a bouquet and then said, “pick one”, to me. I responded with, “oh no. That’s okay”. The kids looked at me and both encouraged me. “Pick some Clair. What color do you like?”, Alyssa asked. I couldn’t say no to them so I chose a different color bouquet than the ones Rosie picked for his mother.

As I was admiring the beautiful flowers I was holding, I was also thinking, thank you for the effort Rosie. Your lack of sentiment has been dually noted. I didn’t have to rely on Clairity’s insight to see that one. Rosie’s ego was coming closer and closer to the surface. His efforts were waning.

Then mother’s day came. For mother’s day Rosie took us to the same buffet as the one we went to with my children. In this instance, it was beautiful that I was included in his mother’s special day. I was not Rosie’s mother, nor his children’s mother. It was not a day meant for me, yet they acknowledged me anyway. Rosie’s mum was gentle about it as well. With that said, I do pray Rosie gave her something a little special just for her.

With my birthday approaching in a couple of days, I was secretly hoping Rosie would have thought to do something special for me. No such luck.

“What do you want for your birthday?”, Rosie inquired. I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t really thinking of anything in particular, except perhaps a bit of money towards promoting one of my TikTok videos.

I had to ask Rosie for money. Sometimes he would just give me some. I had usually spent the cash money he gave me on feminine hygiene products and treats for his kids. TikTok required online transactions so I had to ask Rosie. Rosie chose the ad campaign and price. He did that for me twice with a price range of about fifty Canadian dollars.

“You need a phone. I can put you on our family plan. Let’s go see if we can find a decent one for you”. I thought, wow, a new phone, cool. I was using a phone that was starting to act wonky. With that, Rosie took me into Montreal to go shopping.

Please excuse my techie ignorance when I explain this part of the story to you.

Rosie took me to a store that sells factory defects models. There may have been new ones in the store as well. If there were, they were on display. Rosie inquired about the factory defective models they kept in the back room. There were two models I was welcome to choose from. I chose the phone with a broken pixel closest to the bottom of the screen. It was easier to ignore that way. After three weeks of having that phone, it went black screen. Rosie replaced it with another small pixel problem phone from the same place. That phone lasted about six weeks. My daughter Liv bought me a new phone to replace that one, right before I left Rosie permanently. I am still using the phone Liv bought me to this day.

I was triggered when Rosie was buying that phone for me. The experience brought me back to our separation days in 2023. Liv was helping me set up a New Brunswick phone number on the second hand phone Rosie had given me. When Liv and I went to Telus to do the change of phone number, the representative informed me that Rosie reported the phone had been stolen.

Rosie identified me as a thief. I was devastated. Thank goodness the representative believed me. Normally I can keep my composure in public. When the lovely lady told me Rosie called me a thief, I instantly bursted into tears. My character is of utmost importance to me. I gave the phone to the woman and left the store with my head bowed down. Liv stepped up and became my safe space once again.

After that triggering flashback, my mind then jumped to a time when we were having sex on the military base in New Brunswick. Rosie snuck me into the soldiers sleeping quarters. They were three, or four storey tall buildings with individual sleeping rooms. There were also family quarters as well.

On this particular night, I was apparently being too loud. It was hard not to be sometimes. Rosie enjoyed being aggressive and often caused me physical pain in the bedroom.

“Be quiet!” Rosie said without opening his mouth too wide. He thrust inside again. I made another sound. It was then when Rosie covered my mouth and said, “shut up or someone will hear you. Shhhh!”.

That’s when I became triggered because of my history with men and said, “stop! Get off me.”

Rosie responded with, “I finish what I start”.

With that, I went numb inside and let him finish what he started. I didn’t leave him after that. I still had to prove I was more than a concubine. I numbed my memory to the experience until it snapped back into my awareness with the surprise of the “stolen phone” claim.

The day arrived, my birthday. I am now in a new decade. I was fifty and pretty damn proud of it. I woke up to Rosie asking me what style of birthday cake I would like? I had no idea. I was, and am still uneducated when it comes to cake. I responded, “I like McCain’s marble cake with chocolate icing”.  You can get those cakes from the freezer section of the grocery store. With that, Rosie ran errands that day. I spent the day with Kody.

Later that evening we had a barbeque dinner. I suggested it because who doesn’t like a good barbie? Rosie, the kids, and I listened to music I enjoyed at the time. Jean was the phone dj. Rosie and his mum did all the cooking. After we finished eating we all went inside for cake. As I sat there admiring the old birthday decorations that were already up from Jean’s birthday the previous September, Rosie said, whilst also holding up a rainbow waxed candle shaped as the number five from the Dollar Store, “five was hard to find today. Lots of people must be getting old and turning fifty”.

I don’t know what bothered me more, his dig at my age, or the fact that he bought everything for my birthday that day. No forethought whatsoever. I had to feed him all the ideas for my day. He couldn’t even bother with buying and putting up some new birthday decorations. Any other birthday would have been fine.  I personally thought a fiftieth birthday would be a little more?

After I blew out the candles, Rosie gave me a birthday card. Inside were the words that came with the card, everyone’s signature, and a fifty dollar bill. It was the same effort and gift my parents had been giving me for twenty-odd years. The fifty dollars came from Rosie’s mum. I know this because when Rosie bought me the defective phone, he said I had best remembered the phone was for my upcoming birthday.

That night Rosie and I were supposed to play dominos like old times. He ended up being preoccupied with his computer learning more about his detailing business. I sat alone in his room and talked with Clairity.

“You are accepting minimal effort. Have you noticed a pattern?”, Clairity inquired.

I needed to know the answer so that I could stop accepting mediocre affection, attention, and recognition, so I opened another door. Every time I opened a door, a new one would appear. Jack was taking me on a grand adventure into the depths of mind, that’s for sure.

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

It was right around the kids’ school spring break, when Liv informed me that her, along with her family, were coming to Montreal for a visit. I hadn’t seen Liv or her babies in seven months. I hadn’t seen any of my family in seven months. I missed them dearly and was thrilled that they were coming.

Liv was going to see her biological father, Albert, and two of her three sisters, in Ontario. I had let Rosie know right away that they were planning to stop in on their way back to New Brunswick. I was hoping we could have the big room cleared for them so that they could stay the night if they chose to. Rosie said it would be fine for them to stay and that we could make room for them.

After a full week’s worth of four hours a day organizing that big living area in the basement, Rosie and his mum decided the new space I made was a good place to pile more stuff. I think that area of the basement remained clear and tidy for about three weeks. It took me a long time and much effort to clean that area. I didn’t even get a thank you or acknowledgment from Rosie’s mum.

Rosie gave me hype when he first saw the cleaned room with a, “wow! good job. It looks good”. I wasn’t about to go through the trouble of doing it again by myself. The room was almost back to the way it was before I organized it. No way, no thank you. Especially since they were the ones who re-cluttered the place. I was hoping Rosie would have offered to help me organize the room again for when my children arrived. No such luck.

