no one is coming to {SAVE} you

Alright people, get a coffee or a glass of wine - this is a long and raw post. I think I will eventually write a book on this whole experience, but for now it will be a chapter by chapter thing on this blog... enjoy - and deepest gratitude for stopping and reading. 


I had just returned from a year living in New Zealand; a year that to this date was one of my favorite years on this planet.  I lived in a placed called Mount Maunganui – it was a beachy town, I worked at Jenny Craig and also at a café on the ocean. I loved my work. I rode my pink bike everywhere. I had a great tribe. We drank cheap wine on the beach at sunset; I ran my 1st 10km race there; I found joy. Coming home was jolting for my soul – I wanted to stay in NZ.

The bitter part of coming home from NZ was the reality that my 5 year relationship with my aussie boyfriend was coming to an end. We had fought battles to make this thing work, and the situation simply did not work out in our favour. Life had a different plan.

My heart was broken, but I didn’t know how to admit the pain in my heart due to my failed relationship, I simply did not have the emotional maturity to feel heart ache and grief – instead I was just pissed, and I felt like it was all his fault. Whatever, I didn’t need him anyway. I remember being so fed up with life. I was back at Jenny Craig, I was really miserable and felt an over all sense of hopelessness. My heart was hurting and it was showing up as anger. I felt like a ping pong – sometimes I would be in extreme joy and really motivated in life, and other times I would feel defeated and abandoned.

Mostly, at that time, I felt abandoned by what I refer to as God.

My whole life I had always had a deep relationship with the divine. Call it what you want – God, the Universe, the Creator – anything – I believed it. I prayed to it. I found deep comfort in it. Until those days…

I remember a particular night those 4 years ago as if it happened yesterday – I was at home, I was in the bath and I was crying, no, wait, I was sobbing. I was yelling at God. I was swearing him off. I didn’t need his shit anymore, I could do this life on my own. I was so pissed, my heart was so hardened, I was so distant and cold and hateful.

When was something going to work? Life felt like an uphill battle in my minds eye, I felt like I had no direction, no purpose.

I was angry. I didn’t know it then, but at the time there was a hulluva lot of subconscious bullshit going on, a lot of fear driven vibes in my heart and brain. I didn’t trust life. I didn’t trust men. I felt deeply alone, deeply abandoned.

You see, when I was 6 years old, we were on summer holidays and I remember my Dad tucking us into bed and saying what he always said: “Good Night Sweet Dreams God Bless I Love You”; when I woke up in the morning my life had changed. My Dad had a brain aneurysm that night, I never saw him again. He died. He left. Just like that. He left my Mom with 4 children – I was 6, my sister 4 and my twin brothers were 1. Who fucking does that? Just leaves. I had put on a happy face about it all as I grew up. I saw the glass as half full, I could see the lessons and the blessings in his passing – I was in total denial, I was deeply wounded, and I had no idea.

Deep down I didn’t trust God. Deep down I didn’t trust humans to be there, I expected them to leave – and I can see clearly now that when my aussie relationship didn’t work that I was outraged because I knew it would end that way – it was a self fulfilling prophecy; and that pissed me off.

Anyway, back to the bath that dreary night.

I had a lot of under-the-surface shit going on, and no emotional maturity to see it for what it was. I was sick of showing up in life and having things blow up in my face. I was sick of taking leaps of faith and following my dreams to see that nothing came of it. I was impatient, and I did not have the capacity to see the bigger picture. I wanted to be saved. I wanted to be noticed for how beautiful I was and to become an international model. I wanted to become a famous author and international speaker – but I wasn’t putting myself out there – I wasn’t writing, I never spoke in front of people. Vision bards were not doing it for me. This whole ra-ra that I believed before I studied life-coaching was a pile of shit, I couldn’t even believe in the beliefs I had always had, everything was crumbling.

