Tag: Love Story

(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.

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

After having my conversation with Clairity about ego perception versus spiritual truths, from my level of understanding, I came to a much clearer awareness that my perception trumps the truth. It is only when someone is ready, willing, and able, that the truth presents itself. If a person, such as myself throughout my life up until now, chooses to only see their desires, the truth will remain hidden in plain sight.

Whilst keeping what I had learned from Clairity private from Rosie, I allowed him to approach me through Messenger. Rosie did not realize that I had already made a commitment to myself when he reached out. I promised the little girl inside of me that I would always keep her safe. I set some healthy boundaries which I intended to keep firmly in place. I also promised the little girl inside of me that I will always do my utmost best to see the truth. Even if the truth is painful.

I was and still am committed to seeing the truth. Within all I do in this lifetime. My heart may have been soft for Rosie, and the conditioned love my ego was attached to was still very apparent, I also recognized the responsibility of wise discernment. I kept one foot on solid ground within me for round three of Rosie and I in the ring of illusion.

Whilst Rosie and I were speaking on Messenger, he did his best to explain some of his upbringing. I say some, because Rosie rarely divulged intimate details about himself. When he did, he only spoke enough until his suppressed emotions began to surface. When he experienced a change of emotion that scared him, he spoke no more of it.

The only emotion Rosie was able to express outwardly was anger or distraught. My dad was the same way. If my dad wasn’t drunk and making fun of someone, he was generally relaxed and quiet. My dad kept to himself most of the time. He did the cordial visiting thing but when he wanted to leave, my parents left. My dad had little patience for small talk. He wasn’t an emotionally expressive person either. My dad was all logic. My mum was emotionally expressive for both of them.

Rosie and I did speak of his infidelity when we were on Messenger. I honestly am unable to remember exactly what was said between us. As I am certain you can imagine, I was barely keeping my sanity together by this point. I was also more focused on his facial expressions and eye movements. I noticed when he spoke with me, his expression didn’t always match the experience he was explaining. I also noticed he looked right several times. I called him out on that. His response to it was, “I am just like that. I look in all directions when I am talking with people. It’s something you learn in the military. It doesn’t mean I am lying”.

My response was quick and matter-of-fact, “nope, not true”. I am familiar with Rosie, and familiar with some facial reading to know when Rosie is bullshitting me. He may have done some surface level reflecting, he still hadn’t gone too deep within myself at this stage. I kept a mental note.

What Rosie was willing to talk about was the fact that he was raised by a single mum. He never knew his father. He spoke of being exposed to male energy most of his life. There was a local barber shop in his community. He explained you would often find him there. Rosie felt his being around people older than him most of his life was probably the reason he gravitated to older women. Rosie explained that the men he was around had an interesting way of treating women. He said those behaviors rubbed off on him. Rosie also alluded to the idea that he was unfaithful because he was cheated on by his first school love whilst back in highschool. Followed by another girl cheating on him right after that. Empathy heartstring pulled?, check.

After Rosie explained much of what I already knew about him, I offered up a peace offering. I’m actually not entirely sure if it was me or Clairity who made the solid suggestion to help Rosie and I. I say that because the proposal slipped right out of my mouth with little to no thought. After I suggested it I didn’t think he would actually do it.

I said, “alright Rosie. If you are truly sorry and are making an honest effort to grow, tell your family what truly happened between us. Tell them about your infidelity. Tell them about the reasons for my leaving. Explain to them that I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. Also tell your mum about all the work I did for you to help you get your kids. Tell her about the way I supported you. Clear my name Rosie. With your mum and your children. Give credit where credit is due. Come clean and record it so that I know you had the courage, integrity, and morality to be honest with everyone. After you record it, send it to me by email. I’ll listen to it then get back to you”.

That was a decent compromise I’d say. If he truly wanted to be with me, then he would be wise to come clean.

Rosie decided to take me up on the challenge in a somewhat sneaky way. He is a smarticle particle I tell ya. Rosie is a three steps ahead kind of thinker. I am grateful for him teaching me that. I started to implement the exact same training. Here! Here! for thinking three steps ahead!

In other words, act, react, then observe to discern. Follow what you observed in hindsight with making a conscious decision. All the while, keep your thoughts to yourself. Thank you Rosie. That was wise advice indeed. Rosie used his three step process to stay ahead of his deceit. I use it to see the truth.

Rosie’s insightful advice piggybacked off of my dad’s and my mum’s growing up. My dad would often say, “you can’t bullshit a bullshitter”.

