I’m one of the lucky ones: I’m married to my soul mate.
The first time I ever saw Nige, my heart caught in my throat and my stomach dropped faster than you can say “love at first sight.” I was captivated, awed and knocked sideways by the depth of my attraction to him.
We met during a life-changing workshop. He was an assistant, I was participating. Having clawed my way to life over the previous two year from an disorder that ravaged my soul and filled me with shame, I had learned to practice radical honesty — especially when I didn’t want to.
“Secrets keep you sick,” my mentors said. I didn’t want to be sick, so I went against all my instincts and told Nige and the group members in the therapeutic community he was co-leading of my attraction.