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(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Mature subject matter. Reader discretion is advised. 18+)

The next five days living inside Rosie’s apartment was scary and intense. I quieted myself and told Rosie I will respect his wishes when it came to telling his children I was leaving. I felt like I was walking on eggshells the entire time. It was a living nightmare.

Rosie had both of his children, Jean and Alyssa, living with us at the time of Rosie’s condoms slippage. When I first moved in with Rosie full time it was in July 2021. We were fighting for custody of Alyssa at that time. As previously mentioned, I had returned to Rosie’s place for doctor appointments. It was after I had securely locked Wendy’s and Carla’s, (from 2020), names, deep inside my mind’s forbidden closet. Never to venture open again. When I returned to Montreal in July, 2021, it was over a year after learning of Wendy. Wendy’s name was still whispering to me from time to time. With that said, this time, I chose to stay until the day of the big condom reveal. My divine team, who guides me to this day, had decided the time to illuminate the truth for me was on condom day. I was discouraged from ignoring the truth any longer. I was unable to deny the physical evidence presented before me. The truth had to come out.

Today, I also know Rosie wasn’t sleeping with neither Wendy nor Carla when I found the condoms. He was busy having an affair with an unsuspecting woman named Isabel, and with an even less enlightened woman named Michelle on the side. I was at home innocently helping Rosie’s children learn to cope with everyday stresses. I also maintained a clean home and tended to Rosie’s needs.

No wonder Rosie was on edge most of the time. He was surely in high demand. Rosie was a metaphorical one man, pole standing, hoe, with a mission to remain on guard in the form of an “erection at attention”. Instead of his hand solute, he had a one eyed willy solute on the daily.

Base camp hands-on training for Rosie in high risk territory. Check!

Hindsight, it’s a beautiful thing. With that said, I chose to keep rose colored glasses on when it came to Rosie’s true character back then. Hence the name “Rosie”.

My higher awareness gave him the name Rosie. My ego self was inspired by the thought of Rosie during a series known as Rosewood. Rosewood’s main character’s moniker was Rosie, which was short for his last name, which was Rosewood. This character had a certain ego which reminded me of my Rosie. With that, I fondly called him Rosie as we watched the series together.

The universe has a wild sense of humor. Just one showing of Rosewood and then a little inspirational whisper in my ear. Voila, a symbolic message was born. The divine, and my higher self, were informing me to be aware that I was wearing rose colored glasses when it came to the man I was giving my sacred energy to.

My guides gave me a huge hint by referring to Rosie as Rosie. Their message was right in front of my face the entire time. I was hearing the name Rosie and saying Rosie’s name everyday. We had both worn glasses. How ironic.

When I moved into Rosie’s place the first time in 2021, his son Jean was the only one living with him. Alyssa, Rosie’s daughter, who is nine months younger than Jean, was living with her mother within the city limits of Montreal. Alyssa moved in with Rosie, Jean, and myself, after a horrific event that took place between her and her mother’s boyfriend. If my memory serves me well, it was April, 2022, when Alyssa came to stay with us. She was with us until the courts could decide everyone’s fate. 

Rosie, Jean, and I, were living in a two bedroom apartment in a small military community outside of the city limits called St. Hubert. We all lived there together. Right up until my departure after the condoms revelation in 2023.

Both of Rosie’s children were wedged between to highly toxic parents. Parents who both had a low EQ and a rather high IQ from my perspective. The children were brought together each weekend whilst remaining separated during the week. They were tossed around like a boomerang in an infinite loop. Being sent back and forth from home to home, with their parents providing little focus on creating joy with them. Where is safety when there is little to no joy? I can’t imagine Rosie’s children had ever truly felt safe. I know this all too well.

It was definitely heartbreaking to witness. The courts felt that it was best to keep the children separated because they had already been separated since moving to Quebec. Rosie and Gemma had chosen to live in separate apartments with each parent having to raise one of their children each full time.

Rosie’s children began to live apart from one another around the spring of 2018. I remember Rosie asking me if he should take Jean or not. I told him to do what he thought was best. I was a bit confused by Rosie’s trepidation. Rosie is Jean’s dad. Why would he even question whether or not to take him? This of course was not a big enough red flag for me. I may be intelligent. I can also be rather thick headed at times.

With that, the courts ruled in favour of the children’s mother to maintain custody of Alyssa in her home.  Whilst Rosie was to maintain custody of Jean in his home.

One of the major challenges in the outcome of this court rule was the fact that both parents knew how to manipulate, and twist, and or, omit facts when honesty was truly required. It didn’t really seem to matter with whom they had spoken to, including me. Both Rosie and Gemma played a game of a test of wills when it came to their ability to deflect blame, or to accept any form of personal accountability. Accountability was a hot potato for them. It was too hot to touch. I was playing too. I just had no idea that I was.

The children were in constant witness to emotional, mental, and sometimes physical abuse between their parents. The children were also involved in unsafe circumstances with their mother’s boyfriend at the time as well. Jean had been hit and Alyssa was supposedly spied on whilst in the shower. Gemma, had also threatened to call the police on me in front of the children on more than one occasion. Gemma liked making  idle threats. She seemed proud to show her children this fact as well.

Jean and Alyssa had lived in constant fear. Gemma had a challenge with accepting that I was created to breathe, and that my choice to stand on a street in Montreal was legal. Gemma had no empathy nor did she have compassion when angry, which was often.

Rosie was ignorant towards emotional empathy. Gemma was ignorant to emotional empathy and physical safety. The children didn’t feel fully safe and accepted with either of them. My heart was tied to those beautiful babies tightly.