My mother taught me it is always wise to “keep your eyes and ears open with your mouth shut”.

Interesting how the same thought process and messaging can come in a multitude of creative ways. We are collective thinkers with uniquely designed self expression. Two English born Canadians and one French Haitian Canadian think alike. Imagine that.

It was about a week later when I received the email with the recording. I listened to it as I said I would. I think Clairity wanted me to catch that the recording was entirely in English. I was unable to hear his mother speak whatsoever.

Rosie’s mum understood minimal English. I think Clairity also wanted me to catch that Rosie still hadn’t given credit where credit was due, nor did he fully admit to four women. Rosie only told his kids of two women. Wendy, whom the kids had already met on more than one occasion, and another woman. The biggest and most subtle thing Clairity wanted me to notice was Rosie’s response to Alyssa’s question when she asked him, “how does Clair feel? Is she okay?”. Rosie’s response was, “she’s disappointed”.

Disappointed is an interesting word to describe the way I was feeling and reacting to the situation. I would be disappointed if I received white chocolate instead of milk chocolate. Distraught, flabbergasted, hurt, receptive to healing, in pain, or anything else really, would have described the truth a hell of a lot better than disappointed.

This little blurb in the recording was Clairity’s way of showing me Rosie was still suffering from a stunted emotional intelligence.

Was I willing to teach him empathy? Seems I was hell bent on trying.

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

Rosie reached out to me on Messenger within about two weeks of my seeing him, and learning of his four, not just two, affairs. Rosie was testing the waters to see how receptive I would be to his advances towards a reconciliation. Before he reached out, I placed thoughts of him aside. Thinking of him was too painful. Instead of thinking of Rosie, I was focused on understanding what had occurred in the hotel room with that booming voice. I had never experienced something quite like that before, nor have I since.

My initial thoughts that brought Clairity into focus was, did I really channel an angel? What are angels? Are they a human construct to create fear of wrath and judgment? Are angels a true divine being of light and darkness, just as humans are of the same creation? Are they reflections of all that is, expressing themselves in a different frequency of light and sound? Are angels simply another form of alien? Everyone is an alien to someone after all.

I imagine, you may consider me alien by the way I process information? You may have even questioned if I suffer from some form of clinically identifiable mental disorder? I have certainly questioned my mental health in my past.

All this is to say, we are alien to each other until we are no longer alien to one another. Only you know you the best. I become less alien to you the more you follow my journey. Until you let me know you, you are alien to me. Everything else is just glitter and lights.

I also can’t imagine angels are at our beckon call. I would be arrogant to think that. Knowing that, what role do they play here on earth? Are they guardians helping through miraculous divine intervention? Do they combat darkness so that we, tiny little humans don’t become too overwhelmed by it all? The questions went on and on. I was so curious about the experience. I’m fairly certain that the experience rattled Rosie a wee bit too.

I have also been made aware of Rosie speaking ill of me and my connection to all that is behind my back since our separation. Sadly, and said without factual proof, only Clairity, Rosie referred to me as being mentally ill, lazy, ungrateful, antisocial, a dark witch, and other not so pleasant names. What stings is knowing he mocked my beliefs.

I know things without people telling me. Not all the time, most times. I also have confidence that what I don’t know today, I will come to know tomorrow with the help of my God. The truth always comes out one way or another.

I trust when I feel Clairity’s energy and the information she whispers to me. I trust Clairity’s words over Rosie’s any day and in any situation. In fact, if you trust someone outside of yourself more than you trust yourself, then you have definitely signed up for a heavy price to pay down the road.

I feel sad and disappointed for Rosie’s and my past connection. Rosie was supposed to be my person. The one my inner little girl was supposed to feel safe with.

It takes a village to raise a child. I am not meant to take care of my inner child by myself. We are made to be social. You and another, just like another and myself, are made to co-create our world together. At one time I was in an illusion of trust and safety, not actually seeing that I was unsafe. We only see what we want to see. We only see clearly when we choose to see the truth.

Your divine person has an important role in your life. They are the ones who help you keep your inner child nourished and safe to the best and utmost of their ability. You in turn are honored with taking care of your person’s inner child as well.

We are guardians for each other. If you treat your inner child like shyte, you would likely be impatient and unapproachable with others as well. Therefore you would inadvertently treat others like shyte. Two children can only get along when they are not grumpy within themselves. Adults are bigger versions of the same thing.

