I have spent my entire life sitting on a curb waiting for my Daddy. 

From a young age I knew my family was different. I was raised by a single Mom and my biological family lived across the country. My aunts and uncles were my Moms friends, a family unit she created, as they migrated from NJ to California together. But I didn't think of my aunts and uncles as different because it was all I knew.

However, I knew, from the inside of my soul that I did not have a Daddy. I was raised with incredible male role models and some of them even fulfilled elements of a father figure growing up, but it is different. I was often told by my Mom that I couldn't miss what I didn't have, but I missed this man that I never met.

My Father was my Mothers college professor. I knew he was a professor of sociology, that he was actively involved in the Civil Rights movement, that he wrote a book on class relations in America, and I knew that he told my Mother "he was not ready for the responsibility of having a child." I knew he was Jewish and an only child, his parents deceased. I knew he got kicked out of Brown University, due to activism activities, and graduated from Columbia University. That is all I know. 

I have spent a lot of years trying to make him proud, even though he doesn't care and he never will. I used the very little I knew about him to drive my education, my career success, and to try and understand the decisions he made, based on random facts gleamed from childhood stories.

So, my Bachelors degree was just as much for him, as it was for me, as it sits on the wall of my office, never to be used. I didn't have children, choosing a career instead, only to question that decision years later after it was too late. I spent my teenage years studying Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, and even going to the Muhammad Ali museum 3 years ago on a trip to KY. I can quote black culture facts as if the culture was my own, know reggae and jazz music like it was a part of my soul, and know more about race relations in America well before it became trendy. I have been to every Holocaust museum in America and ask questions about the Jewish faith and ethnicity trying to see if my roots resonate with me in anyway.

My Mother moved across the country 6 months pregnant with me. The name field for "Father" on my birth certificate was left blank. I did not own a picture of that man who was half of my DNA and had no idea what he looked like until a YouTube video surfaced in my late 30's. 

I made attempts to reach him, sending letters at the age of 10, 18, and 35, all with no response. Those attempts becoming easier with the use of Google, only to make me more confident he received them, and making the rejection of no response a little greater each time.

But even more than my strange quest for knowledge comes a deeper knowing that you are different. A Father is supposed to be her Daughters first love. He is supposed to teach her how she should be treated by a man. He is supposed to show her what it means to feel safe and secure. He is supposed to kiss skinned knees, heal broken hearts, and let her know that no matter what happens she is loved.

And so with the lacking I have struggled with understanding what good looks like in a relationship, as I did not have a relationship or partner role model. I have gone through life trying on relationships for size, only to discard them, knowing they were the wrong fit, too little or too big. I went through men exploring whether I liked being worshipped or beaten, wondering where that man was who could love me like a queen, but still step into me with respect. 

I have felt my entire life feeling unsafe and I have searched for safety in countless areas of my life. There is no coincidence that the majority of my career was spent in law enforcement, providing me with a community, a sense of camaraderie, a physical and emotional safety, only to create a different set of problems. I have looked for safety in relationships, only to find that I forgot to check and see if my heart was involved, putting security above love, never a recipe for success. I have looked for safety in achievements - career success, accolades, educational goals, etc. Only to now realize that I have to feel safe inside, with myself, and only myself.

I became overly independent at a young age, knowing with a childs sense that I had to heal my own skinned knees, take care of myself, rely on myself, and only myself. Sure, in some regards this characteristic has made me who I am, but it can also be used to push people away and to run.

I have always said that I have no physical fears, let me jump out of a plane, rappel down a building, surf in Costa Rica, or climb mountains. But my fears are emotional - fear of rejection, abandonment, commitment, love and vulnerability. There is no coincidence that those characteristics correspond to growing up a little girl without her Daddy.

I now know that our parents did the best they could with what they had, within their capacity. This blog is not to blame or point fingers. I know that he made the decision that was right for him, and it is time for me to get up off that curb, dust myself off, love myself a little harder, and celebrate the gifts that he gave me. And so with that I say thank you John, Dad, Daddy, Father for giving me life, for your intelligence that I did inherit, my desire to help the world, and to be a part of something bigger. As the clock ticks, I often think of your age and I know that you might not physically be on this planet for much longer, so I will say goodbye and that I hope you have had an incredible life full of love, joy, and laughter. 

