Love Should Never Cost You Your Life

Happy Resurrection Sunday, Friend.

I almost didn't write today.

Not because I didn't have words. But because some moments arrive so heavy that words feel insufficient. And yet… here I am. Because silence didn't feel right either.

This week I lost a friend.

Her name is Nancy Metayer. Vice Mayor of Coral Springs, Florida. Environmental scientist. Public servant. A woman with commitment to her community that was visible in everything she did. My moments with her were just right; virtual lunch check-ins talking about the loc'd girlie life and what resilience looks like for communities experiencing disasters. In my eyes she was whole. She was real. She was a force, but for me she is still a force in every way that matters

And she was murdered by her husband.

I've been sitting with that since the moment I found out on Wednesday, April 1, 2026. Not just the grief of losing Nancy… though that grief is real and it is mine, and to add the grief her family and extended family is carrying in a more profound way.. but the weight of what her death means. What it says about love. What it asks of all of us who are still here, still choosing, still hoping.

I'm not okay. And I don't think I'm supposed to be yet…. And I’m okay with that.

But I'm here. And on Resurrection Sunday, a day that is entirely about what rises after the unthinkable… I felt like this was exactly where I needed to be. With you..

Love Should Never Cost You Your Life

I need to say something clearly before anything else:

If you are in a relationship where you feel unsafe… where you have been threatened, harmed, controlled, or made to feel that leaving is more dangerous than staying, please leave. Please get help. Please tell someone. Your life is worth more than any relationship. There is no love that is worth your life.

And if you know… somewhere deep and honest in yourself that you are capable of harming someone you love, please leave too. Please get help. Please tell someone before it goes further.

Leave. Please. Just leave.

I have been watching love up close these past few weeks in ways that have shaken me.

A couple at the table beside me at a restaurant during girls' night. Something happening between them that shouldn't have been. On a neighborhood street. In a community. Remembering that this still does happen everyday… And now Nancy, but you think no way not anyone I know. Not anyone I have genuine love for… No!

I've witnessed domestic violence before in my own life, leaving me a scar on my face where I can never forget. I know what it is to be in those shoes, to love someone and to be in danger at the same time. And as a former City Councilwoman, I've seen it in the data. In the police reports. In the numbers that don't capture the full human cost of what those numbers represent.

But nothing.. Nothing…  prepares you for death.

For the reality that someone who promised love became the reason a beautiful, whole, brilliant woman is no longer here.

I've been asking myself hard questions this week. Questions I think a lot of us carry quietly. What if I don't choose right? What if I miss a sign? What if I love someone and it costs me everything?

Those questions are real. They deserve to be named. And I don't have clean answers for them, because love doesn't come with guarantees and people don't always show you who they are until they do.

But here's what I know.

Awareness is not the enemy of love. It is love's protector.

And I want to be careful here… because awareness does not guarantee safety. There are people who were paying attention. Who were wise. Who knew their person deeply. And it still happened. She was a woman who was betrayed by someone who should have protected her.

So this is not about vigilance as a shield. It's about what we owe ourselves and each other…  the honest conversations, the community that checks in, the courage to say something is wrong out loud before it becomes unspeakable. Awareness is not a guarantee. But silence makes it easier for danger to hide.

We can keep faith in love and remain clear-eyed about what love actually is. Love does not control. Love does not isolate. Love does not threaten. Love does not raise a hand. Love does not end a life.

What ends lives is not love. It is possession and jealousy dressed up as love. It is rage dressed up as love. It is ownership dressed up as love.

And we deserve to know the difference.

Nancy gave her life in service to her community. She spent her career fighting for people; for the environment, for resilience, for the dignity of communities rebuilding after disaster. She was the kind of woman who showed up. Who built relationships. Who made people feel seen.

Her legacy is not what happened to her. Her legacy is everything she built, everyone she loved, and the standard she set for what it means to show up fully in your life.

I am honoring her today by choosing to be awake. By refusing to let fear make me close off from love entirely. And by telling the truth about what love should and should not cost us.

MY INTERNAL AUDIT

Sit with these today… gently, not harshly:

1. Am I safe? Not just physically, but emotionally, and spiritually. Does the love in my life make me feel more whole or less?
   

2. What do I actually believe love is allowed to look like? Not what I've accepted. What I actually believe it should be.

3. Is there someone in my life right now who may need me to ask them if they're okay? Sometimes the most intentional thing we can do is simply ask.

   If you or someone you know needs help, please reach out:

   National Domestic Violence Hotline Available in English, Spanish, and 200+ languages 24 hours a day, 7 days a week

   Call: 1-800-799-7233 | Text: BEGIN to 88788

   If you are in Fayetteville/Cumberland County, NC:

   • Fayetteville Police Department Domestic Violence Resources

   • Cumberland County DSS Domestic Violence Services

   • NC Courts Domestic Violence Resources

MY INTENTIONAL PULSE

Love is still worth believing in.

And believing in love does not mean being blind to what threatens it… it means being wise enough to protect it, and brave enough to leave when it turns dangerous.

Nancy believed in people. In community. In showing up.

The most beautiful thing we can do to honor her is stay here, stay aware, and keep showing up, for ourselves, and for each other.

Rest well, Nancy. We've got it from here. 🧡

With love + intention,
Shakeyla M. Ingram

P.S. If this issue moved something in you… please share it. Someone in your circle may need these words and these resources today. You never know whose life a forward button can reach.