I decided in that moment that I needed a man to save me. I decided in that moment that I wanted to manifest this (and yes, I did write a list and manifest it – not smart, Kori!):

A man who was an engineer or some sort of a left-brained sorta thing. I didn’t want him to be like me, I wanted the opposite. I wanted a person who didn’t put me on a pedestal, I wanted him to disagree with my beliefs; I wanted a challenge. Really, I wanted to be saved. I wanted someone to help me accomplish my dreams, or at least create a reality that I could be happy not accomplishing my dreams. I wanted to be taken care of.

Looking back, I can see what I was longing for. I was longing for what a 6-year-old hurt little girl would want – she would want her father. My father was a huge man; he was tall and handsome. He was in construction and was a successful business owner. He could fix anything. So many pictures in old albums are him and I hanging out – building snowmen, riding horses, chasing ducks, fixing things. I had long brown pigtails and little overalls, and I was always next to him – his little sidekick.

That’s what I wanted, father energy. And I was stuck in daughter energy. I was irrational, and highly emotional, I was distant and a major door slammer. If I didn’t like you I would cut ties with you and never talk to you again. I had a temper that I had difficulty managing. I wanted to be saved and hugged. I had no emotional maturity. I was an old soul stuck in a destructive teenager mind-set. I knew I was capable of more, but I would disappointment myself frequently by showing up less than what I was capable. My hurt 6-year-old self who was fearful of life and didn’t trust anyone was running my adult show – and I didn’t know it.

What I needed was to heal that 6-year-old self’s broken heart. I needed to heal the wounds of abandonment. But I didn’t know that then. So instead I manifested a monster into my life.

On Feb 28th, 3 weeks after I turned 27 I met him – the engineer. And I surrendered into a very unhealthy idea that my prince on a white horse had shown up, and I was going to be ok.

pic {one}: my 27th bday ----- pic {two}: feb 28th

pic {one}: my 27th bday ----- pic {two}: feb 28th

Holy shit was I ever wrong.

On Feb 28th I gave up me. I gave up believing in God. I gave up self-care. I quickly stopped believing in magic, and any scrapes of faith I had were kyboshed as this man made fun of or put down what I had to say. It was so shocking, no one had every been than forward with me – I liked it on a strange level, I thought he was strong and smart and opinionated. It got old really fast however, I started identifying it as mean and abusive, but it was too late to act, my strength was gone. 

It all happened so fast – but things do get real fucked up when you abandon self, and they do so in the fastest way possible. I started wearing clothes that he liked, and hanging out with a new crowd of people, I started having this weird dependent attitude – energetically handing all my control directly into his hands. Within a few months of being with him my best friend decide that she was moving out of our downtown condo. Do you get that? My BEST FRIEND cold not tolerate what she was seeing happening and she had to leave. Instead of me seeing her opinion and her care for me, I was pissed at her. I cut the cords with her, I chose my boyfriend – I man I had known for a few mere months over my best friend – a woman I had known for years. I stopped talking to her. I didn’t need her either.

Things got bad, and they got bad really fast. I remember our 1st weekend as a “couple” and he had gone away on a trip with the guys. He was a psycho path to me – he messaged me all night long accusing me of cheating on him with my ex in Australia (something that was obviously not possible as he was in Australia and I was in Canada) he called me names, I had never seen such a display of behaviour – so I excused it, surly no one is that crazy? He must have just drank too much, we all mess up, right? Besides he promised to bring me home a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes – my self worth had been dumped in the trash for the hope of expensive shoes? I had truly lost my mind. 

I didn't even know what Christian Louboutin was, but it was a rush, something happened in those days that was adrenaline'y, addictive and dramatic. It took a hold on me. Ho told me he loved me the 1st weekend I stayed at his house, I thought it was too fast and it didn't feel right - I said it back anyway. 

My intuition became my worst enemy. I was in a constant battle with my self.

I started drinking aaaaaaalot of booze, spending most of my mon-wed hung-over and depressed from wild and out of control weekends and then starting the cycle over and partying like a rock star over the weekend. I was getting into drugs in an unhealthy way. I was living a double life – I was teaching fitness, and preaching nutrition all the while I was getting wasted on the weekends – the amount of shame that followed me around suffocated me. My ex had complete control over me, and only because I handed it over to him.

