A Moment of Hope

Derek randomly seeing my name and looking me up was the divine's greatest gift at this point in my life. It was what finally woke me up to the fact that I deserved better. I’ll always be grateful for Derek asking the hard questions, like why are you allowing this? Small comments meant as concern were powerful fuel for me. Even just conversations about how I was when we were growing up rebuilt that fire inside me. Derek helped me start healing; he showed me love and kindness and support, and I gave him the same in return. When we reached the point where we were healed enough to realize we wanted very different things out of life, we talked and separated amicably. After some time, he was able to become a very good friend to me, and at times I’m not sure what I would do without his silly memes and comments.

When it comes to Mike, there was nothing to save in our marriage, and it wasn't all his fault. I am equally to blame for every moment I didn't stand up and say that's not okay, every time I didn’t say I deserve more, every time I let him act like I was the servant, every meal I cooked that he complained about, every time I tried to plan time as a family and allowed him to destroy it with his tantrums and instigating. I was married to a man-child who thought I was his mother, and I allowed it for six damn years. I never left, and that is the only part of all of it I regret. I learned a lot of lessons in my marriage, but the one thing I couldn't find was self-worth.

By the time our marriage had ended, I had no idea if I was coming or going. The problems were all blamed on me. I was a narcissist, I was emotionally abusive. Everything he had been doing to me, he had people convinced I was doing it. I’m not a saint; I had some very toxic behaviors in my marriage. My abandonment wounds and trauma, my lack of self-worth—we never stood a chance. I had reached out to therapists, Compass, CAMH, anywhere I could to get myself therapy and help for my kids during our marriage and after. Sadly, other than help from a CAS worker as life was falling apart, there would have been no support. Just waiting lists and no callbacks. I had been to my doctor looking for help. I was off work on a leave of absence, was diagnosed with ADHD, and during RADS testing scored extremely high.

I then started the quest for the right meds. I was already on antidepressants; they helped with my pain and to regulate my mood. At this point, I was put on Vyvanse and Escitalopram. The first day felt like a miracle, but it slowly got worse. Every dose increase or change caused new symptoms, and then finally I got an evaluation with a psychiatrist. I needed an assessment to verify the diagnosis and proper meds. I got a resident, then the psychiatrist came in, barely spoke to me, and said, "You’ve already been diagnosed," and upped both my meds at the same time. Things did not end well, to say the least. During that week, my poor dad watched me sit catatonic for what felt like minutes to me but were hours of just crying.

To this day, I can’t tell you why I was crying or how I ended up sitting there like that. I went through months of ups and downs. We found something that helped and allowed me to sleep. I still couldn't eat. This is the point where I should probably say my weight loss success probably had a lot more to do with external stress and medications than the work I did, because let's be honest, I was exceeding expectations, and even now, three years post-op, I can’t stop losing the weight.

During this period, I felt really alone. I was angry, scared. I had no idea how I was going to support my kids or heal them. I grew up living in that environment. How much damage did it do to them? I wish I could say none, but Liam has struggled, and my own healing and struggles just make it harder on him. It breaks my heart seeing all the damage I did to my kids. I just hope that through time and help, we can all heal. I wish I could say the story ends here, but far from it. See, we are missing a huge piece of the story. Up until this point, everything that happened looks like coincidence, but when you piece all the little things together—Derek randomly seeing my name at work, issues with the Face ID settings—they were all little pieces of help from the divine.

Manifesting Safety

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Spirit and my guides were tired of me playing games. I needed to heal; I needed to get on with my life. So she brought me the one person I needed. I wish I could say she brought him, but I think my soul just kept crying out for him and for safety. I just needed somewhere safe, somewhere I could speak my truth, without judgment. Someone who would still look at me the same. I’d love to say I hadn't been manifesting him, but I was. He was constantly on my mind, little reminders of him, a song on the radio.

Then through mutual friends, I saw his mom passed, and I was even more concerned. I had been reaching out and not getting a response. Then Out of the blue, I went to Home Depot with a friend, and after months of searching and praying to find him and check in, there he was, pushing a cart through Home Depot. It felt like God answering a prayer.

