Respect the truth it reveals....

[Journal Entry 7/4/2024]

Your actions made it clear that I had to stop, so I did. It wasn’t the words you left unspoken that hurt—it was the silence of your behavior that spoke volumes. You distanced yourself, closed off, and left me standing there, uncertain but understanding that the space between us was growing too wide to cross. Every step you took away from me was a wordless message, a signal that you were no longer invested, no longer there.

I fought the urge to let go, desperately wanting to keep trying, to believe that we could still fix what was broken. But your actions, the way you shut down and pulled away, told me there was nothing left to salvage. It wasn’t easy, and it hurt more than I can put into words, but I finally understood. I had to let go, even if it meant admitting to myself that sometimes the hardest thing to do is to listen to the things left unsaid and honor the truth they quietly reveal. I stopped because I realized that respect for you, for myself, and for what we had was in letting go when the time came.

So I stopped. I let go. Because sometimes the hardest thing to do is listen to what isn't being said and respect the truth it reveals.

the potential I saw in him....

[Journal Entry 6/12/2024]

After I walked away, I whispered to myself,

I’m grieving, not just for what we had, but for all the tomorrows I once envisioned with you. For the future we could’ve built, the dreams we could’ve chased together.

The magic between us was undeniable—it was real, it was powerful—but magic alone can’t heal wounds when you refuse to face them. No amount of wonder could have changed what was left unspoken, the truths we avoided.

I saw so much love in your eyes, but it was clouded by fear. Fear of confronting the person staring back in the mirror. Fear of owning your truth.

Your demons won this battle, not because they were stronger, but because you chose to dance with them, to hide behind them, to let them dictate your every move.

But no matter where life takes you, remember—you can't escape yourself. You carry your past, your fears, your choices, with you. Always.

I will forever cherish the moments we shared, the love that once was. But with a heavy heart, I lovingly release you. I set you free, not because I don’t care, but because I must honor our daughter, and that means letting go.

Summer of Love 2023

The summer of 2023 arrived, and I truly believed we were happy. I think he felt a sense of relief knowing that I understood the gravity of his criminal case and, despite everything, had chosen to stay and build a life with him. I had promised him I would wait. Even if he was sentenced to five years in prison—a real possibility—I told him I would raise his daughter and his 16-year-old son, who had moved in with us in early May. I meant it when I said I’d wait for him. My love for him was deep, and I could see a future full of potential for us. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see that potential in himself.

From May to July, the summer passed in a blur, one of the best I’d experienced in a long time. We spent every day savoring the time together, building a family, and creating memories that I would carry with me forever.

In mid-June, he had another hearing, and things started to look more bleak for our newly formed family, but despite the darkening outlook, we remained optimistic. We continued to push forward with hope.

Before the final sentencing hearing, he asked me to pay off his restitution, which amounted to $5,000. He promised to pay me back one day. Along with that request, he suggested he should wear a suit to the sentencing hearing, wanting to make a good impression. Without hesitation, I scheduled an appointment at Joseph A. Bank, and I bought him a brand-new suit, one that I hoped would help him face the difficult day ahead.

Then, on July 19th, 2023—our daughter, Ru, was conceived. In that moment, I truly believe we created her out of love, with the hope and dream of a future that we both wanted so desperately at the time. Even with all the uncertainty surrounding us, we both held onto that spark of hope that our family could overcome whatever challenges lay ahead.

criminal law

I remember attending one of the earliest court hearings with him in mid-May. It was there, for the first time, that I discovered he wasn’t just facing charges for one felony but for five. I can still vividly recall the moment when the judge began reading out the charges in the courtroom, and as each one was announced, he turned and glanced at me. I raised my hand and whispered, "Five." The weight of those words hit me hard, and the reality of the situation sank in.

As we left the courtroom that afternoon, I was struck with the realization that the future I had envisioned would be much more difficult than I had ever imagined. Yet, despite the overwhelming circumstances, I still held on to my belief that people can change. I still believed that everyone deserves a second chance, even if it seemed like a long shot.

In that moment, I truly believed that he deserved that second chance—one to turn his life around. I also believed, with all my heart, that he wanted it too—wanted it with me, with our daughter, and for the future we hoped to build together. Despite the challenges ahead, I wasn’t ready to give up on him, or us.

family law

By mid-May, we had made the decision to pursue full custody and decision-making rights for his daughter. He asked for help in finding a lawyer to represent her, and without hesitation, I offered my support. By June 2024, I had already spent $13,000 to cover our rent for the next six months, $5,000 to secure an attorney for both him and his daughter, and an additional $25,000 to purchase a new family vehicle for the three of us. I became the sole provider for our family, carrying the weight of it all. Despite his constant promises to make things right and build a brighter future—promises I believed so wholeheartedly—I now see how misguided I was.

