You Cannot Shame Me– I am Unashamed

I was married when I met my soulmate. 

I can’t tell you the times I laid on the floor, staring up at the ceiling wondering where he was. Arms spread in open surrender to the questions of my own mind and a knowing that he was out there. 


My one. 

My counterpart.

You feel them, long before they show up. 

But the guilt that came with that thought was the fact that my then husband was in his “man cave” glued to his video game controller. 

I had the thought once, that maybe, if I tape that console to my naked body, I would get his attention. 

Either way, a relationship can be over, without a document saying it is, to those of you who play by the rules of society… 

I do not. 

We were roommates, not lovers— we weren’t even friends at this point and we had let our marriage slip so far it was out of reach. I was sleeping next to someone who felt like my enemy. 

And for some reason or another— a reason that can only be explained by divine guidance— I found myself deep in meditations, sending out parts of my heart to the unknown… the masked man I would daydream about– not knowing what he looked like—- but feeling what he felt like because even though it was unknown to me then, it is so obvious now. 

I was manifesting my soulmate. 

I felt his presence long before he appeared in physical form.

The invisible chord that tied us to one another from one lifetime to the next– connecting my heart to his and every day… I was unconsciously calling him to me. 

In my minds eye he was warm and broad.

Strong but soft.

Quiet but loud in the way that he loved. 





I cannot blame anyone other than myself for the decision to get married. The person I was then did things because I craved approval and societies intentions were louder than my own. At 27 I had no real idea of who I was or what I wanted. This is what people do after college. This is what I thought I was supposed to do. 

I cannot beat myself up for the decisions I made 4 years ago because those pages in my story were needed. I don’t blame him and I don’t blame myself… some things just aren’t meant to last forever. 

To those fearless souls who crave what I now know to be real— If you find yourself alone right now and can’t think of one thing worse because your loneliness needs someone to hold it— I will tell you what’s worse. Being in a marriage and feeling that same barren coldness— desperately craving connection and intimacy from your partner—but no matter what you do— how you look that day— or how you make sure to scrub the toilet the way he likes, he just doesn’t have it in him. 

I wish I could go back and tell that version of me that it wasn’t me… although I felt as though it was. 

A husband that never touched me, let alone wanted to eat dinner next to me—because he was too busy scoring virtual soccer goals. 

So, I endured the pains of all of this alone… dreaming of what it might be like to finally be loved, by the right one while simultaneously believing the lies that this was about me. 

Allowing the thoughts of “is there something wrong with me” to become truths and letting this deep insecurity fester into a deep dark hole.  

I imagined the nights I could fall asleep next to him. 

Held by his gaze

And deeply understood. 

Rather than scolded and talked down to with criticisms disguised as jokes, but ones that cut right to the bone. 

Words cut, deeply. 

I left my marriage willingly, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t pushed to the edge.

For whatever reason, I had again chosen someone— Who hadn’t yet faced his pain.

I married someone who was committed to misunderstanding me— because he didn’t yet understand himself— and it deeply hurt my spirit, every day. 

I could no longer choose someone like that.

Vows or no vows. 

And at the end of the day, you had two people who could not, and were not choosing one another.

I take full responsibility for my side of the street.

My outbursts and anger. 

Trauma I hadn’t yet faced. 

Constantly triggered in his presence— I checked out long before I made that known to anyone—  

Knowing what I know now, he was my teacher 

And if we could all go back, taking the lessons that are now clear, we’d do some things a little differently— I’m sure you agree, taking this and applying it to your own life.

I may not have kicked walls out of anger making dents in the shape of the suede nude boots in the drywall– with a bruised foot to prove it.

I should have never pushed him to his breaking point that sent my kate spade salad plate flying across the kitchen as it hit the wall and shattered into shards. 

I could have stayed. 

I could have taken a breath and stayed— to hash it out—rather than storming away to sit in the publix parking lot for hours—just to swim in the peace. 

But i didn’t do any of those things. 

I escalated things when I could have calmed them down. And every single unresolved conflict was like a head banging song on repeat. 

But this was my way of finally getting his attention. After hours of silence, and me going dark to call whomever would listen, he would beg me to come home. But the next day, would be just like the one before. 

So my impulsiveness to leave amidst the conflict… I cannot change— just like I could not change him and he could not change me. 

A relationship will never work if you find yourself wishing the person you’re with to be different — wishing for them to be someone other than themselves… 

Nonetheless there was a part of me screaming in a constant loop of triggers in an environment that had become suffocating. 

Here’s where I was wrong. 

I was wrong for not being honest about wanting out. 

I was wrong for dragging things on for longer than necessary. 

& Here’s where I wasn’t wrong… 

I was not wrong in wanting to be loved fearlessly. 

Non abusively. 


I was not wrong for wanting to be understood and valued. 

I was not wrong for wanting mutual respect and ears to hold my heaviness and eyes to hold my gaze. 

For that I was not wrong. 

For that I will never apologize for— 

I can honestly say, that I could not understand how to love him either, just like he could not understand how to love me. And so…. this is where we were. I knew from the depths of me I could not be that for him and he could not be that for me and despite the ugliness that ensued in our marriage, he deserved happiness and love, just as I did. 

