Don’t Undersell Your Value During a Virginia Divorce

Don’t Undersell Your Value During a Virginia Divorce

Life After Divorce

In the months following my divorce, I began to feel a sense of awkwardness. It was unreal to me that I was now a divorced woman. I faced the next phase and entered into life after divorce. I remember thinking back and wondering where it all went wrong. I asked myself if there was something that I could have done differently to save the marriage and prevent the divorce from ever occurring. That question took me back even further. It took me back to the months that he and I were just dating. That brought on more questions that I never really got the answers to.

I did take time to focus on myself. I wanted to be able to resolve any interior insecurity that I had before re-entering the dating world. I wanted to make sure that my head was on straight and that my life was headed down a more direct route. That’s just what I did too. I dealt with my issues and gave myself a good path to follow.

I attempted to date someone after I believed I was ready to date again. I was wrong. I constantly analyzed every situation that occurred and constantly compared it with a situation that I had with my ex-husband. I even spit out that the guy was acting just like my ex-husband. No sooner than the words came out of my mouth, I wanted to hit the rewind button. Why did I say that? What was the purpose of directly comparing him to my ex-husband, and verbally at that? Of course I apologized for it, but the damage was already done.

I quickly realized that I needed to step away from the dating world again and work on getting myself out of that horrible loop. I sat and pondered what it was that I needed to do to stop thinking about my ex and look forward to a brighter future. At first, I couldn’t think of anything. But I quickly realized that I needed to do two things.

I needed to continue to reinstate the relationship I had with myself. In doing so, I began to do activities that I enjoyed doing solo. I rode my bike more, took walks around the neighborhood and took random drives around town with no particular destination. This allowed me to wrap myself up in internal thought and gave me the opportunity to relearn myself as an individual.

The other thing I decided I needed to do was to reinstate my relationships with my friends. Granted, the relationships were never lost, but being divorced, they were slightly different. I needed to relearn how to spend time with them as a soloist and they needed to readjust to me as being a single lady. This helped me make the transition from being married to divorced and single because I was able to throw my thoughts off of them and receive any support that was necessary. I trusted them to give me adequate advice and to tell me the honest truth, no matter how painful.

This took time, and I am happy that I went ahead and faced my fears early on. It set me up for a better future and allowed me to see that I was my first priority. Divorce in Virginia changed me, and it made me a stronger person.

Officially Divorced!

One of the key things that everyone should remember about going through a divorce is that the plaintiff needs a witness present with them in court, whether or not they have an attorney present. My husband was made aware of this by the clerk of courts. I knew he knew, but something told me he would show up without one. I asked my mom if she would come with me to court to be my witness and explained to her what my instinct was telling me. She agreed.

We go to court and walk into the room and take a seat towards the back. I look around for him and notice him sitting, alone I might add, a few rows up. I knew it! I knew he would show up alone. I had a private panic attack and hoped that the judge would show mercy on at least me.

We are called and walk up to where we are directed. The judge notices that Danny is alone and the conversation goes something like this:

Judge: looking slightly annoyed, “Where is your witness?”

Him: “Your honor, um, he wasn’t able to make it because he had an accident with his thumb. Um, he had to go to…”

Judge: “You need a witness in order to file this petition.”

Me: chirping in “Your honor, I have a witness.”

Judge: directing his glance at me. “You do? Why?”

Me: “Honestly, because I knew that he would not bring one and I wanted to make sure it was covered.”

Judge: “Ok, is your witness in the courtroom?”

Me: “Yes” I signal for my mom to come up to the stand.

Judge: “Ok, this is what I’m going to do. I will make some edits to the decree and award you with the divorce.”

Me: “Thank you, your honor.”

Well, the divorce is set and in motion. Documents were signed and we went to the clerk’s desk to get copies. What I had originally wanted as a neat and orderly document was now marked all over. For some reason, it did not bother me that much. I knew this was the end of a long battle of fighting with my now ex-husband. I could finally start focusing on myself completely and cut all remaining ties with him. It would be another 6 months before I felt I was finally back to my pre-marriage self making my journey to self-discovery last 3 years. Every situation is different and holds different aspects. I think the reason it took me so long is because the divorce itself took so long. If I had resources available or sought them out, the process probably would have reduced drastically. Being the type of person I am, I tend to hold information and sit on it for what feels like forever. I do not recommend anyone to do this. It adds significant time to the healing and grieving process. My new motto is to act today, live freely tomorrow.