Looking back, I wouldn't change a thing, because without those decisions, I wouldn’t have Ruby in my life. I believe more than ever that I needed her little ray of hope more than I could have ever imagined. I’m sharing these numbers with you now because, as my story unfolds, they will take on a much deeper meaning.

it doesn't hurt anymore

It's been almost a year. When you’ve fallen, when you’ve hit rock bottom and watched yourself shatter into a million pieces, remember—no one is staying to help you pick up the fragments. No one will sort through your brokenness to decide which parts are worth saving. That decision is yours to make. So take your time. Stay down for as long as you need. This moment matters. You’ve already been broken, and that’s the hardest part. Now, you can go slow.

You thought the breaking was the hardest chapter? It wasn’t. Turn the page. The next chapter is longer. It’s the healing. The rise. The comeback. It’s the birth of the new you. It’s not easy, but you’re strong. You’re brave. And you’re worth every effort.

You’ll have to let go of parts of yourself that no longer serve you. You’ll leave behind what you’ve outgrown. We’re no longer shrinking to fit where we don’t belong. We’re going all in. Every wound, every scar, every drop of blood, every tear—it was all part of your journey. It was all worth it for this moment. For the person you are becoming.

You’ve had to hurt to get here, to become the version of you who knows exactly who she is, who knows who she’s not, and who she will never be again. Drop the apologies. We’re no longer sorry for who we are, for what we had to do to get here, or for how long it took to learn our worth.

Step out of the box of everyone else’s expectations. Walk into the woman you’ve become, the one who’s comfortable in her own skin. It’s time. You’ve earned it.

We no longer wear the weight of anyone else’s opinions. We no longer let anyone else define our value. Because now, we know. We finally know.

And now, it’s time to celebrate.

It doesn’t hurt anymore.

Now, go show the world what you’re made of.

moving in together again......

I honestly can't even remember how we ended up back together this time, but by April, he was moving into my townhouse after being evicted from his 5-bedroom house in Centennial. Looking back now, it kind of makes sense. They say no one falls in love faster than a narcissist who needs a place to stay.

So, it was him, his daughter, and me, all living together in the townhouse. His daughter was now with us full-time, and honestly, I loved our little family and the new routine. It felt good to finally be a family.

But, of course, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. I vividly remember, not long after he moved in, when he broke two of my ribs. And shortly after that, he bear-maced me as I was trying to run upstairs to escape him. This time, it also affected his daughter, because the mace fumes filled the entire townhouse.

I could barely move when my ribs were broken. The pain was excruciating; I couldn't even lift my comforter off the bed.

A friend from Loveland came over soon after it happened. He helped me downstairs and onto the couch, plugged in my phone charger, and made sure I was settled in. He offered to take me to the hospital, but I refused. I didn't know it then, but those would be the last words he ever spoke to me, as he tragically died in a motorcycle accident a few months later.

He said to me, "Tara, I can't keep coming to help you if you're just going to keep going back to him."

I really wish I'd listened to my friend, but of course, I know now that this isn’t how everything ended.

back to my town home and on my own...

By this point, not only did I still believe I was in love with him, but I also cared deeply for his little girl. We ended up staying together, it was about this time that I found out that he was behind on rent and facing eviction. To make matters worse, a repo man was knocking on the door, looking for his truck, which was being repossessed. On top of that, his energy bill was so overdue that his electricity was about to be shut off.

He was preparing to go to rehab, and eventually, he entered the treatment facility. Meanwhile, I was left alone in a big, empty house with no heat, relying on the fireplace for warmth. It was mid-January in Colorado, so it was freezing.

On the third day of his 30-day stay in rehab, he unexpectedly walked through the front door. He didn't realize I was home since I was supposed to be out of town with a friend, but our plans changed last minute. But instead of just walking in alone, he came in with his baby's mom. Whi broke him out of rehab.

I confronted him in the living room, and he was speechless. The coward that he was, he just ran out the front door with her, not saying a word to me.

I immediately called a good friend and told her what had just happened. She and her boyfriend drove from Loveland to Denver with a trailer, and together we packed up my things and put them into storage, so I could finally leave him — or so I hoped.

After about a week, I got everything out of his place and into storage. I can't clearly remember how long I stayed with friends, but I know I couldn't move back into my townhome for another two months.