My behaviour was dangerous and out of control. 

My ex-boyfriend and I got into bad fights on the weekends – physical violence, emotional abuse, name-calling – it was wild. It damaged me, deeply. I had no idea this sort of thing existed, and there I was – energetically chained into it. He told me repeatedly that I was useless and worthless, and the saddest part was that I believed him. I gave up on my dreams. I was miserable. I was so low. I knew in my heart that I wasn’t useless, but I had a sick and deranged need to prove this to him. He had to know how use-FULL I was, and I was determined to prove him wrong. 

A healthy person would walk away – I couldn’t, I was addicted. He made me feel lower than anything else I have ever experienced, and yet, when the fight was over and his big arms would hug me – nothing felt better; he was the only thing that could pick me up again. I couldn’t leave either, he scared me when I tried to. He would send me crazy messages all night long, pictures of new girls he was dating and sleeping with – literally anything to make me feel like a useless human – and it worked.

The relationship was a roller coaster; I had lost complete control.

One day I will write more on this – but this is a blog post, not a book…. But lets get back to my original point:

It was because I so desperately wanted a saviour that I gave up my control. I was so deeply wounded that I believed in my heart of hearts that I could not longer face this life on my own.

I gave up control. I lost hope. 

I didn’t believe there was good for me in this life, I believed I was just an angry, cold bitch – so what was the point anyway? I believed I had found my knight in shining armour – even though there was a desperate intuitive voice telling me to get the hell OUT. That intuitive voice haunted me. I had the worst anxiety I had ever had. I had unbelievable night terrors on a regular bases, waking up in complete and total tears. 

He took me on trips, he bought me expensive clothes and somehow I forgot that I am in fact capable of traveling on my own (I had lived in Australia for a year - on my own, and New Zealand for a year - on my own) and I somehow got confused enough that I believed that $600 true religion jeans meant I was worthy. I like 2nd hand stores! I like stores that care about ethics – I’m not a brand name clothing person – but I thought I was then. My self-worth was non-existant. 

Fast-forward 3 years of a hell-relationship and I had decided that it was time to leave. I actually think that life  decided it was time for me to leave – things had gotten so bad that I simply could not have stayed; leaving was literally the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

I was numb. My hair was dry, and I had scaly bags under my eyes. I didn’t see joy, any anymore. I found myself sitting in therapy and I literally at that point believed that I was there to fix my relationship – can you believe that?

I was there to FIX MY RELATIONSHIP. Can.You.Believe.It? 

That is why I say that life had plans for me to leave, I was still hell bent on making things work. The irony of the shell of my human self-sitting in a therapy office on my own to save a relationship is crazy. At the minimum I would hope to have enough self-love to see that if the man doesn’t even come to therapy to save it – there is nothing to save.

I could not see things for what they were. I was broken. I felt like damaged goods, unlovable. Trash. No good for nutthin'.

It took a lot to come out on the other side. A lot of therapy; a lot of support; and a lot of reflection. It took me looking truthfully at my soul, it took me admitting that I hated God and I miss my dad. It took me retracting back to my 6-year-old self to grieve what had happened so many, many moons ago.

I had to surrender – no one was coming to save me. My relationship had left me in the dumps of hell. My father was not coming back to kick my ex’s ass for treating his little girl like that. No one could do my work for me. No one was paying for my therapy, no one could feel the immensity of my soul, no one was going to offer me a life path. I learned in those dark days that the only way through the pain was through it – the soul swamps are not equipped with any other way of passage other than through it. Not over, not under – only through.

And no one would be there to carry me. I had to walk to this walk on my own. Oh how I wanted someone to carry me, I didn't think this was a feat I could do - but with support and some serious hero's in my life, I put my rain books on and I bravely entered the swamps of my soul - and one foot in front of the other, I explored what it is for me to be human, I peered into the darkest crevasses in my soul. 

