Neall was not a bad person; he just wasn’t the guy for me. While we were married and our marriage was crumbling, I’m not proud of how I acted at times but in fairness, neither was he. Neall had a really good heart, he had empathy and compassion. Neall’s biggest problem was that he wasn’t motivated. Neall suffered a lot of trauma in his own childhood also. In my early 20’s, I didn’t even know I had suffered trauma so I was not able to recognize the signs in him, let alone myself. Neal grew up in Southern Ontario, he was adopted and had an older adopted sister. His parents provided a nice loving home. His mother was a TV personality in the 1970s with her own yoga TV show while his dad worked in HR at a manufacturing plant. Neall recalled feeling happy until one day his parents divorced. His father had an affair with his assistant and left his current bride, a successful and well-respected Jewish businesswoman for his Catholic assistant. Neall remembers feeling hated and like his new

December 1997 I focused on work and on breaking up with Neall. It was uncomfortable living in the same house, but after a lot of begging, I caved and I said OK we could give it one last attempt. A few weeks later, we took the bus up to The North (12 or 16 hour bus ride if I remember correctly). I had a lot of time on the bus to prepare Neall for the few days would be staying at home: Don’t smoke in the house; in fact it would be better if you didn’t do it where they can see you Don’t drink during the day, even if they insist Keep it to 3 beer in the evening, after dinner Do not talk about politics Don’t talk about religion Don’t tell them my mom has been helping us out financially Don’t tell them I was on welfare Don’t tell them I was pregnant Don’t tell them anything unless they specifically ask Whatever gift they give you, even if you hate it, pretend it’s the best thing you have EVER received and make it over the top Don’t disagree with either of them If they argue, yes, it’s all

In my first year of University, I had befriended an older man in my Political Science class. In my second year, I had a student loan, but not all the classes I wanted to take were offered during the times I was available. I had decided that I was very much interested in International and Treaty Law and would perhaps like a career with the United Nations. I focused on taking classes that would advance this goal which happened to see me taking classes at Carleton University via shuttle bus from Ottawa U. Turns out that my friend, James was in the Navy and taking the same classes I was at Carleton U. We started meeting up for coffee and talking about world politics. We hung out often over my student career. James and I are still friends on Facebook; in fact, he’s the only person I remember from University. Our apartment directly in front of the University didn’t last very long and Neall and I moved out in June or July just three or so months after we moved in. The landlady began thinkin