On February 1st, the guy subletting my townhome came by to give me the rent, and I briefly explained what had been going on. He offered to leave a month earlier than planned if it would help me.

So, by mid-March, I was finally moving back into my townhome. Alone. But it wouldn't last long.

the Third Time I Tried to Leave

It was early January when I was told that he was going to be leaving town in the middle of a snow storm to "go and help a friend" move a vehicle back to Denver.

But the real truth was he was driving to Alamosa to move his daughter and her mother back to Denver. 

He then chose to move them both into his friends house without mentioning a word to me. 

It was my birthday and instead of coming home and celebrating my birthday. He decided to take $800 of my money and drive his daughters mom and him up to Black Hawk for the night.

I then sat alone in his home, for two weeks without hearing a single word from him. 

I then again for a 3rd time decided that staying in his house was no longer where I needed to be.

He was supposed to be checking into rehab. In the next couple of days. And I once again planned to start packing my belongings to put into storage and I had planned to stay with a r friend for another month while I waited for my townhome to open  up again for the person who I sublet it to fulfill his last month stay.

One day as I was packing he came back to his home and this time with his daughter. He began to apologize again, making the same excuses. 

I tried very hard again to stand on my own two feet and not let his manipulation hold me back.

To avoid the continued conflict I decided to take off and try and avoid contact with him while he was there.

I told his friend, the same friend that assured me that he wouldn't take his own life, called me in a panic and told me that I needed to come back to the house it was true what I was saying and he pulled the trigger with the gun pointed to his head but the gun misfired and didn't go off....

the strength you don't see......

You may not always realize it, but you're stronger than you give yourself credit for.

It's in the way you rise, despite being drained.

It's in the way you smile, even when your heart is heavy.

It's in the way you keep showing up, even when the world gives you every reason to retreat.

Strength isn’t always loud.

It isn’t about constantly standing tall, moving mountains, or winning battles.

Sometimes, strength is quiet.

Sometimes, it's simply choosing to try again,

believing that brighter days are ahead, even when you can't see them yet.

So don't doubt yourself.

You've made it through every tough day, every heartbreak,

every moment that seemed impossible.

And you’re still here, standing strong.

Still standing.

Still fighting.

That is strength.

And it’s been within you all along.

It goes on and on and on

After he returned from Alamosa with his daughter, I decided to bring over the Christmas presents I had bought for her. I had missed him and wanted a chance to hear his familiar excuses again.

Once again, he threatened his own life while sitting on the floor of his walk-in closet, making me feel like he had made yet another mistake and assuring me it would never happen again.

I tried talking to his friend about the constant threats of him taking his own life every time I tried to leave. His friend reassured me that he didn’t actually mean it, that he was just saying it.

So, despite my friend's advice, I moved my belongings back into Drew's house. Things seemed fine for a week or two, until I found out that he had a virtual court session for a case he claimed was from 2021, and that he was currently on probation.

I knew he was supposed to be taking UA tests, and he had told me he was attending probation meetings every month. I was aware the charges were for possession but didn’t know the details and never asked, since from the outside, it looked like he was doing what he needed to—weekly drug tests and monthly meetings.

But then he became uneasy and on edge, telling me he would now need to attend a 30-day treatment program to make things look good for the courts. I didn’t fully understand why, but I assumed it was just another lie.

Over the next couple of weeks, he began looking for treatment facilities—but he wasn’t doing the research himself. Instead, his daughter’s mom was helping him. I expressed my concern about why she, who was apparently struggling with her own addiction, was helping him. After all, that was the reason we were taking care of his infant daughter.

In mid-January, he finally had a virtual court hearing, and I made sure to sit in and listen to it so I could find out what was really going on.

During the virtual hearing, I learned the truth: he hadn’t been taking the UAs or attending the meetings he had told me about. In fact, he had missed over 42 UAs, and he was supposed to have started treatment months earlier—but never did.

Started to see the cracks within our walls

After living together for about a month, I finally got to meet his little girl, and from the moment I saw her, I was hooked. I instantly loved her. She started staying with us more and more, and he often complimented my motherly instincts, praising me for being such a great mom.

I loved spoiling his daughter and spending time with her. Honestly, one of the biggest things that drew me to him was watching him be such a devoted dad. He was completely in love with her, and it showed.

I always believed my ability to be a stepmom came from having an incredible stepfather who treated me like his own. I'd also raised my bonus daughter during my 18-year marriage, so step-parenting felt natural to me. And the fact that his little girl, who was just 4 months old at the time, was so easy to love made it even easier. I enjoyed buying her the latest baby gear and clothes—everything had changed so much since I raised my nearly grown kids.