I did keep a mental note of Rosie, once again, being okay with creating a mess after I had only just finished organizing. It came by him honestly. His mum was the exact same way. Rosie’s disregard for my efforts were starting to show again. The new mess in that big room had me thinking, “is Rosie changing or simply behaving?”. Clairity whispered, “observe dear. Keep seeing past what you see. Say nothing. Keep observing”. That is exactly what I did.

Liv wasn’t able to give a firm date right away as there were several people involved in her trip arrangements. Everything had to be organized by everyone’s schedule. With that, and since I spoke little french and no creole, I asked Rosie to let his mum know and to invite her. Again, no such luck.

Rosie’s mum was upset with me the day Liv was to arrive. Rosie and I planned to take them to a local, and highly recognized buffet restaurant. Rosie, Rosie’s mum, and I were standing in the kitchen. Rosie was leaning up against the sink. His mum was standing beside him, looking at me. I was standing a few feet away on the other side of the kitchen island. Rosie’s mum’s face was harsh and extremely judgemental.

Rosie’s mum’s face reminded me of when Rosie looked at me with disgust when I went to get in a car lane beside us. I was the designated driver back from a day at a theme park. Rosie fell ill so he wanted me to drive. The Montreal highways are extremely intimidating. Being new to the area, I was hyper focused on the road, whilst relying on Rosie’s directions. Rosie was late to tell me we had an exit off the middle highway lanes. When he said, “get off here”, I panicked. I didn’t see the vehicle in my blind spot when I went to get into the exit lane. I almost side swiped the other car. I looked at Rosie to say sorry and to scold him about the delay in direction. Rosie looked at me with utter disgust. His eyes were pierced, jaw clenched, and his mouth curled in a half smug, downward snarl. His face looked so mean all I could respond with was, “You are looking at me with disgust. What the hell? I don’t know where I am going!?”. Rosie then tutted with his teeth and said, move over now, you have time.

What makes matters worse for me about that day is, not only is his face of contemptuous disgust etched into my brain, Clairity informed me that Rosie was talking with Isabel through text on the bench in the park. I was facing a fear by going on a roller coaster with Rosie’s eldest son to bond with him when Rosie was “fighting a migraine”, talking with his new lady friend. I waited hand and foot on Rosie that day because he “wasn’t feeling well”. I didn’t know that was what he was doing at the time. Clairity told me after I left him permanently.

“What, you don’t invite me? Am I not welcome to join you? You say nothing. Your kids are coming and I am not considered?”. Rosie’s mum said to me in french. I could understand most of it. I wasn’t able to respond to her. I looked at Rosie and said, “you didn’t invite her? I asked you too.” Rosie looked at me whilst still standing beside his mother, as if to say, I ain’t getting involved. “I did tell her”, Rosie responded.

That’s when Rosie’s mum lashed back with, “it is not for him to invite me, it is you.”

My response to her was, “I did invite you, through your son!”

Then I looked at Rosie and said, “do you realize your mum is making this day all about her? You do realize she is attempting to ruin this day for me?”

Rosie didn’t respond. He simply stood there beside his mum saying “there there muffin. Everything is going to be okay”.

Okay, he didn’t really say that. It was most certainly the message I received though. I knew it was a losing game for me so I simply walked away and said, “nope. I am not letting her ruin this for me”.

That night, I saw my babies. My youngest grandchild was only born the previous September. We had a lovely meal, which Rosie graciously and generously paid for. Each person costs about twenty-five dollars a plate at that time. There were five adults to pay for. The five kids were free because they met the “free for kids” criteria.

Rosie paying for the meal for everyone made up for his mum’s awkward behavior in the corner of the table next to the wall. She was pouting the entire time. She offered her initial nice greeting to the kids. Similar to that of the brief greeting she gave me when I first arrived back in August, 2023. She was cordial with a vibe of unwelcoming.

“Niceness does not hide the vibe of inauthenticity. It is highly important you catch what that vibe feels like for you when you experience it. When you can identify it enough, you can use it to your advantage. This is the initial step to take towards seeing beyond what you can see. Couple that acute, self trained, awareness, with a high level discernment so that you can then wisely select your people.

You are the people you associate with the most. Remain aware of this fact. Otherwise you could end up being a flower snared within the vines of an overgrown, long forgotten, garden. Choking in silence, whilst attempting to shine. Your light could go out if you remained obligated to someone just because of a title.

Remain aware of the vibe to maintain a vibrant life. Discern what is the best for you. That may include loving someone from a distance. Especially in times when you are dedicated to healing yourself. One drop of ink can turn water dark. To heal, you must replant yourself into a healthier garden where vibrant roots can grow”. ~ Clairity.

When Rosie’s mum made that day all about her, I became less inclined to remind Rosie and the kids to speak french whilst Rosie’s mum was in attendance with us. I was okay with being uneducated in french. Rosie’s mum on the other hand was pissed when we spoke english.

I can’t say I blame her. She was well into her seventies and didn’t speak english. She felt excluded from her own family. I told Rosie it was important for her to feel included. It seems Rosie secretly, or subconsciously, enjoyed his mum being at odds with me over him. The amount of times I had to remind him and the kids to speak french was countless. It got to the point when Rosie’s mum said to Rosie, “if you all speak english at the dinner table one more time, I will not be joining you for dinner”. She meant it because in July, 2024, she did exactly that. She stopped eating with us.

I believe Rosie kept his mother and I at odds with one another because Rosie would keep the coffee, milk, sugar, and any other food based item that he knows I liked, upstairs in his mum’s kitchen. Everyday, until I finally harped enough, I had to go into his mum’s kitchen to make my morning coffee or to get a bite to eat. I could feel her energy. She didn’t enjoy my taking things without telling her or asking. She also kept a mental note of the amount of sugar and vanilla extract that I used. She spoke to Rosie about it. Rosie didn’t tell me so. I know without knowing. At first Rosie’s mum seemed fine, other than the vitamins incident. Once my children came, she made it very clear that she did not want anything to do with me.

I spoke with Rosie about his mother’s behavior. I told him I felt that I was placed into a competition I did not sign up for. I said firmly, and without ambiguity, that I would not come between him and his mother. I said I would leave before it got to that point. Rosie’s response was, “I am doing my best. I have to please her. I have to please you. I don’t know how to fix this? I am wishing for a way that you two could get along. My mum is getting old Clair. She is set in her ways. Can you understand this?”.

As soon as those words came out of his mouth I thought, oh so I should be okay with being treated like shit? I must respect her because she is older than me? I am to accept disrespect because I am younger than her? That’s a form of entitlement my friend.

What I responded with was, “you are unable to see what I see Rosie”. With that, I got up and went to my usual cubby hole, the bedroom.

