Once upon a time, a very kind man went out of his way to help me.

He later asked why a woman would refuse his help and my flip response was that she probably needed to learn how to do things for herself. Of course, I was probably talking about myself because by the time we met when I was in my early forties, I had never really lived on my own.

However, my heart was conflicted..

I loved him as I had never loved another, but I was afraid: afraid he would be like others who wanted me to be who and what they wanted me to be rather than who I was just beginning to discover I was, and perhaps could be.

Devastated, but determined, I walked, well, I ran away as I learned to do at an early age.

Living far away from family and friends, I was solely on my own for the first time. Over the next years, I secured a number of different jobs and returned to school several times, plus discovered I had a variety of previously unrecognized natural talents.

What I lacked for years though was the healing I needed to make the much-needed changes in my life, including better money-management skills. For the longest time I did not connect the dots that my low “Respect Level” was supported by a debilitating pride. On a very deep level, I rationalized I had managed other people’s money successfully for years, so I should be able to manage my own, but for the longest time I could not see how I was hurting myself with my limiting, false beliefs.

Not until I recognized my role in the unhealthy relationships I kept developing, including with money, did things finally change, though not overnight.

My dark night of the soul had happened years ago. My pain was so overwhelming I cried out to God, whom I had rejected years ago because I thought he had abandoned me based on what I had gone through and how he had let bad things happen to me. No big change happened. In fact, I went through many periods of mild success and calm times, before another challenge thrust me out into the world searching for a new job and a new home. I finally settled on sharing a city apartment with a very psychologically-broken man because I was weary of the places I had had to live because my income did not provide enough to have my own apartment.

The cost was higher than I expected as I continue to explore the world and different ways people lived and worked. Sharing a living space with someone just as, or even more broken than I was emotionally, meant I took the brunt of his pain in his outbursts. And even as new girlfriends and left, I was relieved when one showed up and started moving her things into our small apartment. My decision to move out was made simple when in one of his rages he threw something and almost hit my little cat Missy. Living out the last two months in the apartment was to say the least, tense.

What little self worth was all but shattered, yet the move back to Kincardine to be there for my dad kept me busy and preoccupied. However, after his death, I took many more emotional and psychological hits and some days it took all I had to get up.

Once I had been excited about the work I knew I was to do. I registered the company, wrote books, and attracted people who wanted to be a part, well, actually wanted to exploit what I had created. Forced by circumstances to live in other people’s homes, I was learning not to lean on people, but on God to keep my cats and I provided for and safe.

But when the day came that I had to leave the last person’s home, plus did not have the means to go somewhere or a somewhere I could pay for, you could say my prayers were a little more urgent. And what happened next finally made me realize and accept that God had me covered.

Not that I could acknowledge the idea totally right away after having to move into a women’s shelter that  just happened to have a pilot project allowing woman in need to bring their animals with them and just happened to have an available room, which I soon discovered is not common either.

Still not having the means to rent a market value apartment, even a studio one, I posted my need on Facebook and weeks later found myself living in a room above a relative’s garage. Still not having the means to pay the agreed upon rent, I was provided the opportunity to cook for the relative’s family until I could pay the little rent they decided to charge me, which thankfully has arrived.

None of this has been easy, but it has been life-changing. I am no longer the stressed-out, non-confident, fearful woman I had become. Neither too, am I a woman defined by other people, but finally by myself … and God.

Surrendering to God has not been easy, mostly because I did not know enough about Him or trust Him, though I do know a lot more about Him and do trust Him now. So much so, that I am no longer even fearful of people, even of the one I love like I have not loved another.

In fact, surrendering to God is the best thing I have done because I know the purpose I am to fulfill comes from Him and that purpose is deeply rooted in my whole being and all that I do.

Surrendering to a man, allowing him to lead our marriage and home life is no longer terrifying either because first and foremost I trust God with my life and the life, and husband, He has chosen for me.

What a difference surrendering means when you discover that surrendering to the most powerful, loving being means placing your life, your trust, in someone who loves you unconditionally and only has your best interests at heart.



Specialist Writer Speaker Social Entrepreneur Founder and President

of Connecting The Dots With The Respect Principle

Smashwords interview @

© All Rights Reserved 2014-2020

February 12, 2020























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