The Real Us

Court was over, justice had been served, and now, finally, I could really begin anew.  BUT, before I move forward in my story, I just want to take a pause from all the drama and give you a glimpse into the real us.  You've been hearing our story, but you'll end up missing a lot if I am not able to portray who we were. The 2 years following the court date was spent fully enjoying my little Alicia as she began to talk more and was becoming pretty active.  She proved to be the most amazing and the most adorable child ever.  Even back then she lit up any room she walked into.  Her personality was nothing like mine.  She was spunky, full of joy, bubbly, and a non stop chatter box who absolutely adored attention. I, on the other hand, was fairly quiet, sarcastically funny, and way too analytical and simply wanted to fade into the shadows. Alicia was definitely a mix-the-play-doh-colors kind of kid.  For me, just learning how to sit back and allow the blues and yellows to morph together proved to be quite the challenge.  To her they made green, to me, they made a mess! 



 That's me on the left not so thrilled with chocolate all over my face...and then's there's Alicia on the right embracing every moment of it!



And yet again, me on the left and Alicia on the right. Our dispositions are just a little bit different!

Even as a young toddler, there was so much I needed to learn from Alicia.  Every quality she possessed, I seemed to need.  Yes, many of those things drove me crazy, her desire to color outside of the lines, wear cowgirl boots with everything, not care about having spilled mustard all over her shirt, and even her need to talk to anyone she met as if they were her best friend ever. Her only response to the question we frequently asked, "Who loves Alicia?", was always a big cheesy "Everybody!" (otherwise heard as Evreee budddyyy) and boy was she was right.  Everybody did love Alicia. Truth be told, even back then I would have given anything to be like her.  In fact, if the same question had been posed to me about myself it would have been evident that her evreebuddyyy would have been a stark contrast to my nobody.

 For the record, she was never asked to wave. She was merely waving to her audience!

While Alicia continued to grow into her toddler and preschool years, I continued to stay safe and keep my crayons inside the lines.  While she joyfully scribbled all over and enjoyed what she saw as beauty, I spent my time ripping up what I saw as my ruined papers.  I so wish I could see the world and see people like Alicia did.  Her world was full of adventure, mine was full of risks that were likely to turn into worse case scenarios.  Everyone she knew was her BFF, everyone I knew was out to get me.  She had the ability to dance around the room singing as she pretended to be Anastasia, never thinking twice about who might be watching.  I would never dare to dream of being a princess, and it certainly would never come to my mind to dance so freely. 

Alicia had a joy and a freedom that I wanted. Each year as she grew, I knew I wanted it more and more.  I like to think I was always a good mom.  I loved her tremendously, I took good care of her, and I put her needs before my own.  I think I did all the things a mom should do. However, when it comes to teaching, I believe it was Alicia who was teaching me.  She was teaching me to lighten up, to enjoy life and to love people.  Her glass was always half full, if not filled to the brim and overflowing.  I needed that quality, I needed it badly, for my glass only contained a few drops.  To be honest, I'm still learning from her and I cherish every last one of the lessons she's taught me.  Are we still different?  Sure.  We always have been, but I think that is what has always made our relationship so beautiful. In fact, it still does.   

The Verdict

The ride home was a long one.  I knew I had started once again on my journey of defeat.  Every single detail of the court room, the faces and the testimonies, were all on a reel that just kept playing over and over in my head.  It was like a bad movie, a really bad movie, and I couldn't help but be filled with regret.  Regret of what I should have said, but didn't. Regret of what was said that shouldn't have been. Mainly, regret about showing up in general.  I was in the throws of another "I told you so" moment.  I knew that was going to happen.  It always did, no matter how hard I tried at anything, it never seemed to work out.  Fighting was pointless.  Running was better, and I knew at this momemt, I should have just ran.

We made it back to my apartment and I sat on my bed in tears.  Christopher's job was simply to listen.  He knew that anything positive he offered was going to be shot down before it ever fully left his mouth.  At that time in my life, and in fact, for many years later, I was an all or nothing kind of girl, mostly nothing.  I did not believe in the positive. My life just wouldn't allow me to trust in anything good.  That is why these moments of defeat were so hard.  It costs me a lot to fight and to go after something better. Then when I didn't receive it, it was a much harder fall.  My thinking was that if I didn't go after anything, then I could not be dissapointed  when I didn't receive it.  This was a much safer plan, and on that day, I knew I should have followed it.