The next lovely occasion, meant with sincere sarcasm, was my fiftieth birthday. Rosie wanted a gold star for his efforts. He earned a spot in the time out corner in my mind. An amazing, surrounded with love and appreciation, fiftieth birthday for me!…nope.

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

I walked Kody everyday when I lived with Rosie and his family. He became my little friend. He was such an intelligent dog. Kody made it easy for me to walk him. I was able to successfully, with his help, train him to sit and wait at each crosswalk, before crossing the street. Kody also understood two languages, english, and french. It was also rare that I had to be firm with him to stop pulling me. Having Kody by my side was a gift from the divine.

Spirit knew I was going to need Kody’s companionship. I think that’s the reason my God granted my request for a well trained, four year old, intelligent, gentle temperament, dog. Oh you’re asking for Kody! Coming right up! Poof, there he was. My perfect little companion from spirit.

When we first acquired Kody, Rosie and I would walk him together. As time passed, Rosie was less inclined to come with Kody and I. I was okay with it. I enjoyed, and still do enjoy, my quiet time alone. It’s in my alone time when I hear Clairity the loudest. In my alone time I was also focused on making educational videos, and maintaining a relatively clean house. I did experience twinges of disappointment when Rosie declined my offer of joining us though. I was also okay with it too.

You ever get that? A twinge of disappointment mixed in with a nonchalant view of it? Those little twinges are the signals that grow into a full blown trigger. It is wise to capture them the moment it happens. Otherwise you would end up experiencing compounding emotional PTSD. This is not a clinical term, that I am aware of, when I refer to it as Compounding Emotional Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, C.E.PTSD. It is simply my way of explaining it.

For me, C.E.PTSD is an emotionally charged experience which repeats itself enough to get to the point of uncontrollable and extreme reactions. When a person suffers with naturally placing the underlayers of emotions aside, they create a trigger to remind them of them. A trigger could be as simple as a no response to an invitation. It’s that simple, and that complex.

When I wasn’t alone, I was with Rosie working at his car detailing business with him. I helped him clean the fancy sports cars and luxury vehicles he maintained. At one point he had gotten trained to become certified in car wrapping, in Ottawa, Ontario. Rosie, the kids and I, had all gone to Ottawa over a three day period to support him. The kids weren’t in school at the time so Rosie thought it would be a good idea for all of us to go with him.

I secretly knew he didn’t know what to do for the kids over their summer break. He also knew I would take care of them for him. Rosie also felt his mum would be okay at home alone on the South shore of Montreal. I believe it was towards the end of June, or the beginning of July, 2024? I honestly can’t remember exactly when we went.

I remember when he told his mum we were heading to Ottawa from Thursday to Sunday for Rosie’s professional training. Her response to him was, “what about me? I am supposed to go to the rec center on Friday. Oh nevermind, I will take a bus. Help me figure out the bus route and schedule”. Rosie offered to set up an uber service for her. She declined and was adamant about taking the bus.

Rosie felt guilty. I suspected he would. What I observed in that moment was a little girl ego who feared rejection. Rosie’s mum then manipulated Rosie by making his potential winning moment into her victim moment. “But what about me? Am I not important to you? Does no one think of me?”. If that wasn’t what her inner child was crying about, her energy was most certainly expressing this message within her pain.

As I have mentioned in my previous blog entries, Rosie kept his plate full. I too, often pleaded with Rosie, telling him he had no space in his life for me. I had empathy for Rosie’s mum. I understood her pain from perceived rejection. As much as I had empathy for her, I still clearly recognized her ego. My mum was like that with me.

I can empathize with my mum today because I walked the same loveless path that she did. All three of us, my mum, Rosie’s mum, and me, all suffered from a sense of rejection. It still pains me to know that I am less thought of in my mum’s mind even though I can understand her.

My mum used to complain that my dad rarely did things with her. When I wasn’t attentive enough to her needs, my mum would accuse me of being ungrateful. One memory my mum still holds me in a negative light for is a trip she took me on in September, 2012. It was shortly after my separation with Bill, my second husband. My mum surprised me with a fourteen day Mediterranean cruise. I was excited to go. I trained my body for months leading up to our departure day. I was determined to go on every excursion without cramp getting in my way. I am truly grateful for that experience. I loved everything about the cruise and the places we went to.  I have a dream to this day to go on a cruise with my person some day, thanks to my mum’s gift of adventure.

My mum on the other hand, believes I was not in the least attentive to her, nor grateful. She felt I left her to her own devices more than I did things with her. My father was like that with my mum, so with me also being a smoker like my dad back then, my mum saw my dad in me, rather than me. She accused me of being ungrateful to her. She was being taken for granted by me in her eyes because my dad often took my mum for granted.

What my parents do not know is on one of my walks with Kody, Clairity explained what that trip with my mum was truly all about. My dad is six feet, three inches tall. They had center seats in economy class on a flight from Boston to Venice, Italy. My dad had poor knees. Mine and my mum’s cabin was on one of the lowest decks. It was a small inside cabin with two double bed sized bunk beds. My dad wasn’t comfortable with small confined spaces. It’s what they could afford. My mum wanted the trip. She was bored with her life and needed to get away. My dad didn’t want to go so they thought of “surprising” me as if it was a “gift” for me all along. I may know this, I am still extremely grateful for the trip. I personally loved it.

On a different walk with my good friend Kody, I thought about the trip to Ottawa. Rosie was prideful and looking for reassurance when we were disagreeing on something. “Ottawa was fun wasn’t it? It was a nice mini vacation, right?”. I said yes, when inside I thought, no.

Rosie was gone all day at his training. I enjoyed the day with his children. I took them to a couple of museums so that they could learn some cool things. At one point we were locked out of the car in downtown Ottawa whilst Rosie was a few townships over, closer to Kanata. Rosie had forgotten to give me the car key.

Ottawa had become increasingly rough over the years. Jean, and Alyssa were scared of being down in the city center. They stuck to me like glue, thank goodness. There were intoxicated, and drug addicted people wandering or sitting on the streets. There were used needles on the ground. People were arguing amongst each other. It was an extremely unkind place to be. In a way it felt like the kids and I went through a portal into hell.

The kids and I walked for blocks on end to find some resemblance of a park they could play at. We found one so they were kept occupied and found their childhood laughter again. Other than that, the kids and I went to the mall and ate at the food court. Rosie had to get a ride into Ottawa from one of his classmates. He arrived around 5:00 pm that evening. The kids and I were roaming the streets of Ottawa for almost eight hours. Fun times.

In the evenings we went out to dinner. One night Rosie treated us to a lovely restaurant called “The Mandarin”. I enjoyed it. The kids loved it. Rosie enjoyed it as well as far as I could tell. The other days and nights we ate fast food or the food we had packed to take with us. The rest of the time there, I watched the kids swim in the hotel pool. We all slept together in the same hotel room at night. It was a supportive trip, not a family oriented one in the least.