We exchanged numbers and started catching up. The thing about him that nobody understood was that when I was with him, my soul was free. It was the only time I ever felt free, loved, and safe. I don’t think he ever realized he was this for me. He was my safe space, and having him back helped me heal in ways I can never thank him for. His love and kindness as my friend, his staunch approvals and disapprovals of the way people treated me, gave me a standard to set for myself. I finally felt like maybe as long as I had him in my life, I’d be okay. I wish I could say I didn’t become codependent. I did. I knew I was, and I admitted it to him. I could see and feel my triggers, and I was trying to be open and honest about them, but I could feel each one triggering his own trauma. He would pull away, but each time he came back more sure, and I slowly let down my guard and started trusting his feelings, at least the ones he’d allow me to see. I was trying so hard not to be codependent, not to feel anxious or jealous when he moved, but once he got there, I could feel things change.

Suddenly, he needed to build his life, not ours, and plans we made together were being unilaterally changed, every choice moving him further away from me. Part of me started to panic. He was going to leave me, and I’d truly be alone this time. I’d love to say everyone loved him and the relationship, but I had a lot of pressure from my family about the travel and the cost, not being there for my kids because I was running off for days on end. I was slowly starting to crack.

I wanted to be everything he needed, because for me he was everything. I had never been so intellectually, emotionally and physically attracted to another man, minus one it was like every person I dated was a knock version of him. I’ll never know if he realized he was doing it, but he was making suggestions for changes to clothes, my hair, the way I presented myself. It wasn't outright manipulation. It was done with gifts that made me look more "presentable" in his eyes. Suggestions of things he thought would look good on me. I saw it, but I honestly just thought he was enjoying being with someone who cared about his opinion. I later realized that things were out of control for him, and as long as he felt like he could control and move me around his chessboard, he was okay.

So I let him.

I realized he was turning me into his ex-wife, then I noticed his wedding ring starting to make a reappearance, and the final nail. His friends talked shit about me while I wasn't in the room and he laughed. I knew then and there it was over. He may love me but he sure as fuck had no respect for me. Especially if he wouldn't defend me in a room I wasn't in. I tried so hard to talk to him about it. I was trying to explain my anxieties, and the distance and the stress with my family. It all came out in a jumbled mess of tears and nonsense.

He told me it felt like a break up and I said it did but it wasn't what I wanted, I swore this wasn't me breaking up with him but I didn't have answers to fix anything. He told me he needed to go shower and think and he’d call me later. He never called, the next day I texted “so was this a break up” I got no response on the third day I got I need more time. I thought time for what? To figure out the distance, how it was going to work I didn’t know what to do at this point we had businesses developed, I was trying to get a lease and had an investor lined up. I needed communication at least for that. Still nothing, months of work crumbled around me. I did it again, gave all of myself to a man I thought loved me to be left holding the bag like an idiot.

I wish I could say we never spoke again but we did a couple weeks into the silence more things went wrong in my life see part of healing means conflicts and when I spoke my truth I lost my parents for a while. That night trying to reframe years of thought patterns over that rape I broke down and called him over and over in desperation. He didn't answer and I sat there in despair and for the first time in months darkness crept in. I spent that night crying, the kind of tears that tear open your soul and flood continents.

I didn't just lose someone I loved, I had now lost my lifeline.

I woke up to his call, I was shocked but part of me thought maybe I’m wrong maybe he did love me and just needed time to figure his stuff out. We talked and he sent me money to go see him so we could talk. I said no a few times and I wish I had listened to spirit that day. A key thing he said to me was "when you get here just wait for me on the boat." It was cold and windy that day, so I decided to run to the coffee shop and the girl behind the counter was someone I had got to know over the summer. She looked surprised to see me, and then she said the words that finally shattered me.

“Rumor has it he's with someone else”.

I got back in my car, drove to the marina and sat there and cried. I ran into another mutual friend who asked to buy me lunch. It was his birthday and he didn't want to have lunch alone. At this point I was told it was a friend of the woman who was tearing me down, and all I kept thinking was you cliché son of a bitch, could you be any more predictable. That day I felt a rage I have kept under control for years, and when I saw his face everything exploded out of me. I said things with intent that I never meant and I wish I could take back.

I'm ashamed of how little I could control the hurt that day.

I am ashamed of the way I acted in anger, but

I will never say that anger wasn’t justified.

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