There I sat, a balled up mess next to a man who was comforting me the best he could.  At the very least that day, I felt embarrassed, unworthy, and flat out stupid.  What were people going to think about me?  Were they going to believe my ex and think I was lying about all of those years?  I really felt like a fool.  On the same hand, I was fully aware I was sitting next to a man who was not leaving, a man who was loving me despite all of this.  Loving me, despite what I knew to be true about myself.  I wanted so badly to embrace that truth but I knew the risk was too high and the fall would be too hard.  Instead, I continued to ball up and cry....until the phone rang.

"Hello". 
"Hi Jamie?"   
"Yes"?
"This is "your lawyer", I wanted to tell you that shortly after you left the jury returned and they returned with a verdict of guilty. GUILTY!"
Blah blah blah...no idea how this conversation continued.

Are you kidding me??? They found him guilty?!  I could not believe it.  That balled up mess of a girl was now frantically running around the room, not having any idea how to react.  I wanted to scream, in fact, I think I did.  I was ecstatic!  The first thing I chose to do was completely out of character for me.  I picked up the phone and I called Christopher's mother.  I shared the news and then thanked her for raising such an amazing man.  I may have won my case, but deep down I knew he was the reason and I needed to thank somebody for that!

Turns out my day in court, my day of fighting, was worth it.  My ex was sentenced to several years in prison, effective immediately.  He was taken away that day. While the doors of his cell closed, I was hoping mine would now open. 

   

The Stand

This was it, by far one of the most intimidating moments of my life.  The scene is one I will always remember.  It was a room filled with a crowd of people, mostly strangers for whom this was just a day that got them out of work.  Another part of the room was all business.  Lawyers I knew, but not well enough to trust my future with, a fully wardrobed judge and an officer. For them, this was just another ordinary day. It was their job to be there. The part of the room that most gripped my heart was the one that was filled with faces I recognized, but also faces I did not want to see.  The face of my ex, the faces of his family, which by the way, all had eyes that could have burned holes right through my skin.  Along with them, there was also the face of his witness.  The very witness who should have stepped in that night, but didn't.  The witness who did not stand up for me then, and was about to stand against me now.  It was those faces that intimidated me the most.  

My mind was swirling with doubt and fear.  Was this my life?  Was this really happening?  Can't this all just go away?  Round and round these thoughts circled leaving me with the feeling of wanting to just get up and run away.  After all, running seemed to be a common desire of mine.  I guess it was the only familiar thing I had to stop any pain in my life.  I just wanted it to end.  I was beginning to doubt myself and it would be so much easier if I just gave up. However, my time was out. There would be no running, there would be no giving up. Court was now in session.

I took the stand first.  My knees were buckling, and I was sure I was visibly shaking.  I kept drinking my cup of water placed before me, not because I was thristy but because it gave me something to focus on.  My state prosecutor began his line of questioning, allowing me to share the events that took place.  I hated retelling the story.  I hated it for me and I hated it for my ex.  This should never have happened.  This was not what I planned for my life or for the life of my daughter.  My emotions were becoming overwhelming and I was beginning to unravel, until one specific moment.  A moment when I glanced out into the crowd and laid my eyes on Christopher.  He gave me a look that spoke life into me.  With his eyes alone, he told me that I was not alone, that he was there fighting for me, and regardless of how this all turned out everything was going to be okay.  His eyes went back and forth between mine and the man's I was fighting against.  His eyes showed zero fear, and that is exactly what I needed....fearlessness.  I was scared, overwhelmed, and emotionally bankrupt, but in those eyes I could press on.  So, that's exactly what I did. I told my story and recalled every detail of that night.  When the time came I managed to lift my shaky finger and point at the accused man that was my husband, and did so all the while looking him square in the eyes.  My finger may have shook but my eyes were strong.  When it came time for his attorney's questions, I felt confident.  His questions were almost silly.  I could tell he was grasping at straws, as there was no lying about the evidence and all of the reports.  He had nothing to work with. Christopher's eyes were right.

As surely as I gained my confidence, it dwindled away as soon as my ex took the stand.  My confidence turned into rage, then into sadness, and back into rage. There he sat, giving his side of the story, under oath, and it was filled with lies.  Not one part of it was familiar.  I was beside myself and wanting to stand up and scream.  He was lying about me, he was discrediting me, and he was devalueing me.  I felt like a victim all over again.  My lawyer's questioning was good, but it was not great.  I felt as if I could have done a better job myself, for I knew specific questions to which he could not answer.  It literally took everything in me not to stand up and say the things that needed to be said.

Next, his witness took the stand. As soon as the questioning began, it was obvious that it was going nowhere fast.  Between the night and day stories from him and I, the witness could not choose either side.  Several of their answers were coming out vague and confusing. They ended up stepping down, claiming that they really did not remember anything about that night. I was glad he lost his witness, but also so aggravated that he could basically un-do my testimony and lie before the court. At this point I was done.  I had said all I was allowed to say and so had he.