Rosie’s inner child was stuck in a fetal position, inside his own personal cave. He was unable to see the breathtaking waterfall. I did my best to pull him out like the way Grandpa Joe saved me from mine. Rosie has free will. I have no say over his choices. Knowing that doesn’t make the pain of loss less real. Healing is a process that requires the allowance of divine timing and self love.

Our ideal plan rarely goes exactly the way we ideally plan it to go. Today I can accept all is not as it seems. Even the sweetest of looking creatures can bite you in the ass hard enough that you wouldn’t be able to sit down again for a week afterwards. I would know. My mother used to brag to my friends that she bit my ass after I bit my brother’s, in order to teach me a lesson. I was three years old at the time.

My mother is a shorter woman. She used to say, “good things come in small packages”. Yeah, true, so does dynamite.

Rosie was sweet to look at and extremely hard to resist or digest. Being with Rosie is too high of a price to pay in the end. I would have paid the price of losing myself had I stayed with him.

Clairity interrupted my plethora of questions about angels.

“Clair, you have many valid questions. You also have the answers. Can you recall the adventure you had during a sleep state, when you spoke to an elderly woman?”.

I do remember that dream. I remember it vividly. Like it happened last night. I am still curious about it to this day.

It was sometime between 1990 and 1992. This dream left me more curious than anything else. In my dream I was sitting in a long, narrow, wooden boat. There was a man all in black using a long paddle behind me. He was standing on  the flat wood right at the peak of the boat. I guess you could consider it like a gondola boat in Venice. With the guide pushing the water with a long ore to create movement.

The presence behind me was strong and silent whilst gliding us down the waterway. The man was wearing a black hooded, floor length robe, with the hood covering his face. I felt like the size of an ant in comparison to his height and energy. One might consider him to look like a Grimm reaper of sorts, but without a scythe.  Since he was quietly guiding me through tall buildings on either side of us, I asked him, “am I on the River Styx?” The man gave no response.

The reason I think I asked if I was on the River Styx was because I had associated it with another dream I had prior to this one. I also loved Greek Mythology in school, so it could have easily been my subconscious associating with that learning and bleeding the knowledge into my dream state.

As we continued to move in silence I noticed I was wearing a light cream colored gown. Kind of like a flowy nightgown. The cloth was light and beautiful to look at. After admiring the clothes I was wearing, I looked up to see three massive figures standing together in a clearing to my left.

The clearing was situated in between buildings I was passing by. As soon as I saw the three beings, I bowed my head. I felt I would be dishonoring them if I looked directly at them in the eyes. I have no idea why I felt that way. I simply knew they were to be respected.

The three figures were extremely tall and slender. I’d estimate to be at least eight feet tall. They had iridescent shimmering skin that glistened when the light hit them. Like the way movies often depict vampire looking skin.

Do you know what I mean?

Two of them had the same melanin, assuming that’s what you would call it?, and one was slightly different. The best way I can describe them would be by acknowledging, they looked similar to the elves in the Lord of the Rings series. Two with lighter irridescent skin, and the other slightly darker in appearance. They seemed to be intersex as well. I was unable to distinguish between male or female. They were stunning to look at.

I kept my head bowed as we slowly drifted around a corner.  My water guide and I travelled down the narrow watery passageway until we stopped to pay particular attention to a man, and a woman, standing on the landing in front of an ornate looking building. The two people were wearing long royal blue robes with white accents. Similar to that of graduation, or choir gowns.

The female was shorter than the male by a good foot. At first, I thought the woman with alburn hair was my great aunt Mary. It may have been, dunno for certain. When we stopped in front of the people, I was under the impression that I was to get out of the boat. I went to stand up when a voice from behind me said, “stay seated”. With that, the two people smiled at me, then we started moving again.

I think we may have passed by another four buildings. There were different ones on either side of me, before the boat finally came to its full stop resting place. In front of me was a wide open body of water. To the left of me was a white wall. To the right was a pathway leading to some stone steps that curved around a quaint little building. There was where I got out.  I didn’t look back in the dimly lit waterway. I didn’t see the reaper man leave. Instead, I was focused on going up the stairs.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I came to an elderly looking woman on my right hand side. She was standing on the front stoop of her home. Her home looked like a home you would find in Mykonos Greece. Only dark in color, rather than white.

As soon as I saw her I posed two questions, “am I supposed to use my psychic abilities to help others? Is that what I am meant to do?”.

The woman looked up at me, smiled, then telepathically said, “only you know the answer to that. Keep going sweetheart”.

With that, I smiled at her, turned around, and walked further up the path until I opened my eyes in my bedroom.