When Rosie clearly showed signs of needing reassurance that his bare minimum was enough for me, I knew he hadn’t changed. I started to see his inconsistencies and his ego. I could see them because I had set a firm boundary in place. I am worth far more than the bare minimum. In order to set a boundary, you must be willing to see the gaps. I was definitely starting to see the gaps.

When I saw my kids for the first time after nine months, and Rosie’s mum made it all about her, as well as a new woman named Michelle popping into the picture, I started on my silent exit strategy. Jack was once again at my door with a key in hand. The door read “only ask questions you truly want to know the answer to”.

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

“Rosie, come here for a moment please”, I yelled to Rosie from the bedroom. I was sitting on his bed whilst Rosie was at his computer in the living room area.

I don’t think I even looked up when I blurted my request out to Rosie. My eyes were glued to the words on Rosie’s tablet that read, “May 18, 2023, to Isabel, d’accord, ma cheri, from Rosie”.

Rosie had only come to get me on August 08, 2023. I left him the first week of April, 2023. Right after he locked me out for my legs, feet, and hands to cramp up in the freezing cold at night. He decided that was a good punishment for me. Even though I had dedicated eight years of my life to him by that point, that meant nothing to him. His little child’s ego sought revenge. Regardless of him being the sneaky link.

Rosie reached out to me by text for the first time in July, 2023, after that break up. That’s only two months after his conversations with his cheri. Rosie was telling me how much he missed me. When I moved back in with him, he spoke of a street called Marie. Rosie pointed it out as we drove through it the first time in August. He said he had a hard time seeing that street because it reminded him of me.

My middle name is Marie. I thought his sentiment was endearing and confusing. There was a Marie Claire clothing store right on the main road. He had to drive past that store every day, and yet, this did not trigger a “I miss you” memory? I took a mental note of that discrepancy at the time.

How the heck is Rosie able to sleep at night knowing he was calling another innocent woman his love in between those dates?, on my birthday at that. The best compliment I had ever gotten from him was, “hey sexy”. Be it in person or over text. I didn’t like being called sexy to be honest. To me it simply reinforced that I was nothing more than a sex symbol who is desperate to please a man. I guess at that time, the name fit, so I never bothered to correct Rosie.

Today, I would silently recognize the ego in a person who greets me with anything resembling, “hey there sexy”. With that said, back then, I was certainly feeling the pain when I read the words, “ma cheri” coming from Rosie. My little girl inside was crushed. My wiser woman’s ego was pissed.

Rosie didn’t respond to my request for him to come to me with words. He simply stopped what he was doing and came to stand in the doorframe of the bedroom and kitchenette. “Yes. What’s up?”, Rosie asked with his eyes fixated on the tablet.

“Explain this to me please”, I said in a firm, do not bullshit me, kind of voice. I know I can be intimidating when I am seriously pissed. My energy also screams so I know Rosie felt a very uncomfortable vibe coming from me.

“Explain what?”, he asked. I motioned him to come to me with a wave of my hand. He came and sat on the bed. I said whilst pointing at the tablet screen, “I found this. Explain it to me”.

Rosie took the tablet from me to see the screen. “Oh Clair. That was nothing. That meant nothing!”, he insisted. I responded with, “on my birthday Rosie? That was only a little over three months ago! You never called me Cheri. What the hell? You kept this quiet from me. Isabel is the one you were talking with in the bathroom. You were having an affair! I want to go back to Liv’s immediately. I didn’t sign up for this!”.

Rosie’s little child’s ego was at full attention experiencing abandonment all over again. He stood up, started pacing, then collapsed his legs slightly and placed his head on the doorframe. He was crying harder than I was. Actually I wasn’t even crying. I was seeing red.

“Please Clair, don’t do this! We knew it was going to be hard. That’s in the past”, referring to his whirlwind affair with Isabel. Rosie didn’t admit to how long he was with her. Clairity informed me since being away from him permanently, that he had been with Isabel a couple of months before I had found the condoms. They were text flirting, talking on the phone, and hooking up behind my back on the weekends. According to Clairity, they were at the point of having unprotected sex. Rosie wasn’t about to admit to that. He was too focused on manipulating my heartstrings.

“I thought we were having a fresh start? I know I am not at your level of expertise spiritually. I am trying. You know that, right?”

I stopped talking at this point. I did briefly think about his efforts. He was being more affectionate and soft when in my presence. He was also parenting differently, and I no longer had to write his correspondence to his government work, family services, his ex Gemma, or his legal team. He wrote to them well. I only had to edit minor errors. I stroked my own ego by the idea that he put what I was teaching him into practice. My pride for him was also pride for myself. I could see his new found behavior. I was still questioning whether or not he was empowering himself, or if all he was doing was behaving.

I let him have his victim moment. I was also recognizing I am a woman of my word. I did say we could have a fresh start. He got me there. I couldn’t argue his point.

I didn’t recognize it was Clairity guiding me to see the Messenger screen with Isabel. I didn’t connect the dot that Rosie was still hiding things from me and was more than satisfied keeping it that way. Since I am someone who tends to give people the benefit of the doubt, Clairity was making certain I saw the truth. With that, I retracted my words, “I want to go back to Liv’s”. I replaced them with, “you best be completely honest with me going forward. There better be no more surprises Rosie. As it stands right now, I will keep my word to give this reconciliation a proper go. I just need time to process this.”

With that, things calmed down and Rosie became extra attentive.

Over the coming days I was heavily thinking about the words “ma cheri”. I spoke with Liv about it. Liv explained to me that men will use whatever words they think a woman would want to hear. When I told Rosie what she explained, Rosie gleefully said, “yes, exactly. See, it meant nothing”.

Clairity also whispered, “he also changes loving names so that he can keep track of who is who without having to risk a real name slippage”.

Clairity made more sense to me. I kept my conversation with Clairity quiet. Instead I simply acknowledged the “meaningless” to it all.

My mind then drifted to the many horrid birthdays I have had over the years. Rosie knew my birthdays were usually kinda shitty. Him knowing that made his text to his cheri all that more painful. As my mind wandered back to the text, Clairity reappeared in my awareness.

“Clair, you are triggered by your birthday. You begin to manifest a challenge on your birthday long before the event. You do it every year. What are you truly punishing yourself for?”.

Excellent question once again.

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

I wasn’t planning to write a blog entry today. I was planning to unwind with a light TikTok viewing, then cozy up for sleep with thunderstorms playing in my ear. I love the sound of rain when I am drifting off to sleep. Seems Clairity has other plans.

I had adopted a new routine as of late. After every blog entry I go for a meandering walk around a large residential area. I use that time to decompress and reflect on my progress. As well as give my thanks to the divine, and myself. It’s a team effort after all. I also use that time to admire the Christmas lights and breathe in the crisp cleansing air. Tonight was different in a way, and somewhat challenging.