We stepped out of the court room and I knew court did not end well for me.  It ended on a lie, it ended with his side.  It ended with gloating from his family, as well as name calling and lots of yelling.  I was being accused of being a liar and I was devestated.  I wanted a chance to defend myself.  I knew there was no way I was going to win.  Truth was not going to prevail and there was nothing more I could do.  There was no need for me to stay around and wait for the verdict.  The last thing I wanted was to have people yelling at me and cheering as my life unraveled, and for that reason I simply went home....defeated.

The Briefcase

Papers, documents, bills and pictures.  This is what your life consists of when you are about to enter a trial.  Basically, along with all my other "baggage" I was carrying, I now was the new owner of an additional and quite massive briefcase! Papers with court dates, legal documents for signing, bills of property damage and physician visits and pictures of all the evidence.  The fight was on and this briefcase proved it.  The problem was, depsite what it appeared like, I was not a fighter.  I was only learning to become one and the reality of all of this was a lot for me. I was about to enter the court room where my trial for domestic violence was to take place and although my briefcase showed I was ready, in reality I wasn't even close.  

How does one prepare for a moment like this?  How do you look your spouse in the eye, the one who claimed to love you but yet never showed it, the one who gave you the most perfect gift in the world, a beautiful daughter, and then abandoned you both on several occasions?  How do you look at this man and be ready to point directly at him upon command to the question "Can you point out the man who struck you"?  It was overwhelming and is still somewhat surreal as I plunk out these words on the keyboard.  The man I loved at one time and the man I hated at others, all wrapped up into one.  This man's life was held in my hands, the point of my finger could literally change everything for him...and for me.  It was a huge responsibility and to be honest, one I was contemplating running from.

Days before the trial my emotions were all over the place.  I was strong and confident and determined to find justice for my child and myself. I was weak and defeated and knew for sure I was going to lose.  Then again, I was also terrified and wanted it all to just disappear.  I cannot even count the times I went back and forth between quitting and fighting.   Ultimately, my decision came from my Christopher, my current husband now. He was the rock, the one who lifted my head up and walked alongside me through the entire process.  He was the one to pick up my one foot and keep dropping it in front of the other.  To this day I believe if it wasn't for him by my side I would have ran. That was especially true on the day of court.  It was on that day that he used his own strength to carry all of my other "baggage" so I wouldn't have to.  It was only because of that lightened load that I could stand tall and walk in carrying that briefcase.  He gave me my strength, he gave me my determination and he gave me my fight.

Court was about to be in session and scared or not I was going in! So down the long hall way and through those heavy double wooden doors I walked.  I walked right into the silence, except for the sound of my beating heart, and into the mass of people and into the unknown. ( Insert the deepest breathe I've ever taken in my life here....)



     

Trashed, Torn & Crushed

Once again, I find myself somewhat at peace.  My ex has once again been arrested and at this point there is no doubt in my mind that we are completely over.  With him being in jail I now had complete access to my apartment and was finally going to be able to return and collect my and Alicia's belongings.  I drove to the apartment, put the key in the door and turned it open and then proceeded to emotionally fall apart.  The scene I entered into was complete devestation.  Everything I left behind was demolished, I mean deliberately destroyed.  Beyond that, everything that was Alicia's was ruined.  This in particular ripped my heart out.  As I have said from the beginning, "hurt me but don't you dare hurt my child" and that, in my mind, was exactly what he was doing, he was hurting my child.  As much as this moment tore me apart it also completely affirmed my decision to protect my daughter at all costs. 

I proceeded to go throughout the house only to find Alicia's crib outside of our third story apartment underneath a busted out window.  Next to it sat her dresser, broken and in pieces.  Some of her toys were broken and her clothes were missing, torn and ruined.  My sweet, big fat orange cat , Mork, that I had to leave behind was gone and never to be found.  There were holes in many walls and structural damage throughout.  Dishes were filthy and piled up and cat litter and garbage were strewn all across the living room and bedroom floors.  The hard part was that this disaster I was standing in was going to be MY responsibility.  This apartment was in my name and therefore I was going to be held responsible for the damage.  However, much worse than having to pay for that damage was the pain that was in my heart.  Yes, the place was a mess, but despite how hard I tried, so was my life.  I was literally standing in a room that matched how I felt on the inside, trashed, torn and crushed.  The hardest part of it all was the meanness and the intentionality that this room displayed.  It was done on purpose and it was evident.  I was not only not cared about but I was clearly despised.

But...despised or not, I had some cleaning to do.  Not only did I need to repair the damage, pick up the trash and clean my apartment.  I also needed to do the very same thing with my life...repair it, pick it up, throw out the trash and once and for all clean it up!

