6-7 years ago, I found myself in one of the most chaotic and confusing times of my life.
My daughter was battling an eating disorder, I was home-schooling her, struggling financially, and holding everything together with little left for myself.
That’s when he appeared.
He was charming, helpful – even generous. He donated to my son’s fundraising campaign and offered support at a time I was vulnerable. It felt like a gift from the universe… but it was anything but.
What I didn’t know then is that narcissists hunt for kind-hearted, nurturing women who are struggling, because they know we’ll forgive the chaos they’re about to bring.
At first, he played the hero – offering help, solving problems, showering me with attention. But it wasn’t long before things shifted.
Jealousy. Accusations. Lies. Manipulation. He would search my phone, twist my words, and convince me that I was the problem.
And over time, I started to believe it.
Then came the fire.
One warm May evening, he decided to burn garden waste far too close to my house. I remember asking, “Isn’t that too near the wall?” He brushed it off.
Minutes later, the fire was out of control – our shed gone, the fence alight, flames licking the side of the house.
In a panic, I grabbed my dogs, my daughter, my phone – called 999 and watched my life go up in smoke.
And still, he found a way to make it about him. Accused me of flirting with the firemen. Later, even suggested I had manipulated him into starting the fire for insurance. The gaslighting was relentless.
But that fire was more than a disaster.
It was a wake-up call.
Because sometimes, life literally has to burn down around you before you can see clearly. The fire stripped everything back – my home, my safety, my illusions. But in the ashes, I found something I’d forgotten I had:
Me.
In the chaos that followed, I was forced to step up. Every day brought decisions – about insurance, tradesmen, rebuild timelines. I had to ask for help, speak with clarity, take charge. And with each step, something shifted. I stopped second-guessing myself. I started hearing my own voice again.
People showed up – kind, respectful, decent people – and I began to realise that the way he’d treated me wasn’t normal, and it certainly wasn’t love.
That’s when the truth landed:
I was never broken. I was buried.
Under the stress, the guilt, the gaslighting – I had lost sight of who I was. But she was still there, waiting for me to come back.
Eventually, I ended it. He didn’t go quietly, but I did it anyway. And the moment I cut ties, I felt my power return – like a flame being lit inside me for the first time in years.
From this crazy part of my life, I learnt some important lessons…
Your inner power never leaves you.
Even when someone tries to control, diminish, or manipulate you – your light is still there. It might feel hidden, but it can’t be destroyed.
Not everyone deserves a seat at your table.
Some people don’t want to see you shine – they only want what serves them. Protect your energy by being intentional about who you let close.
Pay attention to how people make you feel.
Do they uplift you, celebrate you, and encourage your growth? Or do they drain you, make you doubt yourself, and steal your spark? That difference matters.
Taking back your power starts with awareness.
When you see clearly who is truly in your corner – and who isn’t – you can choose to step away from what diminishes you and toward what nourishes you.
Your radiance is your responsibility.
No one else can guard it for you. The bravest thing you can do is protect your light fiercely, and surround yourself with people who want to see you shine even brighter.
All my love, Claire x
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