Around November 2024, I started noticing the lies—lies that still continue to this day. At that time, I had money from selling my marital home after my divorce. I was the one paying for everything: groceries, baby items, catching up on his bills, getting his truck licensed so he could drive again, paying his overdue water bill, and countless other expenses.

In December, I brought him and his daughter back to my hometown to meet my parents and family. On our way out of Denver, I saw text messages on his phone between him and his daughter's mom. He once again assured me that nothing was going on between them. When we got to my parents’ house, the first night there, all he wanted to talk about was his daughter’s mom, even though it was his first time meeting my family.

I was hurt and frustrated, but I tried to brush it off and pretend it didn't bother me. On Christmas morning, I woke up to a text he had sent her saying, "I miss you and us."

That was the breaking point for me. Not wanting to cause a scene in front of my family, we packed up and left for Denver before my family celebrated Christmas. On the drive home, he twisted the conversation, making it seem like I was the problem, claiming I was doubting him and our relationship. Somehow, it became my fault that this was happening.

When we got back to Denver, he immediately told me he was heading to Alamosa to spend the rest of Christmas with his mom and his daughter’s mom.

This was the second time he had cheated on me, and I was ready to leave. While he was in Alamosa, I had a friend help me pack up most of my things and move them to her house.

By the time he returned, I had planned to be completely moved out.

How did something like this happen to me....

Here’s what typically happens: At first, they’ll seem to adore everything about you, showering you with affection and mirroring your emotions. You’ll feel a deep, soulful connection. It’s intoxicating—like you’ve met someone who truly sees you. They’ll call you their soulmate, the one, or the best thing that ever happened to them. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, they’ll explode over something trivial. Something so small it will leave you shocked, confused, and wondering: What just happened? Because of the bond you share, you’ll want to fix it. You’ll try to talk things out, resolve the issue, and get back to a good place. But here’s the truth: They’re not interested in understanding or resolving anything. They want control.

If they’re jealous, you’ll start making small changes—adjusting what you wear, who you talk to, or even how you handle business relationships—to keep the peace. But over time, these small adjustments will become bigger. You’ll start cutting off meaningful relationships, second-guessing your choices, and isolating yourself. Why? Because their insecurity, jealousy, and need for control demand it. They may even give you the silent treatment as a subtle form of manipulation, but it’s still about control. The outbursts will continue, initially appearing every couple of weeks. They’ll apologize and return to the person you fell in love with for a few good days, making you believe they’re capable of change. But the time between those apologies will get shorter—and eventually, it will stop altogether.

What’s left? Bad moods, tantrums, insults, silent treatment, gaslighting, and even disappearing for hours or days, leaving you with deep wounds of rejection. And here’s the hardest truth: You’ll never see the person you originally fell in love with again—unless they want something from you. If your partner rages or gets angry over every little thing, this is a huge red flag. 🚩 People who behave like this are experts at breaking you down, making you question your own reality, and stripping away your independence. They want control because that’s how small and powerless they feel inside. Don’t ignore this. Don’t try to explain it away. You deserve better. This behavior will escalate to physical abuse—emotional and verbal manipulation come first, followed by cheating, lying, and more.

Don’t wait for someone to change if they don’t see any problem with their behavior, cycles, or toxic traits. This is who they truly are, and this is their character. Find support from friends, family, and resources, but get out. Narcissists have no shame, remorse, or care for your well-being—only their own. They will destroy you. Seek healing through Jesus Christ and know that you are worthy in His eyes. 💜

Moving in together...

After two months together, we decided to move in. He was living in a spacious 5-bedroom home in Centennial, had a big Chevy truck, a Harley, and often told me he worked installing windows and doors. But when COVID hit, his business suffered, and he began struggling financially. At the time, I was living in a townhouse and in the middle of a long, drawn-out divorce with no end in sight. I knew it was moving fast, but the plan was for me to sublet my townhouse, and together, we'd save money.

In the beginning he was always so sweet and caring, attentive to my needs and those of my children, whom he hadn't yet met. In my mind, it felt like the perfect situation—he even let me decorate the house and bring in my kids' belongings, setting up rooms for both of them. I also prepared and decorated the room next to ours for his daughter.

We had a spare room, which we turned into my art studio. At the time, I had gotten really into pour painting and had started getting good at it. He was always so proud of my work, showing my paintings to anyone who came over. A lot of his friends, as well as mine, still have my paintings in their homes today.