In the 2 years I had been back in Virginia, I began working on an associate’s degree in Criminal Justice. I always had a passion for the justice system and had been studying it since I was a teenager. Even before I signed up for classes, I had at least a little knowledge in every aspect of the criminal justice field. Some areas, my knowledge was more extensive than others. I had explored the various topics, did case-studies, and researched information.

Recently, I even went to the site of one of the case-studies I did as a teen so that I could see firsthand everything that I had studied. I went to houses of some of the victims, visited their gravesites, and explored the area that weekly meetings were held. It was almost like it was the last piece of the puzzle that I was looking for. I even felt as though I already knew the town and exactly how to get to the various locations.

So, entering college for this was a piece of cake. Even still, I learned more than I thought I would. I made contacts with local law enforcement that I still call on from time to time today with questions. The number one question I get asked when someone finds out my career choice is, “Which show do you like best? My favorite is CSI.” Every time, I simply chuckle and say I’m not interested in that sort of thing. They give me a look of confusion and I continue saying that with my extensive knowledge, I can’t watch them without nit-picking everything. I also tell them that I prefer non-fiction over fiction, simply because I would rather educate myself first before being blinded by something untrue, which is also why I don’t watch TV. Gasps are always followed by that statement.

The court date is set!

A few days later I sent him the updated version that will be approved and signed in court. He started freaking out and saying that he didn’t really trust me and would have to review them again. I didn’t mind. I probably would have done the same. But I knew they wouldn’t be a problem because I had only changed the pieces that would make it approved by the court. I verified in detail that all the pieces concerning us were accurate and complete. I filled in dates that would have otherwise been written in. I hate having a document that is written all over. I like filing and turning in things that are neat and orderly.

Well, some time goes by and we go back to the court house to re-file. This time we simply met in front of the court house with the documents in hand. They had not been signed or notarized yet as the last one had been. Upon meeting him on the court steps, I point in the direction of the bank and begin to mention the notary. He was extremely inpatient and walked into the building before letting me finish. Again, I decided to drop it. I figured I’d let the clerk handle it again. He was under the assumption that they notarized documents in the courthouse and did not want to be told differently. Upon walking up to the clerk, a different one this time, the conversation went like this.

Him: “I would like to file these.”

Clerk: “Wait, they aren’t notarized.”

Him: “Yeah, don’t you do that?”

Clerk: “No. You have to take them to a notary.”

Him: getting irate, “Where do I do that!?”

Me: “Danny, as I was trying to say before, there’s a Bank Of America two blocks from here.”

Him: storms off

Clerk: Directed to me. “I can almost see why you want a divorce!”

I smiled and apologized for his actions and agreed with her. I told her she has part of the reason already.

So basically, at this point, you can probably see how the actual divorce proceeding was going. In the public eye, I was taking it one step at a time and not letting it get the best of me. For the past two years I had struggled with my inner demon. I had wondered if I made the right choice. I doubted myself in so many ways. I had been on a never-ending roller coaster that I was still waiting on to get off.

We notarized the documents and they were finally filed. A few days pass and we get word that the official court date is set for June 28, 2010. Exactly 3 days after our third anniversary. Some relief came over me, but not much. Now I worried that something would go wrong in court and the papers would not get signed. Being the “defendant” in the case, my presence was still not necessary in court. I decided that I would go anyway just to be sure. I knew I could not rely on my husband to follow through with anything. It was a big issue for him. He rarely followed through with his word and whenever he did, it was always something that was self-satisfying.

Divorce Papers!

After awhile, I simply became a recluse. I stopped talking to people. My social life became almost obsolete. I was living in a world that I had created for myself of sorrow and regret. I was vulnerable and desperate. I was depressed and angry. I had no idea where or what my next move in life would be. I honestly do not believe he really knew how much I loved him. He didn’t want to know. He will never know the impact of hardship I faced on a day to day basis of being a loyal military wife. He will never know the amount of tears I shed, or the length of time it took me to rebuild my broken heart.

It had been a little over a year since I returned from Germany and decided to proceed with a divorce. Papers had not been filed yet, and I had no motivation to do anything about it. He was still stationed in Germany and I was back living in Virginia under my parent’s roof. It wouldn’t be for another year and a half that anything would get filed or done about it. I got some hope when he was discharged from the army in November of 2009 and returned to Virginia Beach. We had the papers drawn up through an internet resource that he was insistent on using. I just wanted to get it over with so that I could close the chapter in my life and jump on the healing wagon officially.