When I was a 911 Dispatcher I often hung-up the phone with domestic violence victims and asked myself,"why don't they just leave?" I couldn't understand why I would hear from the same callers time after time, night after night, and yet as the abuse continued to escalate, they continued to endure it.

 I hate to admit this, but I was judgmental as they shared their stories of emotional and physical abuse. I was frustrated and angry as I heard their children crying in the background, and yet they wouldn't get them out of that situation. I was irritated as I had to dispatch another officer to the same house we had already been out to three times that night, as they violated their own restraining orders. I was pissed after they left the shelters only to go back to the men who continued to abuse them.

I was a strong, independent, successful, intelligent, and financially secure female. I was cocky in the though that domestic violence would never impact my own personal life, as it was something that happened to other people, not me. But let me tell you, there is no demographic, and nobody is outside the scope of control. 

So, let me tell you why they don't just leave.

1. Isolation - by the time the abuse occurs you are alone. You are away from your friends and family, you do not have a support system, and you sacrificed so much that you are committed to trying to make it right, even if that means sacrificing yourself. And you continue to isolate yourself more, protecting the man that you love, withdrawing deeper and deeper into yourself. 

2. Love - after every event there is the promise of love, the apologies that give you hope, the belief that you are going to make everything better.....until the next time. There are the gifts, the nights out, the trips, and the experiences that are supposed to make you forget. 

3. Justification - with every new incident there is a new set of justifications - alcohol involved, stress, you poked the bear, you didn't back down, you hit their trigger buttons, you deserved it, if only you were better. And with that often comes their complaints about you - you are too much, too intense, too attractive to other people, too outgoing, too flirtatious, etc. 

4. Sacrifice - there is always something you don't want to lose, and that is exactly the way it was designed. You don't want to give up your home, your family, your image, your money, or countless other things that you just don't want to give up. So you sacrifice yourself instead. 

5. Disbelief - I must be misunderstanding what is occurring, this can't be happening to me, maybe I was drunk, there must be a valid reason for this happening. Were his hands really around my throat? 

6. Judgment - this happens to other people, this does not happen to me.

7. The Good Times - in between the bad times, there are good times, times which make you want to forget those nights of hell. So, you continue to hope that you can just be good, for a longer period of time, and maybe it won't happen again. 

8. Embarrassment - How do I get out? How do I tell the world that after I judged that it happened to me? How do I tell my friends and family that I had yet another failed relationship? 

9. Fear - with each incident it escalates and when you are in the middle of it there are times that you don't recognize your partner, and you feel primal fear. You look the person you are supposed to love in the face and they are unrecognizable. 

10. Blame - you get to a point where you feel that you are to blame. Hell, you may even believe you deserved it. I must have done something to provoke this. Shit, was I flirting with that bartender? Was my skirt too short? Was I too outgoing? Maybe I am too intense?

But, let me tell you something you did not deserve it, you did not provoke it, you did not cause it, and if you need a place to stay, money, a hand to hold, courage, or to talk, I am here. I don't care if it's the first time or the thirteenth, the story is different for all of us. 

For me, three was the magic number. I never looked back. I have spent a lot of hours in therapy, and honestly until she said the word trauma I thought I had come out of the experience unscathed. But just like any life experiences we carry the battle wounds, even if they aren't physically ingrained on our bodies. I got lucky, luckier than a lot of women, in that I walked away without retaliation, permanent injury, or future impact. 

I do not see myself as a victim, as this is a reality of many, a story way too familiar for women throughout this country. If anything I see myself as joining a club, one that nobody asked to be a member of, and the membership card is often invisible. 

However, I do owe a lot of women an apology, for ever doubting you as you called me for help. I understand now that you couldn't just leave, your situation was not easy, that you were trying to survive, and do the best you could. I get it that you were trying to protect your kids by not making the situation worse in that moment, that the abuse is often layered (physical, emotional, financial, etc). I have spent countless years doing research and understanding the cycle of domestic violence, the patterns of abuse, and victimology. You are not alone. 

I hope that at least on one of those 911 calls I was able to make a difference and help someone out of a difficult situation. I hope that I gave another woman the courage to leave, even when I couldn't. I hope that I never make the mistake of judging another woman again, and instead help when they are reaching out in need. And if you can't leave yet, that is ok, still no judgment, and only love. Just know that when you are ready I am here. 