I had a soft spot for Rosie’s babies. I still do. With that said, the rose colored glasses I was wearing hadn’t come off when it came to Rosie, so I bonded with his children perhaps a little too much. Keeping a blind eye to Rosie’s character made accepting his children in my life easier, and more painful in the end. In my mind, Rosie was doing the best he could within what he could rationalize and understand, and within the circumstances he had found himself in. In my mind, if I am to love Rosie, then I accept and love his children. Drama and all. They were a package deal.

Rosie may have insulated my intelligence. I underestimated Rosie’s smarts too. Hypocrisy, lesson learned. Even now Rosie is an awesome teacher for me. I am continuing to learn a great deal about myself. Rosie was my catalyst for change. That’s honorable in my mind. Painfully shitty, and honorable.

Sadly, I also think Rosie used my heartfelt emotions and high morals with his children against me to keep me around. He would ask me my thoughts and opinions on ways to deal with his ex and his children. At times Rosie had me writing the text responses to his ex from his phone. I would pretend to be him so that the authorities thought Rosie was proactive and respectful. I was Rosie’s mask.

Rosie also vented to me often. He Believed it was possible that his children were harmed when at their mother’s, or, that they may have been secretly working against him for their mother. All conversations that had been between Rosie and I had created a strong motherly reaction within me to stay and protect his children through a loving, educational approach.

Rosie knew how to pull at my heartstrings. He was another form of ‘Necklace Man’ with charm and a smile. Rosie’s energy was similar to that of ‘Necklace man’. He had a little complexity and a different appearance. The message of not being safe with him was no different than when I was with ‘Necklace man’.

What I am saying basically is, ‘Necklace Man’ was a catalyst to start my toxic love life. Rosie was a catalyst within the same frequency to end a toxic love life. Both men offered extreme value for me in the end, which is the ability to write my story here for you to read. Hopefully you can learn through my pain so that you can release yours.

Jean and Alyssa are sweet, kind souls. That is, before all the trauma that brought Jean to a natural state of emotional and mental detachment. Jean was, and likely still is a highly intelligent, loving, young person who asked brilliant, thought provoking questions. 

Questions such as, “why are there crosses on gravestones? Where do we go when we die? What’s the reason my mom doesn’t like me? Why can’t I do right by my Dad? I keep telling the adults but no one is doing anything. Does no one believe me? Do you believe me Clair? I had a dream, what does it mean?”

Jean confided in me a fair bit in the beginning. He asked me many questions. I love the time we had together. He has such a beautiful soul.

Jean suffered from nightmares often as well. He would have anywhere from one to four a week. He also had a tendency to talk and sleepwalk. He was seven when he asked me those questions.

There were many long walks and talks between Rosie’s son and I back then. I cherish those memories. We would go to my favorite meditation spot down by the water. My heart broke for Jean. Even though he was a troubled kid, I could feel his soft loving nature. He kind of reminded me of me when I was his age. Jean was truly an affectionate boy under those emotional and tumultuous circumstances. Jean was lost and wanted to understand himself. I can empathize with that.

When I left in 2023, Jean was eleven. No longer the sweet curious seven year old. He gave hugs still. More often than not Jean only gave hugs when he first arrived home from school or at bedtime because that was what was expected from him. Ask him how his day went and you’d get one word responses.

“Good”. “Fine”. “Yeah”. “No”. He changed drastically from the soft affectionate little person I went for walks with back in 2020. Jean’s curious mind and bright spark had dimmed a wee bit.

Jean went from being a little person with a healthy sense of curiosity to a rather detached, nonchalant about life and himself, young man. That’s who I saw when I went back in 2023 to reconcile with his dad anyway. This was the choice Jean had made for himself.

That’s what life is all about. Making free will choices to design an incredible journey for the purpose of building self awareness, and a personalized life experience. We all make our own choices based upon our personal experiences and perception. Even eleven year olds choose, subconsciously or otherwise, what character they are developing for themselves. No matter how easy or how hard life experiences can be. If you look at a seven year old, you would likely also see the adult version of them to come. A seven year old’s character is often set in place at this age in the game of life.

It was heartbreaking to watch Jean’s transformation. He was up against expectations of high grades, being the go-between for both his parents, as well as adjusting to me living with him. He was dealing with his sister being raised under a different roof with his mother, to his sister moving in with him permanently at his dad’s. Finally, Jean also dealt with his parents constantly combative with one another. This was the lovely meal life had dished out to him. This is what Jean’s soul had chosen to experience in this lifetime order for him to evolve is consciousness. Jean chose a difficult curriculum for this lifetime.

I witnessed Jean’s transition from a soft, loving, and curious little person, to an angry, quiet, misunderstood tween. I had witnessed Jean’s light dim over a five year span. Sometimes to this day I catch myself thinking painful thoughts. I wasn’t  consistently loving towards Jean when I was there either. Sometimes the drama was too much. I too became stern and unwavering in my opinion towards the end of my time with him.

More often than not I am a loving, calm person. At the height of tension between Jean’s parents, Rosie and I, Rosie’s mother and the kids, or between Rosie’s mother and myself, there was no unity inside the home. There was only unhealthy and heavy division in the energetic space.

I found myself mimicking Rosie’s approach to parenting. I started to have less patience. I wouldn’t fully hear the kids out when explaining something. I made false accusations on at least one occasion. I became increasingly unkind to them in the final days of mine and Rosie’s situation ship, which had its grand finale on August 27th, 2024.

I saw Jean vacate his eyes one time when I was yelling at him. It instantly stung my heart in that moment. Still does a little. We were all living together under one roof. Rosie, Rosie’s mother, both children, a new dog named Kody, and myself. We were living in a new house Rosie bought with his mother.

Rosie and his mother. Now that is for a different entry. I felt like I had shaken hands and had accepted a round two with my own mother. You think you leave a toxic nest only to land yourself into another one. I was blind. Now I can see.