It was easy for me to fall in love with him, and I know I loved him for the potential I saw in him. But because of his unresolved past trauma, he often self-sabotaged, and I found myself getting hurt and forgiving him over and over again.

The first time I tried to leave....

After nearly two weeks of spending 24/7 together at my townhouse, I learned that there was a child involved in his past relationship—a very young child who was only 3 months old at the time. I was also told that he didn't  believe the child was his. I even rode with him to drop off the envelope for the paternity test.  I was told that the child and her mother were living with his mother because the mother struggled with addiction, and his mom was providing a safe environment for both the child and her. I didn't ask him many questions because I didn't want to pry, but I did talk to our mutual friends to learn more about the situation. They told me that the relationship had ended long before the baby was born, due to the mother’s infidelity and addiction issues. Everyone, and I mean everyone, assured me that their relationship was over for a long time.

As time went on, however, I began to notice signs that suggested their relationship might not be as over as everyone claimed. But I tried not to read too much into it. Nearly a month into our relationship, he became really upset, telling me that his ex and their child were leaving for Kansas and that he feared he wouldn't be able to see his daughter for a long time. I encouraged him to go visit his child in Alamosa, where she was staying with his mom. He mentioned that he was low on cash, and I can’t quite remember why he couldn’t take his own car, but I offered him mine along with $300 to help cover the trip.

That’s when he first cheated on me. While he was away in Alamosa “visiting his child,” I expressed some of my concerns to our mutual friends, and once again, they all assured me that his relationship with his ex was long over and that it was only about the child now. But I started to feel uneasy in the relationship and ultimately decided I wanted to end things. When he returned to Denver with my car, I told him that I wasn’t comfortable anymore, didn’t want to come between his new family, and although I liked him, maybe things would work out for us in the future.

He sent me long, sweet messages, even threatening to end his life because he couldn’t bear losing "the girl he’d always dreamed of." I fell right back into the relationship. Loving him was so easy for me, and I thought we had such a deep, beautiful connection. What I didn’t realize at the time was that everything was built on lies.

How it all started

In September of 2022, I attended a homecoming celebration for a friend who had suffered a traumatic brain injury in a scooter accident.

At the time, I had been separated and in the process of divorcing my husband after 18 years of marriage. It had been almost a year since I filed, and I was still adjusting to the changes.

During the event, I walked onto the patio and saw a guy sitting there. He had broad shoulders, ripped jeans, and a sleeveless Harley Davidson shirt. As the evening went on, this stranger stood up to offer me support, stepping in to protect me from some of the ongoing tension I was facing from my ex during the long, drawn-out divorce.

In that moment, I felt a rush of emotions and realized I had my first crush since filing for divorce almost a year ago.

I remember leaving that celebration and immediately calling my mom. She could tell from my voice just how excited I was. She was happy to hear my enthusiasm, especially since I had been in a low place for a while.

Less than a week later, one of my friends was at my townhouse when she got a call from this mystery guy I had a crush on. I hadn't told anyone about him, except for my mom. My friend mentioned she was at my place and that they were planning to meet up later that evening.

As soon as she hung up the phone, I excitedly confessed that I had a huge crush on him. She laughed and said, "That's funny because he asked me for your number—he noticed you, too."

And just like that, everything changed. The very next night, I met him at a friend's house for casual drinks, and from there, we went on a double date.

We headed to 1Up in Centennial, a bar with retro drinks and an endless selection of arcade games. He showed up on a Harley, and I’d never ridden a motorcycle before, but without hesitation, I jumped on the back. Instantly, I fell in love with the bike.

We arrived at 1Up and met our friends. The evening was amazing—our connection was immediate.

At the end of the night, he walked me to my car. We exchanged phone numbers and said our goodbyes.

The very next day we connected on the phone, and before 3pm that day, we were out riding the bike, stopping for drinks, and hanging out with friends. We spent the next two weeks practically inseparable.

To You, who regrets being a part of my story....

I want to thank you, not with bitterness but with clarity. Your role in my life taught me lessons I might not have learned otherwise. 

Thank you for the doubts you planted in me.   I grew stronger by uprooting them. 

Thank you for the times you turned your back. I found the strength to stand on my own. 

Thank you for showing me what love isn’t.   So I could better understand what it truly is. 

So, while you may regret being part of my life, I don’t regret the lessons you inadvertently gave me. 

Those lessons shaped me into someone resilient, self-aware, and more capable of discerning what—and who—is truly meant to be in my life. 

Because now, I know what I deserve, and it’s far greater than anything you ever offered.