 I was 19 when I made the choice.

It was a choice then, and it was a choice now  that I don't take lightly.

It was the right choice for me, although it is the most personal choice a woman can make.

It is a choice I think of often,  every year on February 17th. 

It is a choice that has shaped many of my life choices.

It was a choice, and still is a choice, that I am grateful I had as an option.

I made the choice not because I was a victim of trauma, sexual assault, rape, or incest.

It was MY choice and MY choice alone.

It is a choice that has impacted my relationships, ended my marriage, and made me decide not to have a family of my own.

It is a a choice that when my ex-husband told me he wanted I family I knew I couldn't give him one, not because of physical limitations, but because I had a child already....a child I would never forget.

For me, at the time, it was the only choice I had. 

I drove to another town far away to avoid the shame and watchful eyes of my small hometown. 

I sat in that doctors office and promised myself I would not bring a child into this world until I could know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the child would be wanted more than life itself. I do not have biological children.

I cried, staring at the car window on the drive home, with my arms around my stomach, feeling as if something was missing.

It is a choice that deals with my body and my body alone. 

It is a choice that in my opinion does not belong in the hands of others - not my God, my government, my family, or my society. 

It is a choice I believe in.

It is a choice that has impacted so many women I know.

It is a choice we often don't talk about.

It is a choice that we often hide due to shame, fear, embarrassment, judgment, and self-loathing.

If it was not your choice, or the choice you believe in, I respect that without question.

It is not the right choice for everyone, but it was the right choice for me.

 I have been on both sides of this fence. I have cheated and I have been cheated on. I would love to stand up here and pass judgment, and please know this is not a post that advocates for cheating and hurting other people, but this is an acknowledgment of what I have learned. I am not proud of what I did, the people I hurt or the decisions I made. But I am 100% proud of the woman I am today and the lessons I have learned. I am proud of myself for learning how to love and respect myself, how to support other women, and what my experiences have taught me. 

I will tell you that when I was cheated on it turned out to be the biggest gift because I would still be in a relationship that was abusive, unhealthy, and straight up not right for me. I will also say that when I cheated it was because my relationship was not in alignment, not growing, not for my higher good, for self-sabotage, and because I wasn't in a good place. Again, not making excuses, just reflecting. 

I also want to say an amazing thank you to my friends and family. I have made the choice to be real with those closest to me and they know the good, bad, and ugly about my past. They have given me the most incredible gift by continuing to love me without judgment, support me, and hold me through the pain....because as I have learned there is pain on both side of the fence.

I hate to say this, but being cheated on and cheating has taught me more in my life than any other life experience. It has taught me how to feel, how to love, how to be vulnerable, how to be real, how to surrender, and how to pray.

I was the other woman and I was the woman who was cheated on and this is what I have learned:

1. Trust your intuition. My relationship ended and I was told I was the most beautiful woman on the planet, but that he was not sexually attracted to me. I went through that break-up thinking it was me - I had done something wrong, been wrong, I was not sexy enough, smart enough, good enough....only to find months later there was someone else. It was honestly the greatest relief, to know that there was no "enough" because there was someone else. Ladies, trust your intuition. There is someone else. And if you are cheating, when you end it, be honest....I know it sounds counterintuitive, but they will appreciate it later. If you are conflicted on your current relationship, your heart knows if they are the one, trust your intuition, and get out if they are not. 

2. Stop blaming yourself. Happy people don't cheat. And I cheated when I wasn't happy and it was a cowardly way out. Not my proudest moment. Should I have found a better way out? 100 fucking percent yes. But I didn't and for those of you who have been cheated on, there is nothing you could have said or done or been differently. That relationship was not right. Don't blame yourself, just celebrate the fact that you survived and trust that the right "one" is coming and until that person arrives be the right "one" for yourself. 

3. People cheat when they can't face themselves. I cheated when I was trying to suppress and numb, afraid to face my demons. It didn't matter that I was married to an amazing man, it didn't matter that I was sabotaging my life. I was running from my emotions, from the 911 calls I took as a Dispatcher, from my abandonment issues that came from never meeting my Dad, from being afraid of commitment. Cheating is personal, its not about the relationship. I know that sounds counterintuitive, but it is a selfish act. I was selfish and I wanted to stop feeling pain. Straight up, I owe apologies right here, and you know who you are.