I walk slowly due to some loud talking hips I’m carrying. My hips need some greasing up I think?  Something’s up with them. Anyway, in addition to the hips, I recently broke my baby toe, again. I’ve been nursing a broken toe for three days now. Today was my first day of being able to limp-ish my way around the block. As I have mentioned before, I have a stubbornly high tolerance for pain, both emotionally and physically. Currently I lean towards my big toe inside my boot to compensate for the broken baby toe.

This evening, as I approached the crosswalk with a broken sensor for the blinking lights, I kept my hands in my pockets. It’s a wee bit chilly out there tonight. I didn’t bother to press the metal sensor to ignite the flashing lights. I knew the button sensor wouldn’t pick up my finger press. The first time that happened, I thought to myself, or perhaps I said it to Liv?, “damn that’s going to be a challenge at night for people who walk slowly like me. Cars are going to have a hard time seeing us”. The universe must have thought I was calling in an experience because low and behold, manifestation incoming.

As I reached the middle island of the crosswalk a man came up in his SUV with cars behind. As he went to make a left to cross over the crosswalk, he held up his middle finger at me and yelled, “you arrogant bitch. You can’t even press the lights. Nope, you just walk across like you own the place!”.

I said loud enough for him to hear, “sir the crosswalk lights are broken”. To which he responded with, “fuck you. I otta turn around and…”, his voice started trailing off. I responded back by saying, “I pray you continue to have a day you deserve”. Then I turned back towards the decline I was on and kept on hobbling.

After that moment, I had to acknowledge the adrenaline rush I was experiencing. I also had to acknowledge the anxious awareness I was in. I thought to myself, “Clair, you’ve done it again. You’ve blurted out the truth and stood up for yourself. Now you may have pissed off a large man who is considering teaching you a lesson”. That thought kept me hyper alert. For the next three headlights sneaking up on me I thought, “oh shit, that could be him”. Then I heard Clairity speak.

“Clair, are you allowing him to keep your energy?, or, are you taking it back?”. I thought, right, that’s my energy friend. I take mine back. I do that by focusing on what I can learn from this. You sir, you can keep your energy. I wish you the best of luck with it”.

People are quick to make assumptions, I thought.

“Clair, first of all, the man thought better of it. He didn’t turn around. Second, Clair, do you see the importance in withholding judgment until you receive enough clear information to discern a person wisely? Do you see clearly how his projection of who you are to him, shows he is quick to point fingers? He decided who you were before you even spoke. What benefit was it to explain that the lights were broken?”.

Good question Clairity asked, as always. What was the reason for telling him the lights didn’t work? It was for my benefit, not his. He wasn’t listening anyway. My ego wanted to be heard.

Ah yes, that goes back to my mother’s words, “that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble”, and my father’s words, “Clair you are naive”.

“Yes that is true Clair. In addition to that, you have experienced many people speaking ill of you behind your back. You know this. Your teenager inside wants to defend you because, with the exception of your children, no one has defended your character”.

Yes, that is also true. People judging me quickly had been a common experience for me, so was hearing about the shitty things people have said about me. My dad, nor any of my partners in love, have defended me against injustice. Interesting indeed. In addition to that realization, and if I were brutally honest, I also feel the urge from time to time to call a person an asshole without using the word. It’s an ego stroke. What can I say?

“Clair, what can you take away from this experience? Remember, even a small exchange like this is a teaching and learning moment. You were a symbolic teacher for him to see his impulsive judgement and actions. His was your symbolic teacher helping you reinforce the importance of remaining silent. Let him vent. Wish for him a day he is entitled to. Recollect your energy and say thank you for the pop quiz. Think of yourselves like being substitute teachers. You popped into each other’s classrooms for a moment then popped back out. It’s up to you what you do with the experience”.

I choose to recognize the importance of valued time and energy. If educating someone is simply for my ego’s sake, then it is of little long term value for me. I also recognize I am a woman walking alone at night. A little street smarts can go along way. I pray you, my awesome reader, choose to see your adversaries as your teachers, not your enemies. I also pray you are already smart and aware within your surroundings, always.

Oh yeah, ma cheri. Oh what a time. Hold Judgment 101 complete. Now back to History Repeating 101. Learning never stops, only alters in speed.

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

After recognizing Rosie’s mum’s energy was similar to that of my mother’s, I kept my defenses up with her. I became increasingly cautious around her. I remained cordial and spoke french with her when I felt comfortable enough to do so. The only french I knew was from back in my high school days. Outside of that, it was UK English for me. I also knew I had unknowingly signed up for a competition for the title, “Lady of the House”. I had no plans on competing. It seems Rosie and his mum had other plans in mind. Let the mind games begin!

As I mentioned in the previous post, I was also set on fitting into the family by contributing to the home the best way I knew how. I lightened their load.

First I started to unbox and organize the large living, kitchen, bathroom area on the other side of the basement. There were boxes in there as far as the eye could see. It took me over a week of at least four hours a day, decluttering that room. I managed to find a spot for about ninety percent of their stuff. Whilst I was organizing, Rosie was out and about. He was either at his physiotherapy and massage sessions, or at a dental, or, mental health appointment. If he wasn’t doing that, he was working on his new found passion detailing cars, or dealing with legal and family services issues.

Life went back to normal. Only this time, I had to emotionally manage five people in a house. Two grown adults and two soon to be teens, plus me.

After I finished organizing the big room, I moved into painting the front entrance walls and staircase. I was set on proving to Rosie’s mum that I was not an interloafer. I painted the entire front entrance with the exception of the really high areas I couldn’t reach. I had left that for Rosie to do. I wonder today if he did ever end up finishing the painting in that area?

If I wasn’t cleaning the house, organizing, or hanging out with Rosie’s kids, I was with Rosie doing Rosie things.

From August, 2023 through to the end of September, 2023, Rosie and I discussed big plans. We were actively co-manifesting a new home together. We also tapped into the tarot. Rosie asked if he and I were going to get married in 2024. The cards said no. I bet he had a sigh of relief inside when the cards highlighted the answer.

I also relinquished my disagreement to another dog. Rosie wanted the full happy family picture. I remembered the work I had done with the other two dogs, Duke I and Duke II, so at first I had said no. I said to Rosie, “if we were to get another dog, I would be the one who has to take care of him. He best be somewhere around four or five years old, fully trained, and have a gentle temperament.

Kody arrived within about a week of me saying that. Kody was a four years old, fully trained, and beautiful to be around, Pomsky. A Pomsky is a Pomeranian and Husky mix. He was the perfect size for me. Someone at Rosie’s work knew someone who was moving back to the Middle East. Kody needed a new home. Kody became my friend right from the first day of getting him. I loved Kody. After all, God filled my order perfectly. What’s not to love?

