These are my reasons for leaving a (bad) relationship:

1. Laughing.
I am not LAUGHING anymore, and I begin to notice that I'm more serious, definitely a bad sign.


2. I feel worse about myself when I'm with this person.
If this continued, I realized I had to leave. Emotional support is essential. There have been men who thought what I did was ridiculous. No support for being me or following my heart.

3. Control.
People control out of fear. It manifests in anger - passive or active, it's still there. My freedom is important to me. Of course control results in tenseness. and again, having to live up to the expectations other people had for me led me to break free. Sometimes it was simple to see, their mothers were different than I was, cooking, talking, interests etc. I wasn't even the same as my mother. Despite growing up in the sixties and seventies, some of my men were definitely "Mad Men" with expectations.

4. Jealousy.
I decided a long time ago that if I had a reason to be jealous, it was time to go. If I did not have a reason to be jealous, then it was time to go. Once, I had a boyfriend who did his best to make me jealous. When I realized that, it was only a matter of time before I realized he was fooling around. Don't be jealous and do not stick around with a jealous mate, your life will be miserable. Who wants that?

5. Sex.
If a relationship has other problems, such as anger or other forms of control, sex can become a duty and something to avoid. This was easy to notice. If the interest in sex really waned, I could feel myself emotionally detach. A strong sexual attraction with a negative, depressed or angry partner makes it harder to go. When the sex is not that great and the rest of relationship was a mess, it was easier to go.

Feel free to add your own, those are my reasons.

    Astrological charts have been able to indicate past lives for me. I can see them. Years ago, I began to meet people and see a past life immediately. Since then it has become an almost daily occurrence as I go shopping, get gas and work. As a school bus driver, it happened so frequently that some teachers began to ask me out of curiosity, if I saw anything.
 
    Children born to parents whose marriage was arranged without love were often difficult. Love is the key ingredient. Love attracts less difficult souls. As a social worker, one of the first questions I would ask a parent with a troubled child was, "Were you in the love with the Dad when you became pregnant?" I never received a yes. It was always a shake of the head and a thoughtful “no”. Getting “no” all the time has convinced me how very important love is when conceiving. Many of these children have come from lives as hoodlums, gangsters, thugs etc. Now their parents have a few years to help steer these souls away from violence. I have also seen autistic children come from past lives of abusing power. Now those same souls are being controlled. I have seen this over and over again.
 
Examples:
    A young twenty something, non-verbal woman, lived in a group home. Her left forearm bore constant teeth marks, a semi-circle of red. When she became angry with anyone or anything, she would bite her own arm. I saw a past life where she had servants and power. She would beat and hit anyone around who did not jump quickly enough to do her bidding. Her own mother stopped visiting her and left the province. Her mother, in this life, was a personal servant.

    I once saw rows of bullets criss-crossed on the chest of a ten year old boy. He had been a muscular “G.I. Joe” mercenary in a past life. Life meant nothing to him. He had been paid to kill. Now he was autistic, verbal and his every reaction was controlled and stopped.

    I met a young man of twenty-two living in a group home whose past life was spent being a gunslinger. His parents in this life were not thrilled with him. His father had physically abused him. This young man had gunned him down for no reason in his past violent life. His present mother had been the wife of the gunned down man. His father left Alberta and his mother saw him infrequently.

    Then there was this four year old bully. The first day on the bus, I sat him with another four year old. Within minutes, I could hear arguing. He had hit his seat mate. I moved him to another seat. Within minutes, again, I heard more arguing. I moved him to a seat with a girl, right at the front. I could hear how aggressive he was. When I questioned him, “Why are you angry?” He smiled and answered, “I didn't like his face” or “I didn't like what he said,” smiling all the while. When his parents went to take him off the bus, he blamed the little girl, “She made me mad.” I told his parents that he had hit the other children. His mother said, “It's the children at the day care.”
 
    “But you work at the day care,” I responded. Then I saw a past life in Egypt where the boy had worked as an enforcer in a club. He learned to fashion his face into a pleasant smile, so as to look non-threatening. Then he could strike quickly and surprisingly. He rose through the ranks as a thug. When he died, he had been a club owner, oily with no respect for women or men. In this life, I eventually had to stop him from coming on the bus, something I never had to do. Even sitting alone, he would find ways to torture other children. He threw things or whipped an unused seat beat at other children, laughing as he did it. He always seemed to laugh when he hurt someone.
 
    Then there was another angry four year old. He had been a small, thick set gangster. He disliked the other children, so I had to seat him alone. One day he was getting off the bus, looked at me and said, “I want to be a bad guy now”.