4. Being the other woman allows you to be worshipped on a level that no other relationship provides. I hate to say this, but straight up men pay more attention to the woman they are trying to sleep with than the woman they are currently sleeping with. I spent my 20s feeding and needing the attention of men, so of course there is no better relationship than the one that required me to avoid my commitment issues, and get a shit ton of attention without having to do shit. Is that healthy? Hell no!! Is that ok? Fuck no! Is it a coping mechanism? Fuck yeah!

5. Cheating allowed me to avoid myself. I had commitment issues, was afraid of love, terrified of vulnerability, and threatened by having two feet in. Having an affair allowed me to avoid facing myself, loving myself, and respecting myself. And I have spent countless years trying to learn these lessons. I now feel with every ounce of my soul, I love with my heart, body and mind. I celebrate love with every cell of my being. And I speak my truth, am authentic with my voice, and when I tell you I love you there is no question that I mean it.

6. Listen to your heart. For a long time I dated tactically. I handled my relationships like they were SWAT operations. I dated the men who were attractive, financially stable, had a great work ethic, were safe, and yet my heart wasn't involved. My head told me to love them and they felt safe. But I am sorry, your head and your heart has to be on the same page. My exes were good guys, but until your heart is involved and your heart is involved and you are head fucking head over heels in love, don't settle. I spent the majority of my life searching for an intellectual, sexual and emotional connection....and I often wondered if it was real or if I was chasing a ghost. It's real!!! Don't settle!

7. Sometimes we have to hit rock bottom to come back up. When I was cheated on and also when I cheated those period of my life turned out to be the greatest times of my life for growth, education and self development. I learned how to respect myself, how to love myself, how to feel - like truly feel, I learned that your heart breaks so that it can get bigger. I also learned that in order for us to overcome our biggest fears, our vulnerabilities, we have to look that shit in the face, and dive afraid anyway. Thank you to my tribe who picked me up when I was on the ground, hating myself, and so incredibly lost. Wish there was an easier way, but for me there wasn't. 

8. It is a myth that once a cheater, always a cheater. I am not proud of my past, but it also made me who I am today. It makes me value love, makes me feel emotions deeper than the average person, makes me honor commitment on a different level, and makes me treasure my person on a different level. I know what it feels like to be betrayed and I also know that when I meet my king I will do everything in my power to make sure they feel safe, loved, protected, and treasured. I no longer take love lightly, so if I tell you I love you, that means I love you with everything I have, and I won't do anything to jeopardize that.

9. I didn't love myself. I cheated because I couldn't look myself in the mirror. Sure, I have always been confident, intelligent, successful in my career, bordering on cocky. But those traits were designed to mirror a little girl who missed meeting or knowing her Daddy, who never felt safe, who was cynical about love, who compartmentalized her emotions out of fear, who ran from commitment and herself, and who couldn't show up for herself, so of course she couldn't show up for someone else. Over time I have learned how to love myself, and well you start to show up differently for other people. I am not currently in a relationship, but I know that when I am I will love and treasure myself as much as I treasure my king.

10. You are perfect just the way you are. Whether you have cheated or been cheated on this experience doesn't define you. Learn from it, reflect on it, love yourself through it, forgive yourself, and believe in yourself. You are perfect and these life experiences shape us, make us beautiful and take us to the next level of this game of life. Get up and rise from those ashes and fucking win!!

I would love to end this blog post by telling you that I found my happily ever after, but not all fairytales end with a glass slipper and a castle. I can't tie this blog post up with a pretty bow, but what I can tell you is that when you are suffering reach for your support system, when its difficult pray/meditate, and if you need me I will always be here to hold your hand without judgment. I refuse to let my past define me, and so I choose to ask for forgiveness for those I hurt, take a moment of gratitude for those who hurt me, and surrender.

I can also tell you that I love myself a little more everyday. I celebrate who I am and I am now able to look myself in the mirror. I know that in my next relationship I will have both of my feet in, I will not run from commitment, I will love them with my head and my heart, I will speak my truth, and I will be vulnerable even when it's uncomfortable.