Rosie and I also discussed ways to advance his new car detailing business. I focused on continuing to create videos on TikTok. My goal was to get the knowledge I have about ego conditioning recognized. I was also educating people on spiritual matters which included deciphering dreams, and spirit consciousness. It was a crapshoot in the dark. I was winging it. Kind of like the way I am now, writing these blogs on a hope and a prayer. The difference this time is, I can hear Clairity loud and clear on a daily basis. Having Clairity has helped me to streamline my thoughts. I trust her guidance through my intuition. Rosie was winging it when it came to his business as well. His challenge is the fact that he didn’t know how to listen to his wise voice inside.

One day, Rosie informed me that we were invited to a wedding. What that meant was, Rosie’s mum was invited to a wedding. Rosie was her driver and companion for the night. If my memory serves me correctly, the wedding took place some time in October, 2023. I was invited because it would have been uncomfortable for Rosie had he not done so.

Rosie took me to a massive indoor market on the Southside of Montreal to buy a new dress for the special occasion. I do enjoy markets. This particular market was Rosie’s go to for his fancy clothes. There was a particular booth with a highly knowledgeable and tasteful tailor. Rosie loved bartering with him in particular. Rosie would leave with a new flashy button up shirt with a big ole grin on his face. He took great pride in his appearance and in how much he saved through his savvy ways. Rosie’s closets were packed full of shirts from that particular booth. Both in the bedroom closet and the coat closet in the living area.

The market near Montreal was also the same market where Rosie bought me a stunning dress back in the year 2021. It wasn’t a suitable dress for a wedding. It’s more for an elegant evening out, or perhaps a fancy party? I’m actually not certain where I would wear the dress. I haven’t exactly lived a fancy life. The royal blue, floor length gown, with cascading gold and silver beading seems out of place in my life at present. I am determined to wear the dress proudly when it’s time though. Especially if I am standing beside a man who genuinely loves me whilst wearing it. Hell yeah, that would be satisfying for my ego.

Being back inside that market stung me a little bit. The reason for my slight twinge was the fact that the price tag was still on the dress he bought back in 2021. The price tag is still on that dress to this day. I have had that dress rolled up inside my suitcase since 2021. Rosie couldn’t seem to find the time nor creativity in making an occasion for me to wear it. What he did have time for, was to get me a decent dress, stat. My wardrobe consists of more second hand clothing and summer dresses. They were not qualified as worthy for a special event in October.

Whilst Rosie was bartering with his special market friend, he told me to wander off and pick out some dresses I liked. As I perused the labyrinth of stalls that seemed to go on for miles, I came across a beautiful salmon coloured dress. It was form fitting with a plunging neckline and had a respectable length to just past my knees. I went back to Rosie so that I could take him to the dress stall to see what my eye had caught.

“It’s nice. Go put it on. See if you like it”, Rosie suggested. With that, I went into the curtained off dressing room. I came out to show Rosie the dress on me. He looked up and down and said, “do you like it?”. I said yes. I did like it.

I am not exactly a fashionista. I have no idea if it truly looked good on me, or if Rosie was simply being polite. The reason I say that is because, when Rosie looked at me in the dress, his energy shifted. I could feel criticizing projections towards me. I could sense his judgment of my body. He also was quick to say, “you need to eat. I’ve got to feed you.”

This shift in energy then woke the little girl in me who used to question my physical beauty. I was insecure in that dress. After we bought the salmon dress, Rosie bought me some gold sparkly thinly heeled sandal shoes. They looked lovely and complimented the dress beautifully. I wore both the dress and the shoes once in my life, which was at the wedding.

On the night of the wedding, Rosie had asked his mum to borrow a broach. I was encouraged to place the broach between my breasts to reduce the amount of cleavage the dress was showing. As soon as I put the broach on I heard Clairity say, “are you dressing for you?, or, are you dressing to please others?”.

I knew I was dressing to please Rosie and his mum. They didn’t want me to give their community the wrong impression of them. Fair enough. I played along.

The wedding experience highlighted how little Rosie interacted with people. Both Rosie and his mum were cordial. Rosie introduced me to a couple of people. Rosie’s mum didn’t say a word to me all evening. It was pleasantly awkward. It wasn’t terrible enough for me to say anything though. I was still committed to fitting in with the family.

That was until I was on Rosie’s tablet one night. I was navigating something or other when I came across Rosie’s opened Messenger app. Right there, in front of my face, was the name Isabel. Beside her name was a text bubble from Rosie reading “d’accord, ma cheri”.

In the event you do not speak french, ma cheri translates into my love in english. Not only did it read ma cheri, the text bubble was sent by Rosie to Isabel on my birthday in the month of May of that year. On May 18th, Rosie called Isabel ma cheri. The best I got from Rosie was Sexy. August 08 of that same year, he’s wearing a lion head shirt and a top of the morning to ya, skip in his step, proclaiming his love for me. I was devastated seeing that. What the fuck! Ma cheri, on my birthday?! Rosie you have some serious explaining to do!

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

When I first arrived at Rosie’s, their place was crammed with boxes and loose items within every empty room. As well as tucked in corners out of the way. It was perfectly understandable. Rosie had let me know they had only just moved in on the first of August. I only arrived a week later.

In hindsight, I recognize that if Rosie was truly making an effort to commit to me, he would have voiced his requirements to organize his home before coming to get me. His home being the way it was indicated his continued impulsiveness in his decision making. There is no rush in a lifetime commitment. Time could easily have been allowed  for organization to create a warmer sense of welcoming. It seems Rosie wanted me back quickly.

There is a red flag here. When someone who says you are a priority to them, comfortably welcomes you into their chaos, like it is no big deal, you are likely not on their priority list. What is on their priority list is your empathy and impulse to help them. Subconscious or not, this is what Rosie’s ego was asking of me.

Rosie made little effort when it came to attentiveness towards me. When it came to Rosie wanting to enter my world, his projection read “do not enter” written across my forehead. When it came to entering his world of illusion, my projection read “welcome aboard, figuratively and literally. Enter at your own risk”.

When Rosie, Rosie’s mum, and Rosie’s two kids, Jean and Alyssa, moved in, both Rosie and his mum had brought all of their own apartment collectibles. Each room was filled with both his mother’s cherished items as well as Rosie’s. I was thinking, shit, this is going to take some work to organize.

My people pleasing to-do list was firmly in hand. Repeating a toxic habit? Check! Repeating an unhealthy pattern sure does sneak up on us sometimes. I didn’t identify my people-pleasing ways right away. Living with Rosie and his family certainly helped me figure it out.

I’m confident Clairity was thinking I wasn’t off to a good start on my discernment training. From almost day one I was already planning a way to help them in my mind. I was figuring out the best way I could contribute to the household. In what ways could I be an awesome spouse, lover, mother, and daughter-in-law, in the event Rosie and I were meant to be together over the long term?

I recognize clearly where my tendency to please people came from. It has much to do with my relationship with my parents. Throughout this blog series you may discover hidden patterns within you too. Self centeredness, and the polar opposite, people pleaser, have an extremely challenging pattern to break. Once the toxic pattern is identified, it must be corrected and reinforced daily. Similar to that of a recovered from addictions patient. Relapse can happen.