And so, the bachelorette trip that I was hesitant about going on was here and despite all of the things swirling around in my own world, I wanted to get away. 

And turns out, I was meant to. 

The universe had some major plans behind the scenes of my life that I was not a part of, yet. 

But on May 27th, it all became perfectly clear. 

There he was and there I was, on the sands of Cruz bay— like two magnets drawn together with the force of God. 

An instantaneous kiss that sent our worlds spiraling… and for the next hour, we could not and did not escape one another’s energy field. 

I’m sure I didn’t know in that moment that he would be my forever… but I knew something. 

You don’t find yourself in situations like this, with undying connection and it be nothing. 

You just don’t. 

I knew he was important. 

And in those moments I could not escape my humanness. 

I felt like I had been starved of connection… a heart that was parched and craved the quench that only love can give, and despite my attempts to love myself through it all, to let that be what filled my cup— I am only human. 

& There he was… 

the masked man. 

 I wanted to drink him in, every drop and I had never felt such comfort in the presence of a stranger. 

He felt like home. 

Under the light of a million stars and the background noise and voices of humans on this island, I could not hear a thing. It was he and I, and nothing else mattered.

I found myself locked in as the rest of the world disappeared and spiraled around us and for this instant, time did not exist.

This was one of those moments in life that come with such force and magic that words could never do them justice. And as I relive this story that speaks of fire and sparks and passion, I am taken back to the moment that changed the trajectory of my life. He was finally here and I’d waited my whole life for him.

May 27, 2017

I love this quote so much because it speaks to me, as a writer. “Nothing I ever write is about you. Everything I’ve ever written and ever will write is about my experience of you.” 

Janne Robinson

We all have all have our own experiences of people, and they all have experiences of us. 

I was slut shamed for this— publicly, and what could have been a discreet conversation, became a public spectacle and I, was like a deer in headlights— mortified. I found myself needing to incessantly explain myself to everyone—  I was airing out details of my marriage to girls who weren’t even my friends, and I hadn’t even told my family… but this is a position that I had put myself in, but looking back, I owed no one an explanation, I should have let whoever, think whatever they wanted to. Most had no fucking clue the things that I had been through, let alone probably couldn’t care less, yet here it was in the form of stares and gasps and whispers. I felt dirty.

This was shame, and I felt it, and it was heavy. It dripped of red hot judgement and I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide, for all eternity. 

That portion of this story is so small in comparison to the magnitude of the magical detail of this, but important enough to mention because it was a defining moment of friendships and like Maya Angelou says “when someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”

I have always refused to let this, outshine the importance of this encounter. This encounter conspired by the cosmos— no human… not me, not anyone could’ve stopped this divine intervention because what is meant for us, can and never will miss us, and he couldn’t have missed me nor I him, even if we tried. 

This was mine. My story. My failed marriage. My moment. All of it was mine… and no one could take it away from me. 

If you have read my words enough… you know that I am a firm believer in finding the purpose in the pain— and this taught me a valuable lesson about shame and how people throw it onto you, with ease and ugliness, when the things that you do threatens their beliefs and what I have learned in this, is that shame will not be worn by me, not now, not ever.

If you find yourself in the midst of judgement about me, as you read this, I invite you to look at that… I am not an object at which you willingly throw your judgements on. My truth is mine and I stand and swim in it, knowing that my vulnerability  is the place where my courage lives— it is not a place for your projections. I stand in the truth of who I am— firmly rooted in my decisions that have and always will be about me and my own life. I courageously write these stories and narratives, knowing I won’t be understood by everyone, and that is the beauty of standing in the light of empowerment and in the light of my truth. I do not need one ounce of approval from anyone. I don’t expect everyone to understand me, and I am ok, with giving people something to talk about. Maybe it will stir something within their soul, and rather than the focus being on me, it will lead them back to themselves. 

I realize now, that the actions that caused this hurt and shame to be thrown onto me, came from those who lacked love and healing. And even though I cannot and will not stand for it, they too, are only human… just like me & while I could sit in a pile of resentment and rehash every single detail of what this shame felt like… i don’t want to, because the moral of the story is this. 

I am unashamed and unapologetic of all the things that got me here. 

My happiness was the quest in which I stopped at nothing to have. Through this, I learned to stop caring so much, or at all about what people think about me– to listen to my heart and to do right by me and me alone.

And because I did that. Because I courageously listened to myself, to my heart and to the whispers nudging me to the path of my highest good…

I now know what it means to be loved fearlessly and non-abusively. 

My heart has found its home where it is valued and deeply understood. And all the things I wished for, hoped for, longed for, I now have, in the masked man who came to me, on the sands of Cruz bay and absolutely lit my world on fire. 

This story isn’t about shame, this story is about a girl who followed her own guidance— who found her own fairytale on a tiny island in the Caribbean. This story is about two people who ultimately decided we belonged together despite what came before, or after & I am and will always be unapologetic in the sheer beauty and unexplained serendipity of our love story. 

So, You can keep your shame. 

I am unashamed. 

4 thoughts on “You Cannot Shame Me– I am Unashamed

  1. Powerful stuff! I believe in soulmates! You have a beautiful way of story telling. This was potent and good for you for standing strong by your truth.

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