I originally wrote this explanation of my username in my journal. I'm posting it here now in case other people find it inspiring or... whatever. 
---------
I was a professional dancer and dance instructor for a number of years. During that time, my trade name was a reference to the Hindu goddess Kali and I used live flames as a dance prop.
One of the proudest moments in my life was when I opened my own dance studio. Make no mistake, people, my dance studio is gorgeous: There's a huge ballroom dancefloor, vaulted ceiling, wall of mirrors, multicolored lights, 12-foot-high windows. The place is dazzling.
Fast forward to a few years after the studio opened... My dance business has gone bankrupt, but I've sunk all my assets into it and I'm the sole breadwinner in my marriage. So I say to my husband: "Let's go live in the dance studio, okay?" He agrees. Why not? The studio is the only thing either of us owns, and it's a beautiful place.
Things get steadily worse between husband and me after we move into the studio, and I can't understand why. I'm driving myself nuts trying to make him happy. He's unemployed, while I'm holding down 2 shitty jobs, desperately trying to make ends meet for the both of us. And he's pissed at me all the of time, screamin' mad because I loaded the dishwasher wrong or some shit. This goes on for a long time.
Fast forward a few more years... I've landed a good day-job. Our financial situation has improved. And even though my husband is still unemployed, we're getting along a little better now.
That's when Dday#1 hits and I discover that my beloved husband has been cheating on me the whole damn time.
Shortly after Dday#1, WH's AP informs me that WH took her to my dance studio and fucked her on my beautiful dancefloor before the studio even opened for business. Someday, I will poke them both in the eye for doing that. But right now, I'm doing this instead: I'm telling the story and they can't stop me.
It's been said that she who laughs lasts, and I'm laughing as I type this. As of today, I have a high-paying job doing something I love and I still live in the dance studio. I like to get my cats high on catnip and chase them around the dancefloor. It's a hoot.
My WH has a crap job and lives alone in a tiny town where he doesn't know anyone. His AP lives several states away in a truly ugly city. I don't think they're in contact with each other, but if they are, so be it. They're two screwy people who deserve each other. They can go down in flames together.
It's my decision to rise from the fucking ashes.
The way I understand it, Kali is the goddess of death and birth – in that order. Something dies, and then something new gets born. That's how it works with her. Kali is a mean one. She won't just give you birth followed by death – oh no, with that bitch, it has to be death followed by birth.
Well. Okay then. My husband's betrayal incinerated my heart. That shit burned my whole life to the ground. But I'm still here. I lived to tell the story, and you have to admit it's a good one. This is my rebirth. This is my new life starting to happen. I'm hitting the reset button. RIGHT. THE. FUCK. NOW.
------------
Thank you all for reading. Peace and love. Good night.