    “Why? You will never have any friends. Bad guys die alone. A good guy is way more fun.” He began to warm up but I heard from the other parents that they did not let their children out of sight when he was around.

    Then there was the very polite four year old who screamed his first week on the bus, all the way to school and home. I told him I would always take him home. Then I saw a past life in which he was a statesman, dressed in tails and attending a political function. Somewhere in the Middle East he was kidnapped and killed. He felt the bus was kidnapping him. Once I saw that, I would tell him over and over that he was safe. By the second week and the rest of the year, he was terrific, so polite, and very smart.

    Every time my family got together with cousins, grandparents etc., I would ask whomever "When is your birthday?" I did that all the time. When I married my first husband, Bruce, we lived with his parents in their house from December to April. Audrey Keay, my mother-in-law, loved to read and together we became fascinated with anything psychic. The day she bought a book on Edgar Cayce, changed me. It was 1968, I was 21 and married. When she lent it to me I discovered that astrology was like a blueprint of what each soul brings into this life. By the time my first son, Lance, was born in 1969, I was intrigued with past lives, astrology, ghosts - I was intrigued with anything and everything. This pursuit really caused me to lose total interest in the Catholic church. The church had no answers and just wanted me to have faith and not ask questions.

    When I was still married to Bruce in 1971, I began reading a book by Jess Stearn called "Yoga, Youth and Reincarnation". The day I finished reading it, I signed up for the only yoga class in town. It was held at Centennial College, my alma mater where I obtained my diploma in social services in 1968. From day one I loved the exercises, and saw my body return to a great shape at the end of my 6 week course. By that time, Lance was almost 2 years old.

    The whole time, I could not get enough astrology. I bought a lot of books from mail order companies, books I never saw in bookstores. I would saturate myself with astrology in three month blocks, and then switch to reading about past lives, auras, psychics, hauntings, numerology, palmistry, biorythym etc. Then I would go back to Astrology and saturate myself again. Meanwhile, at bus stops and work, parties, and actually anywhere, I was asking people their birth dates and giving them readings.

    I attended Humber College at night to learn how to draw up charts. Although I had a lot of books, the math involved eluded me. Geometry was one of my worst subjects in high school. About 20 or so of us began, but by the time I finished this eight week course, 6 of us were left. I used to call the teacher all the time to ask for help. His name was Gerald. He looked like a hippie and used binder twine to hold up his pants,. He always wore sandals, had a beard, longish hair and glasses. He was a friendly Cancer and helped me a lot.

    When I went to the University of Guelph in 1976, I was charging people for casting them. I used to write them out by hand. For first year Psychology class, I wrote on Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud from an astrological viewpoint: why they got together and why they could not possibly stay that way. The teacher was surprised and commented, "No one ever did that before". He stared at me for a while after my presentation.

    I asked all my teachers for their birthdays to see how tough they were and whether I had to study more than they said, and of course, curiosity. No one turned me down. They all told me. I used astrology with exam dates to help me decide how much studying I needed to do. As an assignment in a third year Philosophy course, "Science of the Occult", I did the teacher's chart. He was a Scorpio and very shocked with what I had written. I ended up getting an "A"!

    For a presentation in another class, I brought in a friend of mine whom I had met at Humber College, and we discussed astrology in front of a packed class. There were quite a few pontificating guys asking questions and making statements. My girlfriend would tell them they wouldn't have to accept anything if they disagreed, but not me. I would get their birthdays and go after them in front of everyone. They had to tell me their birthdays after telling me astrology is a crock. I also brought a psychic in to do readings. Bernice was a Libra and did well in front of a packed class.

    Before I went to U of G, I attended The Britton Memorial Spiritualist Church Sunday evenings where psychics would do readings with the congregation. it was so much fun. Every Wednesday I took the bus to the church to develop my psychic abilities. Most of the psychics took turns teaching us and getting us to practice through meditation. The nightly psychic would go into a meditative state in order to keep an eye on the participants.
Then when I was in third year sociology, we had to do a paper on a religion. Of course, I picked the Spiritualist Church. I interviewed the psychics and wrote a paper on the church. It sure beat the boring antics of all the other churches.

    By the time I had my second child, Sloane, I was able to draw charts and learn about the treasure I had given birth to. It was always fun going back to my room after each child was born to see what I had. I looked for talents, I checked my children's palms to read life lines - long, phew! Good. I had a very good friend who was an M.A. in counseling, but she could read palms well, really well.

    Angel readings, well it was my Dad who came to see me in a dream. That's what convinced me. I had already studied with psychics. I had been seeing spirits at their own funerals. When I was pregnant with my first girl, I practiced meditation with a fellow who studied under Tibetan monks.  I was ready, willing and able.