Hero number one: I had my therapist by my side. I saw him religiously every week. He let me email him every day, and I did; oh gosh did he ever get emails from me. Not once did he ever answer my questions or tell me what to do. He never picked me up or carried me, no matter how much I wanted him too. He just witnessed my pain. He just reminded me to sow down and self care. I remember after I had come through on the other side, and he told me that he was praying for me - to this day, not alot has meant more in my life than hearing that. It was a slow process.

I had another hero by my side with this one too – her name is Crystal Andrus Morissette. I went to a women's retreat (ironically that my ex had suggested and paid for me to go) that truly changed my life, Crystal was leading it - it was called Simply Woman. I went because my ex told me that what she does is in alignment with what I wanted to do with my life, so I went sort of in the name of 'research'... it is easy to see now that life put that course in my path for a much bigger purpose than research.  I saw something in Crystal than I had in me – and so I reached out to her after the seminar – I wore my vulnerability and I told her what was going on. She related to me, she took the time to talk to me. She asked me over and over again “Kori, what would courage have you do?”. That was pivotal for me, and something that stuck with me. If I were to ever reach my potential and show up in life with what God has planned for me, I was not going to be able to do it with this situation I had found myself in. I simply had to find the strength to leave. This past retreat that I was on yesterday, my biggest take aways from Crystal were 2 things: {one}: She emphasized to us that: "No one is coming to save you", that really hit home for me - empowered women must stand up in the face of adversity. and {two}: my story needs to be told. 

pic {one}: 2 years ago ----- pic {two}: yesterday 

pic {one}: 2 years ago ----- pic {two}: yesterday 

And my Tribe - a fundamental hero. I had my girlfriends, my bootcampers  and my family who were unconditional – they loved me no matter how many times I fucked up. No matter how many times I went back to him, or lost my way – they loved me, they taught me there was no shame, they taught me to forgive myself. They showed me my worth and slowly but surely my frequency no longer matched my ex's I could no longer cave and fall back into his manipulative arms. 

Slowly I learned self-love. Slowly I found my spark back. It was so delicate in those days, and the slightest gust of wind could blow it out and completely unravel me – I learned to fiercely protect myself. I came unglued more than once, and every time it happen I would show up in therapy expecting Marucs to lash me out - and 100% of the time it was a safe an non-judgemental place to be. He was unconditional. He didn't hate me the way I did. It was all love in therapy and it taught me that it was safe to let go of shame, I was not my actions and what was important was slowing down and getting back on track. A billion times over I had to slow down and try again, and again and again. I still have to be conscious to stay awake at the wheel, we all do. I learned to set strong boundaries. I learned to stand on my own 2 feet. I learned that NO ONE WAS COMING TO SAVE ME, and more importantly I learned that I am beyond capable of showing up in this life time in the most powerful ways.

That relationship left me near dead, and suicidal. The other hero I had was my dog Merlot, I do not believe I would be here to type this story if he was not sitting by my side each night, and thats the vulnerable and sad truth. 

That relationship left me scared, hopeless and filled with so much co-dependency and self hate I didn’t think I would ever recover.

That experience also taught me that I am so much more powerful than I could ever imagine. Oh my good grief my light can shine bright!! It taught me that love comes from self, 1st and foremost. It is up to no one to save me, or instill worthiness in me. That is my job.

That experience taught me the strength of femininity; it taught me that being woman is about being soft and vulnerable; fierce and courageous.

Being a woman is about saying no, and setting clear boundaries; it is about reaching out to your tribe and knowing that we can not do this life on our own, it is important to receive. I learned that being female is powerful.

Vulnerability is courage.

Orgasms unleash creativity.

Journaling is crucial to emotionally purge and let go.

 I learned a lot.

I fell in love with me. I forgave my self. I grieved that woman who I was for those 3 years, I felt so sad for her. I forgave God, and I started practicing faith again. I forgave my father for leaving, and I learned to grieve his death.