One of my unhealthy beliefs was the idea that I was nothing more than a burden. To this day, my little girl’s ego requires my attention and consistent reassurance that I am not a burden. That I do in fact offer great value. Regardless of any financial transactions or abundance, which may have been lacking in my life.

Money is wonderful. The service, the love, the passion, the authenticity of self expression, and loving contributions without expectations in return, for me, are far more valuable. I was off balance when I was perceiving the blessing of money alongside the blessing of genuine kindness. At one time money was the enemy. Love was the only way. Today I can recognize the beautiful harmony in a balanced union of love and money.

With that in mind, I can identify that money buys items and travel experiences. Authentic love provides valued support and a place our inner child feels safe to be in. Both must be honored with equal reciprocity. Otherwise, valued people like me leave money valued thinkers like Rosie. They both ultimately experience being alone and lonely. Who wins at the end of that? Both a money driven thinker and the loving minded thinker are left separated and lonely. If not separated and lonely, they end up attached inside a toxic love and lonely. Similar to that of my parents.

To give a glimpse into my parents dynamic it can be summed up nicely in this reflection. My dad’s nickname from my mother was arsehole. My father called my mother madam. My parents also made fun of each other’s physical appearance. My dad referred to my mum’s legs as sparrow legs. My mum made fun of my dad’s legs by calling them knock-kneed. I rarely, if ever, saw my parents being physically affectionate. Public displays of affection were out of the question. My father would always walk ten steps in front of my mum. When he was drinking he would be obnoxious and made fun of her in the presence of others. If it wasn’t my mum he was making fun of, it was me or my brother. If it was neither my brother nor I, he was talking behind someone’s back. Mocking them in some way or another.

People irritated my dad more often than not. My mum would feed my dad’s energy by also contributing to two-faced ness. They both talked about other people in a poor light. It’s the main reason I detest it when a person says one thing only to then do something else. Including talking smack behind someone’s back. It’s horrid in my perception.

My dad did eventually quit drinking. It took many years for my mother to call him out for being an alcoholic. My dad’s drinking and smoking were a hot topic of arguments back in the day. “Smoke another”, my mum would say after my dad’s coughing attack. Basically, my parents had a strange way of expressing love towards one another.

My exposure to their interesting dynamic over fifty years created a hard expectation of what a committed relationship was like. I was trained to accept being treated like shit by being placed on the back burner, through my mum’s acceptance of my dad’s behavior. My dad trained me on managing my expectations as it related to the way men thought of me and loved me.

I am not certain if learning acceptance of love from the feminine influence and learning what you can expect from love from the masculine influence, is the same for everyone during their impressionable years. What I am certain of is, that’s how I came to perceive love. My dad taught me what to expect. My mum taught me what to accept.

I had thought of Rosie’s mum on the drive back to Montreal. I hadn’t lived with a mother in decades. I also only knew one mother, my own. I felt I had to walk on egg shells more often than not growing up. I was combating the fear of having to walk on eggshells again with Rosie’s mum. Rosie had assured me that his mum was welcoming of all people. He said she was very caring, generous, and held no racism within her. Rosie had explained that his mum would send much of her money to Haiti to help their extended family. He also let me know that his mother was considered to be a highly respected elder in their community. I’m not sure if that helped me feel more at ease, or if it heightened my nervousness. I suspect it was the latter.

The first couple of days were warm and inviting. Rosie said I was welcome to anything, including the vitamins upstairs to help my body strengthen. I was extremely thin when I first arrived there. My body mass was disproportionate to my height. I was excited by the idea of having vitamins. Unfortunately I was wrong to assume his mother was of the same welcoming mind as Rosie’s.

It was around the third day of being there when Rosie’s mother corrected my thinking. I had gone upstairs into the kitchen to get a vitamin. Rosie’s mum was standing in front of them. As I approached, Rosie’s mum grabbed the container of vitamins and said in french, “these are for the children not for you”. She then placed them to the other side of her outside of my reach. My first thought was damn, what did I do? It was at that moment I knew upstairs was her home. My place was in the basement.

Clairity responded to my instant thought with, “what is the familiarity in energy Clair? See past, what you see”.

As soon as I heard her whisper that to me, I connected a dot. Rosie’s mum’s energy is similar to that of my mother’s. I was most definitely walking on eggshells again. After that association I thought, what the hell did I just get myself into. Not only was I repeating a pattern, I moved back in with my mother! Talk about history repeating itself. I landed right back into day one.

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

When Rosie arrived at Liv’s place on August 08, 2023, to bring me back to Montreal, he was proudly wearing a shirt he had bought online for the occasion. The shirt displayed two lion heads. One of the lions had dark fur, representing Rosie. The other lion had blond fur, I assume to represent me. Both lions were touching forehead to forehead. The shirt looked stunning on Rosie.

I quietly noted he must have done a little homework about the lions gate portal before picking me up. Rosie knew I saw myself as more spiritual. I know little about the planetary systems nor star systems. I do know a fair bit about reading energy. I am becoming increasingly stronger at reading the unseen as I continue on my life journey.

I also noted that he bought one lions gate portal shirt instead of two. I found that interesting. Did he buy his shirt as a symbol of his bond with me to soften me up to him?, but also chose a symbol vague enough that any potential side woman wouldn’t know what it meant? Like an inside joke between us sort of thing? Was he avoiding the possibility of people recognizing we had the same shirt on at any time during our public outings? Was that too high of a risk for him? Is that the true reason for not buying me a shirt too? Or, was Rosie simply only thinking of Rosie? He did that a fair bit.

Perhaps he had concerns about potentially bumping into a woman he knew, or one he wanted to know? If we were both wearing the same shirt that would be awkward. Was he still on different dating apps? My curious mind wanted to know. My intelligent mind kept my curiosity quiet. Clairity had advised it was best to observe more and speak less. Speak when required. Listen when required. When neither speaking nor listening are required, observe. See past what you see.

Instead of inquiring about Rosie’s choices when it came to his shirt and new greeting, I smiled and kept a mental note. My heart was not fully open to him and I knew I was with someone highly intelligent.

With that, I also acknowledged his shirt and recognized how lovely it was. I also acknowledged that I said I was willing to forgive with both of us making a committed effort. The commitment I was willing to make was “let’s test the waters. I make no promises to stay. Not right now anyway”.

Rosie knew the plan for me to move in with him was under stricter terms. I told him I held the right to leave any time, if ever I felt we were unhealthy. I told him trust must be built not forced. Rosie agreed with the terms and said he would get me back to Liv’s if ever it came down to that. He said he knew the reconciliation would be hard and that he was absolutely committed to making things right.

Rosie was a man of big insinuated promises, not a man of committed tangible outcomes. I came to that conclusion when I fully awoke from the illusion in August of 2024.

