I had decided to leave my job at Saint Anne's and [Fall River] by the end of the year. I planned to stay with my family in Maine, and allow myself some time to think through the next move. I waited until December to tell the hospital staff and patients I was leaving, and I simply told them, I was moving back to Maine. Except for my co-workers and a few close friends, I was feeling too broken and vulnerable to tell people I was leaving my [religious] community. If people didn't understand, I wouldn't have been able to cope.

Had I to do it all over again, I don't know if I would have handled it differently. Right or wrong, I knew of no other way, given the limited stability I had. I did the best I could. I was so exposed, insecure and raw, I didn't think I could deal with the slightest insensitivity or misunderstanding. There was some unfortunate fallout, but ironically, not so much for leaving community. Some sisters, co-workers and others were convinced I left because I had fallen in love, a perception that really sharpened their tongues.