M.L. Gallagher

EMBRACE yourself. You are all you need to hold onto.

Seven steps to healing the lovesick heart.

We’ve all had them. Those icky, sticky, yucky feelings of love gone wrong. The sense of loss. Of abandonment. Of feeling devalued and discarded. Of being ‘less than’ the light of love in our lover’s eyes. We’ve all had them and sometimes, those feelings linger for longer than is healthy for us to reclaim our sense of self-worth, of beauty, of joy in our essence of being alive.

EMBRACE yourself. You’ve got all you need to hold onto

is a seven step process that guides you through letting go of the love that was (and will never be again) into loving what is and will always be within you. You. Whole and complete. Living the 3Ms of self-eMPOWERED YOU! Magnificent! Miraculous! Marvelous!  


Engage your heart. Still your mind.

 Mindfully watch your words and actions.

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A story. My story. Dancing in the arms of love.

She waited. Patient. Patiently. I’ll wait for you forever, she told him. And so she waited. She waited and waited but still he never came.

She called. Impatient. Impatiently. She called and she called and still he never answered.

She searched. For him. For answers. For hope. And still her hands came up empty.

I am your only hope, he’d told her. I am the one you’ve been waiting for.

And so, she waited. In the dark. Through the dawn. Throughout the day. And still, he never came.

He’d promised to come. Promised to bring her the keys to their new home. The money he owed. He promised to give back the dreams he’d killed. The trust he’d broken. The hopes he’d dashed. Today, he’d promised. Today.

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Claiming Peace: After the sociopath is gone

At 9:12 am on May 21, 2003, the only peace I knew was the unsettling desire to die, the constant throbbing of the voice screaming at me to let go, give in, give up, give over my life to the darkness that consumed me. I wanted to end it all. To have the turmoil and pain and fear of living with an abuser die with me.

At 9:13 am on May 21, 2003, everything changed. Everything shifted and my world as I knew it ended. A police car drove up and I stood watching as two officers stepped from the car.

At 9:14 am I followed the officers into the room where my abuser lay sleeping and watched them arrest him.

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Thank you Donna!

Thank you Donna for your support of The Dandelion Spirit — and of me and my journey and everyone else here who comes to find hope and encouragement and ends up finding themselves free of an abuser because of the light you cast upon the path leading them away from abuse.

I am often surprised when memories of ‘he who shall not be named’ percolate to the top and provide me insight and understanding of where I am today. For me today, ‘those times’ are just a reminder of a time when I was very very sick. Very very overwhelmed by fear and self-loathing. They remind me to love myself, as I was then, and as I am now. To love myself for all I’m worth — as a woman who was abused. As a woman who is free to choose to live her life with peace, hope and joy in her heart today.

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After the sociopath is gone: From grief to falling in love.

Every other week I participate in a ‘one word’ blog carnival. This week’s word was ‘grief’.

Grief. A tiny word. Five letters. ‘i’ before ‘e’. A story of precedence. What comes before grief? Love. Friendship. Familiarity. Hope. A belief in tomorrow. A belief in another day. A better day. A different time. A time for endless hello’s to fill our day with promise. A time to love.

And then death sweeps in and robs us of that time. That moment. Those endless hellos punctuated by good-byes that do not mean, never more, but rather, until later, until we meet again, until the next time.

In death’s embrace we fall and grieve for the one who was lost, for what was lost, for time lost and never to be recaptured.

In grief there is no next time. No better time. No later. Grief consumes all time and steals all hope of a better tomorrow.

After the sociopath is gone: Your best life yet!

There was a time when all I felt grateful for was the absence of his voice, for just an hour or two from the phone.

There was a time when what I was most grateful for was knowing he was somewhere else, somewhere where I wasn’t.

There was a time when I was grateful not to think of him, for just a moment, or an hour, maybe even, if I was really strong, for half a day.

There was a time.

And now, the times have changed. The times have shifted, the sands have fallen differently, ever changing, in the hour glass of the passing of the time when he was all I thought of, all I saw, all I believed I would ever live with in my life.

The times they have changed.

Your voice. It counts.

When I was with the man whose lies no longer hurt me, I believed he held my freedom in his hands. I believed I could only be free with his love. With his words. His voice feeding me the lies I called the truth. The lies I believed were truth and was too afraid to uncover with my questions, with my doubt, with my fear he was telling lies.

Freed of him, I know the truth. I am free when I watch my words. When I listen to my voice. When I hear my thoughts and acknowledge my presence in my life – without measuring my journey against someone else’s belief they hold my freedom in their hands.

It took me awhile to get here. Here to this place where I know my value is found in everything I do and say. In every step I take to claim my birthright to be my most incredible self.

He Will Call It Love. (May contain triggers.)

I am often asked how I managed to get out of that place of darkness to live with such light and joy in my heart today. The answer is fairly simple — I chose to. The reality is much more complex. The following piece describes where I got to in that journey. It is an excerpt from my book, The Dandelion Spirit. I originally wrote it on a forum I belonged to about a year after he was arrested. It was my ‘explanation’ of what happened to me in that relationship.

There is a warning with this post — it may trigger you. If it does, breathe — and know, when a trigger explodes in your mind, it is your opportunity to embrace it, walk into it, accept it and heal it. Only you can make that choice. Triggers exist in our mind. The past is no longer. It is gone. The memories are what are hurting us. And when we pull the trigger and let the bullet of memory pierce us, we give ourselves the grace of being free. Nameste

After the sociopath is gone: Good-bye lie. Welcome truth.

I wrote the following nine months after the p formerly in my life was arrested. I was asked on another thread, was there a moment you ‘knew’? Knew that you would be okay. Knew it was okay to let him go.

Yes and no. In those first heady days of freedom, every moment was filled with knowing I was okay. And every moment was filled with the fear I would never get through the pain to find the light of love within me. I had to make a choice. Had to decide — what do I want more of. Lies and deciet. Truth and harmony.

I wanted to share this piece with you because it speaks to the power of one word to release us from fearing life without them so that we can surrender and fall in love with life within us.

After the sociopath is gone: Leap before you look.

I work in a homeless shelter. It is a place where people are worn down by their stories, day in, day out. They carry the load like a weight upon their shoulders, sitting at tables with hunched shoulders, rounded backs. They walk with shuffling footsteps, backs curled into their chests, their hopes gripped in hands buried deep down into their pockets, forever fearful of coming up empty handed. And every day they wait. And wait. For someone to rescue them. For someone to deliver an answer. An escape. A way out. Another direction.

When you’re down and out, living below poverty, on the wrong side of easy street, sometimes all you’ve got to make yourself visible is the story you carry to mark your passing. It is all you’ve got to tell. The only thing that’s yours and yours alone. It’s all you’ve created in a life of despair. It is all you fear losing. You don’t fear death — this is a living death. You don’t fear rock bottom. You’ve already hit it. You fear, losing your story. Without your story, where would you be?