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HARD TRUTHS BEAUTIFUL LIES

P aulo’s message hits me like a freight train. I finally texted him to let him know what happened. I needed to tell someone—someone who I know cares about me, and who wouldn’t reply in a flippant way. I know Paulo is analytical, and he’ll think this through logically. But even then, I’m not expecting the reply that I receive:

Paulo:

When people show you who they are, believe them.

I don’t think this guy’s behavior will be an isolated incident.

You guys moved very fast… and it’s understandable for you to fall for someone who is offering you something you haven’t gotten for 6 years… excitement, adventure, someone who is expanding your world.

And part of this new adventure in self discovery is Sunset Cay… plus some good D.

But for you to call him your fiancée after less than a few weeks seems unhealthy, even desperate.

And giving someone a second chance who put your physical safety at risk is not a good move.

Ensuring your physical wellbeing and safety is at the base of our human existence, and if he can’t help you achieve that you won’t climb higher. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, baby.

You know your worth and I don’t want to see you diminish it with dickheads that put you in danger.

Sorry if this comes across as judgmental or harsh, but I say it because I care for you.

He’s right. Every word he says is fucking right. And he’s so kind. Some of it’s not nice to read, and I have a particular reaction to his use of the word ‘desperate’. It makes me feel sick inside, but he’s coming from a good place. Sometimes, it’s easier to see signs from outside than when you’re right in the middle of it. And clearly he does.

I read it once, then again, slowly, word by word, letting each sentence sink in. With every line, my stomach tightens, and I feel the familiar ache of shame rise up in my chest.

When people show you who they are, believe them.

I stare at those words for a long time. They rattle me. They gnaw at the part of me that still wants to believe in the Timmy I fell for—the one who held me under the stars and whispered promises into the night. But Paulo’s right. Timmy’s rage, his violence, the way he flipped like a switch—it wasn’t a momentary lapse. It was who he is. And no matter how much I want to rewrite the story, to find an explanation that makes everything okay, the truth is staring me right in the face.

Believe them .

A lump forms in my throat, and I fight the urge to cry. Paulo’s words aren’t cruel, but they feel sharp, like a scalpel cutting through the fantasy I’ve been clinging to.

You guys moved very fast…

He’s right. I can see that now. Moving so quickly with Timmy—it felt thrilling in the moment, like jumping off a cliff into unknown waters, trusting that I’d land safely. But the fall was reckless. And I knew it. Somewhere deep down, I knew it, even as I ignored the nagging voice in the back of my mind that told me to slow down, to tread carefully.

Excitement, adventure, someone expanding your world…

I let out a shaky breath. That’s exactly what Timmy was to me—a wild ride that pulled me out of the monotony of the life I left behind. I wasn’t just looking for love. I was looking for escape. A new beginning. And Timmy made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

But Paulo’s words linger, making me realize that maybe what I mistook for love was something else entirely. A distraction. A high. A need to fill a void that’s been gnawing at me for longer than I care to admit.

But calling him your fiancé after a few weeks… that’s not healthy, even desperate.

That word—desperate—cuts deep. It lands heavily, making my stomach churn. I don’t want to think of myself as desperate. I don’t want to believe that’s what this was. But the truth clings to me, undeniable. I let myself get swept up in the whirlwind of Timmy because I wanted to be swept up. I wanted the adventure, the fantasy, the dopamine hit. And now here I am, in the wreckage, sifting through the debris, wondering how I let it get this far.

Ensuring your physical well-being and safety is at the base of our human existence…

I can feel the tears welling up now. Paulo’s right—without safety, everything else crumbles. And Timmy has proven, time and time again, that he can’t offer that to me. Especially more recently, instead of building me up, he’s been breaking me down with increasing frequency. And if I don’t put my safety first, how will I ever climb higher? How will I ever get back to myself?

I clutch my phone to my chest, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me for Paulo, for his blunt honesty, even though it stings. He’s saying what I need to hear, not what I want to hear. And deep down, I know that every word is true.

The weight on my chest lightens ever so slightly. I wipe the tears from my eyes, take a deep breath, and open my laptop. I type a few lines. Then a few more. The words come easier now, like a dam breaking open.

This—this writing, this space—this is what I imagined my time here would be like. Not the chaos, not the endless drama. Just me. The peaceful mornings, the sound of the ocean, the satisfaction of creating something real, something meaningful. I type until the sun rises, my thoughts spilling out onto the screen, clearing the clutter from my mind.

Later, I take myself for a long walk along the boardwalk, the warm breeze brushing against my skin. I get my steps in, savoring the simplicity of the moment. No arguments, no anxiety. Just the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement and the sun warming my face. I stop for brunch at a little café, order a mimosa, and breathe in the joy of being alone.

For the first time since getting to Sunset Cay, I feel light. Unburdened. Free. This—this is what I came here for. To reconnect with myself, to breathe, to explore without fear. I sip my mimosa slowly, savoring every bit of it.

Later, at the gym, I move my body just for me. No pressure, no expectations. I lift heavy weights, feel my muscles burn, and let the music in my headphones drown out the lingering thoughts of Timmy. It’s not a perfect workout, but it’s mine. And that’s enough.

When I get home, I pull out my oracle deck. I shuffle the cards, letting the tension flow out of my body, and draw one. LISTEN.

I stare at the card for a long time, the word sinking deep into my bones. It truly feels like a message from the universe. A reminder to trust myself, to hear what my intuition has been trying to tell me all along. I’ve been listening to everyone else—Timmy, his ex, the detective. But it’s time to listen to the one person I’ve been neglecting: me.

Listen to the part of me that knows the truth, the part that’s been whispering in the background this whole time.

It’s time to stop ignoring the voice inside me. Time to stop waiting for someone else to save me.

It’s time to trust myself again.