That dream rushed back to me when I watched “What Dreams May Come”, starring Robin Williams, and Annabella Sciorra. There is a scene where Christy, played by Robin Williams, travels on a boat. I think it’s that scene that makes What Dreams May Come my favorite movie of all time. No other movie has come close to the sentiment I hold for that movie. The movie validated my experiences in perception throughout my life, beautifully.

“Yes Clair, that’s correct. The beings you saw before the elderly lady, who were they to you?”, Clairity asked.

I don’t really know. My intuition tells me they are angels. My logic questions this idea.

“You are learning to decipher, and understand your intuition, yes? Who they are is for you to discover and rationalize, not for me to tell you at this time. Do you remember your excursion with Grandpa Joe in the city?”, Clairity questioned.

Yes, like the first dream, I remember that excursion vividly.

The city dream with Grandpa Joe occurred sometime between 2004 and 2006. I know it was before I opened a spiritual center in September of 2006.

Grandpa Joe came to me the same way he had done most other times, simply appearing in front of the bedroom closet doors. When I saw Grandpa Joe, I left my body and floated over to him. I stood in front of him in my usual spot. Within inches of my face, Grandpa Joe motioned my eyes to close with the palm of his hand. When he removed his palm from in front of my face, I opened my eyes. I was standing on a sidewalk beside Grandpa Joe on my left.

The sidewalk Grandpa Joe and I were standing on was in a busy city. To give reference, I would say the environment was similar to that of New York City, in New York, USA. I hadn’t been to New York at that time. Today I can identify the similarities.

Grandpa Joe was standing to my left and looking straight ahead. I looked up at him to see where he was facing. With that, my curiosity took over. I looked where he was looking, which was across the busy street.

On the other side of the street was another sidewalk. There were many people walking fast, and slow, in both directions. I could make out their physical appearances somewhat. What stood out more was the rainbow of colors in their auric fields. Not all people had the same color sequences. Some were more red. Some were purple and green. Others were orange and yellow. Some were all the colors in one silhouette.

As these colourful beings, whom I intuitively knew were human, walked, a light being walked with them. I could only make out a sillouette of golden light. The beings floated about two or three feet above the rainbow people. Some had two light beings with them, whilst others had only one. All had guiding forces walking with them. That was apparently clear.

“Clair, look over there”, Grandpa Joe lovingly instructed.

As Grandpa Joe extended his arm, and pointed his index finger, he glided his arm to the right. My eyes followed is motion. Grandpa Joe was showing me an alleyway.

The alleyway was no different than any other alleyway you would see in a city. It wasn’t the alleyway that caught my attention. It was the five shadow people I saw that puzzled me.

“It’s important to remember Clair, they do exist”, my Grandpa Joe said like a loving dad would say to his daughter before her first date.

The shadow people were all huddled together. None of them expressed light, nor had a light being standing close to them. They looked like black robed monks with no face and no distinguishable light. They freaked me out a little.

Grandpa Joe went further on to explain, “most are of light. Few are unpleasant. Some interfere when ruled not to. Some cause havoc where havoc need not apply. Remain aware. Close your eyes dear”. With that, I closed my eyes then woke up in my bed.

I thought, what is the point of remembering this dream when it came to angels?

Clairity finished her teaching of that day by saying, “not all is as it seems. You are guided. Most are. The guiding forces are loving, wise, and always open to assist. Some people may see angels. Some people may see ancestors. Some people may see a god of sorts. We are imagined beings living a beautifully imagined existence. If you can imagine it long enough, whatever it is you imagine forms into being.

Conscious energy forms into a being you are familiar with within your imagination. An angel does not know the way you see them, any more than you can see your own true reflection. If you believe in angels, then angels exist. If you believe angels are aliens, then aliens it is. However you depict creation is perfectly fine with creation. Do you understand?”, Clairity asked.

I do yes, and I don’t. Perhaps it is because our ego is so hell bent on labels and identification.

“Exactly” Clairity stated, with dare I say, a cheeky vibe.

Life is fascinating isn’t it? I think that conversation with Clairity inadvertently softened me up to Rosie. The city dream helped me to remember, Rosie is a light being. Granted a lost light being. A light being nonetheless.

The reason I say I softened up by weaponizing empathy against myself, because, I agreed to let Rosie lure me back in with his charm. His attempt at redemption was enough to get me to ignore my higher wisdom once again.

Or, did it? Perhaps I was meant to go back to Rosie’s? Perhaps there was valuable knowledge to gain. Perhaps I was entering my graduating year? Time will tell.

Wanna go back to Montreal with me?