 

Crashing Down to Standing Up

At this point in my life I was finally beginning to see a glimpse of hope but as you continue to read my story you'll see that those glimpses of hope remained just that...glimpses.  I finally decided once and for all to leave the abuse of my marriage and was now entering into unknown territory, a healthy relationship.  Things were great and yet they were also hard.  It seems odd that one would actually have to learn how to accept being treated well, however this was the case for me.  Through the years I have found that it's difficult to leave even the worst of situations for something wonderful simply because the something wonderful is so foreign. The reality is, despite how great the new normal is, it is still new and therefore oddly difficult.  Little did I know I was soon to be thrown back in between the worst and the best and I was going to have either choose to run away or choose to dig in my heels.

The imprisonment of my soon to be ex didn't last long and he was released to await more court dates.  In the mean time he was living in an apartment under my name and still had many of Alicia's and my belongings which I needed to get back.  He lived there so therefore he was in charge, yes I know, crazy laws.  I contacted him to retrieve my things and set a time to come get them.  I called Christopher to tell him where I was going and was concerned enough to have him call the police if he did not hear from me shortly.  Upon entering the apartment it took all of 2 minutes for an arguement to break out and the next thing I knew as I was collecting some things I was hit from behind with a glass.  At this point a fight broke out, despite him having a friend there watching the whole thing take place. I somehow managed to get away and get out the door and flee.  I drove down the road and pulled over to call Christopher from a pay phone and he instructed me to come to his friends house where he was at.  He took one look at me with a swollen eye and fat lip and called the police.  I will always remember this moment..everything was crashing down.  He was seeing the truth of my life, I was ashamed and embarrassed, thoughts of why I was even bothering trying to change were flooding my mind.  To me, it was proof yet again, I didn't deserve more.  I wanted desperately to just run away screaming and crying a sad "I told you so".

However, what happened next sent me into a state of shock.

The police showed up, took pictures, filed a report and I agreed to press charges.  After the officer left, Christopher and his friend, in my mind, did the unimaginable.  They picked up the phone, called my ex without him having any knowledge of who they were, and began to threaten him and call him out for the evil things he was doing.  They passionately put a healthy fear into him and the moment they did that I could literally feel my power returning and my shoulders relaxing.  For once in my life, someone had my back and I couldn't believe it!  Just moments before, someone stood on the sidelines watching me being beaten and now Christopher and this new friend I had just met were defending me.  I cannot put into words the emotions I had in this moment.  I just knew for the first time that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be ok.  I was no longer alone, someone was finally standing up for me.  And boy, was I going to need it!   
     

Those Eyes

So, where was I? Rewind... I had just met this adorable guy and completely blew it by telling him my life story.  Honestly, I wasn't even sure what I wanted more,for it to work out or for it to end.  I was caught in a battle between what I longed for and what I felt I deserved.  I guess it didn't really matter anyway because I knew the damage had already been done.  That man with the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen went home and I wasn't sure if I would ever see him again.

Fast forward...20 years later I was sitting on the edge of my bed and when I looked up I was looking into those same beautiful eyes.  They still drew me in.  In fact they draw me in today as much as they ever did, if not more.  My dear friends, he stayed!  He actually stayed! I realize there's obviously a BIG gap in between, which I will indeed fill in, but from now on the man I speak of you will all know as my husband Chris (Christopher to me) and you will soon learn why I am always posting on FB about his amazingness and how grateful I am for him and who he is.  Alicia was my reason and he was soon to become my hope. 



Going back those 20 years I could not have been more excited when my phone rang the next morning and I was being asked to go out for lunch.  I will never forget our date over Chinese food, which I had never even had. I also won't forget ordering something that I had no idea what it even was and then proceeding to act like I liked it as I ate.  Despite the food, we laughed, we talked, we laughed some more and another date was already set.  I could not believe I was starting to date so soon and certainly was planning on anything but that.  

One date after another we finally went on the most fabulous date of them all.  He asked if he could take Alicia and I to see Beauty and the Beast.  Let me remind you, this is a 22 year old guy asking a soon to be divorcee on a date with her daughter (Cue Chris is amazing comments again).  When he showed up to pick us up he brought Alicia a gift and she instantly took a liking to him.  In fact, we could barely even watch the movie because of Alicia's talking (If you know Alicia, at least just act surprised). All the way through the movie she kept handing him her book asking him to read it to her.  She was smitten, I was smitten and I could tell he was too. 

So, there you have it, he didn't run away afterall, even when I tried to chase him away.  For the first time ever, someone seemed to value me.  And what I would soon learn was that it was going to be those beautiful eyes of his that I, for the first time ever, would begin to see myself.