One thing I can acknowledge about Rosie was when he was interested in learning something, he soaked the information in like a sponge. I suspect today, Rosie followed a few spiritual practicing influencers on TikTok. Rosie knew I knew how to read cards, decipher dreams, and understood some universal laws. Rosie also echoed many of my own teachings he had learned from me online as well. He admitted to watching my TikTok videos.

The challenge with Rosie was he only displayed interest in my interests when the information offered him insight about his circumstances. Rosie wasn’t necessarily interested in learning how to better himself with the information. Nor was he interested in entering my world. He was only encouraging me to enter his. It’s for this reason, him showing up whilst wearing a lions gate portal shirt, and said “grand rising” to me, threw me off a wee bit.

Was Rosie learning for him?, or, was he learning for me? I can’t say I have ever used the words “grand rising” before. I know some tarot readers on TikTok used that greeting. Me on the other hand, no. I usually say “good day” as my greeting.

The first thing that popped in my mind when Rosie said “grand rising” to me was, “who the hell are you and what did you do with Rosie?” Him saying grand rising felt inauthentic and weird. The vibe felt off. A chameleon perhaps?

Rosie was very good at implementing strategic changes at the onset of a new challenge. Unfortunately he had less ambition to sustain a consistent effort with these insightful learnings. Going to Montreal was going to prove what Clairity had been nudging me to see. The question, can Rosie truly be trusted and is he actually a man of his word? That’s what I was determined to find out and that was what my graduation year was all about.

I didn’t ignore the red flags so much as I stacked them in a corner of my mind to revisit later with my professor, Clairity. I refrained from weakly placed accusations or questions towards Rosie since I had little to no evidence. As per usual, I withheld my judgment until I was satisfied with what I had to come to know.

The drive to Montreal was pleasant. We talked about how the kids were going to be excited to see me. We kept me coming back a secret from them. I preferred it that way because I was more uncertain than I was certain about being with Rosie again. I also didn’t speak with the kids whilst I was gone because I didn’t want Rosie to use his kids as a weapon against my soft heart.

When I left the first time back in 2020, Rosie had his son Jean talking with me over Messenger. My love for Jean made it easier to deal with Rosie’s chaos. Rosie knew that and I knew Rosie knew that. I wasn’t about to let that slide in 2023. So with that, a surprise entry into their home was in order.

When I arrived the kids came to the door. “Clair! You’re here! How? Why? Are you staying?!”.

I hadn’t even gotten one foot inside the house. The kids were genuinely surprised and happy to see me. Since I knew Rosie spoke with his children about two of his infidelities, I said “your dad is fixing the situation. Your dad is owning up to his actions. Remember what I told you. Rather than judge a person based on their past”. Jean interrupted and finished the statement with, “judge them based upon what they have learned about themselves because of their past”. Exactly!

When I entered the front foyer of the split entry house, Rosie’s mum was standing at the top of the stairs. “Bonjour Clair. Bienvenue”, she greeted.

Before Rosie took me on the grand tour of his and his mother’s home, Rosie got my luggage case, my memory chest, and the plastic shelving I had taken from Liv’s out of the car and brought them downstairs. I didn’t have much so it took about five minutes to grab everything.

With that, my arrival went smoothly. The coming days on the other hand were a wee bit of a shock to say the least. There was also a familiar song playing quietly in the background of mind. “Hi hoe, hi hoe, it’s off to round three of  work I go”. Only this time I wasn’t the outside hoe breaking up a marriage. I was the inside hoe pretending to be loved.

I may not have known I was being recruited to be a glorified house maiden with sexual benefits. Clairity sure did, and boy did she stay by my side during this rollercoaster ride.

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

I didn’t catch all those clues in the audio Rosie sent me. Wisdom is often acquired through hindsight. I see all the puzzle pieces today. Back then, I placed too much hype on Rosie’s courage to confess some of his infidelity. I knew confessing to anything would have been extremely challenging for Rosie. Rosie rarely apologized unless he felt cornered. He also had placed great importance on what other people perceived of him. I also know Rosie’s children are the world to him.

There is no question Rosie loves his children. For him to admit fault impressed me. My people pleasing ego over exaggerated Rosie’s efforts to be completely honest with his entire family. So much so, I chose to be blind to his lack of full disclosure.

Today, I recognize Rosie did not tell his mum the truth of our separation. Rosie did not admit to all his undertakings. Nor did he acknowledge all that I did for him in the way of his legal issues, family affairs, and some of his employment dealings. His mum was oblivious to all the behind the scenes correspondence I wrote for him, so were his children. Rosie’s mother wasn’t even in attendance when Rosie made his recorded confessionals with his children.

I suspect no one in his close circle knew of the written work I did for him. Rosie also didn’t divulge the guidance and education time I offered both his children, whilst keeping his home organized. I also know today, Rosie has yet to divulge the truth to anyone about anything I lovingly did for him. Rosie took what I did for him for granted. Therefore he would not have the forethought to tell others the full scope of my efforts.

My people pleasing ego gave Rosie the candy freely and willingly. It would have been unfair of me to expect him to share that candy with anyone. That candy being “please be the hero I see in you Rosie. Keep going on the truth, path! You can do it! I’ll help you anyway I can. You don’t have to be fully truthful right now. I see your minimal effort and am willing to glorify it for you. No worries.” 

All those thoughts were wrapped up in a candy wrapper labeled, fear of abandonment.

We are all children walking inside bigger bodies. Rosie and I are no exception. My little girl’s ego still craved proof that some other person outside of me could love me. My little girl needed to prove that I could be accepted for me rather than simply because of what I could do for them. At the time, the person my fragile and hurt little girl latched onto was Rosie. I could see the potential hero, not the Rosie he truly was. Today I have a high enough level of discernment to see him clearly. Cheers for hindsight, for it is a powerful gift indeed!

Perhaps that may be part of the reason Clairity encouraged me to blog. It seems I am being guided to be a form of whistleblower? Lots of truths around the world are being brought to light these days. Whatever the reason, blogging is certainly therapeutic and highly rewarding. Even if I am currently writing for free.

I’m no pro at this. I can recognize that. I love that you compassionately overlook my typos and erroneous grammar and formatting errors. I love you for being that person. Thank you my awesome reader, sincerely.

The day came when Rosie was at my door. Ready to whisk me away back to Montreal. It was August, 08, 2023. The lions gate portal. According to some astrologers the lions gate portal is powerful. I suspect that’s true because this portal sure took me on a ride.

My Jack was already down the swirling purple and blue hued rabbit hole proclaiming, “it’s time, it’s time, to keep your boundaries and self love aligned. Can you do it? Can you see far? Can you see past what you see? Can you still honor the truth in who you are?”.

I didn’t realize I was entering my graduate year. Spirit on the other hand knew exactly what it was I was about to learn. Powerful and insightful stuff indeed.