My story is best if told in retrospect. In one scoop, I landed my dream job and met the right man, all within the time I worked with Mel. In that short three months, she wiped my past clean, and together we re-wrote my new life. I am still in disbelief and at times I have to pinch myself to believe my fortune.
A couple of years ago I was a different person, smacked right in the middle of a personal crisis. My partner of eight years and I were planning to buy a house together. In the process of loan approval, I found out that my identity was stolen and my credit ruined. Instead of being understanding and supportive, my partner became distant, obviously upset with the predicament, blaming me for being immature, as if I somehow enabled the thief, by being irresponsible with my information.
Vanessa is now a CEO of a large Tech Company, married, and lives happily ever after in San Francisco.
Jill, a friend of mine who had recently divorced, suggested that we contact the Fixer. Jill suspected that the exasperated reaction of my ex-partner was disproportionate for a reason and suggested that I work with Mel to gain some clarity and perspective on what was going on.
When I met Mel, she asked me if I could show her my ex's picture. She looked at the image and then asked me how well do I know about him. I was flummoxed. Was she suggesting that I don't know him well enough? I was about to marry him! She then described an entirely different person from the one I thought I was dating. My intentions, exactly. Seeing that I didn't believe her, Mel recommended that I do my research and make up my mind, and contact her after that, if I was still interested.
In short, I found out that this person was dating another woman, and it was she who stole my identity with his help. This is the man I dated for eight years!
I know that it was mawkish of me, but I didn't accumulate enough rage not to miss him even after that. A big part of my life turned out to be fraud, and I had a problem sorting through my memories, trying to figure out how much of it was true and how much of it was a lie. I didn't want to accept that I had wasted years loving this man. I sank into depression, isolated myself, was unable to trust anyone and was unwilling to see my friends because they were all part of the memories I had with him and were a constant reminder of our time together. I resigned from my job and just gave up.
One Saturday morning, someone rang my doorbell. I wasn't expecting anyone, so I didn't bother to get up. Then the ringing turned into banging on the door, which got so loud, I thought whoever they were, they would break the door. But friends, being pesky, at least the true friends, decided to intervene.
It was Jill with Mel by her side. They marched into my apartment as if they owned the place, Jill screaming at me, Mel just looking at me strangely. I was so numb,l I didn't have the strength to argue with Jill. So Jill has decided that I am working with Mel or else and has flown her from Phoenix to intervene. If you work with her, you will learn to recognize that "look" she does when she is reading somebody inside and out.
Mel pulled me apart and then put me together, but this time, right side up and the very sunny side on top. Yes, I cried, I laughed, I reflected. She changed how I looked, felt, ate, talked, and thought. We started looking for a job as my savings had almost melted. She would look at the pictures of potential employers and tell me if there would be an easy rapport between us and whether they would hire me or not. On day forty-seven since we began working together, I got employed. My boss and colleagues were great, and I felt motivated to work.
A couple of months later, I went to a company training in Houston, Texas, for a week. There I met Donovan. Something about him, right? We took company pictures with the group, and I immediately sent them to Mel. Mel sent a thumbs up, and the rest is history :-) (he is reading over my shoulder as I am typing this, being my lovely husband, we have no secrets.)
I owe so much to Mel; we owe so much to her. And to my best friend ever,
Jill, are you reading this?
Thank you for breaking doors down; I love you, girl!