I learned that it is deeply important to embody and honor the darkens. I took a wild leap of faith and studied holistic nutrition. I didn’t know how I would pay for it, or why I was studying it – but it did it anyway, because it felt right. It was a decision I made 100% on my own, I didn’t fret about what others would think about me, I didn’t ask for support or help. That was a big deal as I was always so overly concerned with others opinions. I just did it. I just leapt and did it and it was a game changer for me. I remembered that I was smart, I was fucking good at nutrition. It carved the way for some of the coaching I was doing at the time – impacting a lot of people, and learning that I really love impacting woman.

I loved the vantage point that I had of intimately knowing self hate, and the new found perspective I had on the strength of being female. It was powerful, it was fun. I still struggled in those days, but I was learning coping techniques. I was learning to trust men; through my therapists example I was seeing that men can be soft and intuitive, and strong and masculine all at once. They can be successful and impactful in the world and still believe in a higher power.It was peculiar to me, it was new and I was fascinated and cautious and interested and scared – all at once.

I started to show up in life. My eyes started to sparkle. Clients told me I looked different, better. I was proud of my work. I had faith again. I was learning self-care and coping techniques. I was learning the vast depths that humans can feel. I was learned the complexity it was to be me. I was falling in love with me. I was learning to look in the mirror and love deeply who I saw standing there – not because of how I looked, but because of the fierce dedication I had to protecting my heart – that was a sexy quality, I love that about me.

I wad able to handle other peoples darkness better, I could see their light and there darkness didn't scare me, I thought it was beautiful. 

And then I met Shane, on tinder. He was the 1st man other than my therapist that valued my quirky-ness. Shane liked that I sat at Dads grave and made magic wands to ease my brain. He wasn’t scared that I talked about my love for herbs and the desire I had to run into the woods and be a witch making magic healing potions. I subconsciously tried to scare him off, but he truly valued me. He took interest in bees, because I loved bees. He didn’t sensor me. He actually loved me for me. He didn't get mad at me or yell at me or call me names. I was like a scared untrusting puppy with my tail between my legs and he was patient and kind. He didn't push me, he let me come to him. He understood that I was not trusting, and he let me be where I was at - he valued my rawness. And he was this interesting man – he was gypsy, he lived in the woods, he build things and fixed things. He loved falling in love, he shared his storied with me - his wild rebellious amazing stories. He trusted me. He told me we were “similar lovers” – he talked like me. He was weird, I love it. He was an old soul, I admired that. I felt seen for the 1st time ever. I loved him before I ever knew him, because he saw me and he made me feel worthy. He saw in me, what I see in me - and that was one of the most powerful things I had experienced. 

Because I loved me, because I showed up in life knowing that no one will save me, I met Shane. The irony is that he embodies so much of my father who passed it blows my mind.

Life is better with him, life is richer allowing my full heart to be loved. I have lerned even more about feminity knowing Shane. I have learned that nothing feels better than being seen. I have learned that my voice, my ideas, my power does not need to be turned down to make him comfortable – this wise man is the wind beneath my wings he supports my full capacity. He wants to see me succeed . I have learned that to be feminine is to deeply be able to receive – receive unconditional love, tight hugs, orgasms, and joy. Being an independed self-loving female does not mean I have to be tough and do it all on my own, its glorious to lean in and support and soar and mix energies and strengths and weakness. I have learned that I do not have to have it all together all the time, Shane is my backbone when I cant do it anymore, when I feel low and the full moon has caused my mind to spiral into darkness – he just listens without fixing, he lets my cry and get angry without judgement.

No one is coming to save me; one of the hardest truths I have had to come to terms with. I can say for certainty that it is one of the most powerful truths on the planet, more powerful than gravity. 

If there is one thing I can say to you who is reading this, it is this: what ever it takes, find the courage to give yourself the gift of self-care. No matter where you are in life, you have a divine right to feel safe, to feel loved, and to feel joy. That is your RIGHT. You are equipped with a strength in your soul, that so much more powerful than you can ever imagine. You are so worthy. You are so lovable. 

Selfishness is the 1st step in self love, the 1st step in stepping into your divine power.  YOU deserve that.