I remember getting a little excited when I received the email that contained the papers. This was around January of 2010. Two years had passed since my return from Germany and it was 2 months shy of two years that I had made the decision official. I printed them out and quickly started to review them. I was shocked to see how many errors were in the document, with the main one being that it was referencing Hampton to be a county. I immediately took the papers to a paralegal that I knew to ask her to look over them. She did and came back saying exactly what I was thinking. It needed to say the City of Hampton instead of Hampton County.

I told him about that and the other errors and he would not listen to me. I felt like it was back to square one. This is what I had been going through all along with him. He did not want to listen to what I had to say and swore that whatever he did was the correct way. The only difference this time is that I had had enough. I figured I would let him take the papers to the clerk’s office and attempt to file them and I wanted to be there when he did. Why you ask? My presence was not necessary due to him being insistent before with being the plaintiff. I wanted to be there so that I could laugh at him when the clerk told him the same information that I had tried telling him before. I wanted to see his embarrassment when he was told he was wrong. The conversation between him and the clerk went something like this:

Clerk: “The judge and court won’t accept this. Hampton is a city, not a county.”

Him: “I went through an online divorce papers website, and that is how they came back to me.”

Clerk: “Those websites aren’t always accurate.”

Him: “But my friends all went through the websites and …”

Clerk: interrupting him, “And your friends are probably still married, aren’t they?”

Me: smirking in the background, trying to control my laughter.

Clerk: “You have to get them fixed or have a new one drawn up. The court won’t accept these.”

Him: “But I paid $250 for these ones!”

Me: “Danny, hold on. I can re-write them. I’ll use that on as a guideline and fix it to where the court will accept it.”

Him: “Ok, fine!” and he stormed out the door.

My laughter finally breaks free at this point and I look at the clerk and apologize for his actions. I told her I tried explaining that to him already, but he wouldn’t listen to me. She understood and told me it was alright.

Living in San Diego

I began to see myself making rash decisions. These decisions I would have never made with a clear mind. I felt that I needed to get away from everything I knew. If I did so, I would start to feel better and heal. Or so I thought. I met a guy online that was a member of a band that I was figuratively in love with. I began pouring my heart out to him. He sympathized and even sent me flowers. This gave me false hope and false happiness. I was literally trying to hide the pain through him.

I decided to move to California to be with him. I was still legally married, so I started telling my husband a few things. I told him I was thinking about moving. I mentioned Georgia, South Dakota, North Dakota, Spain and California. Different reasons and different people followed each location. I told him that I would return back to Virginia in January. Little did he know was that this would be the trip I made to get the divorce in motion. He told me he was going to file a desertion clause if I left Virginia. All I could do was laugh hysterically. The little bit of knowledge I had of divorce stated that you can only have a grounds of desertion if the spouse leaves the marital home with no intention of returning and without informing the other party. I was telling him that I was leaving for awhile! Granted, I made it out to be that I wasn’t sure yet as to where I was going, but I was keeping him informed. Also, we never had a marital home and we considered ourselves separated. I told him this information I had along with the fact that he knew how to contact me. I had no intentions of shutting him out of my life completely yet. He had my phone number, he had my parents’ number, he had their address, and my email would still be valid. If at any point he wanted to get a hold of me or know where I was, he had resources of doing just that.

When I moved to California in June, I moved in with another man. We were just roommates and I figured it was far enough away to not look fishy. I was still battling my own insecurities. I was still trying to rebuild myself. What I did not know at the time was that the next 6 months of my life would be an emotional turmoil. The guy ended up being abusive. About a week before Christmas, I wanted to talk to him about something. With the emotional state I was still in from my marriage, I was in no shape to think rationally. He was on his phone talking to someone, and out of nowhere I grabbed it and pushed the hang up button. We yelled back and forth, him about his phone and me about wanting to talk. Then, he came after me. I ran into the bedroom and attempted to close the door behind me. I was too late and weak in my efforts as he pushed through the door with raging colors. He threw me onto the bed and began to strangle me. He threatened that he was going to kill me. The next few moments were a blur as I fought for my life.

Upon breaking free, I jetted from the apartment. I went to the local grocery store that was around the corner and one of the guys I knew that worked there sat outside with me while I waited for the cops. My mom had told me horror stories about her ex-husband being abusive. I learned through her mistake of staying with him for awhile. Her story allowed me to be smart and not tolerate an abusive man.

After filing the police report, I was transferred to a homeless shelter for domestic violence victims. I already had a return flight to Virginia set up in January so I could return to get my divorce processed. But that wasn’t for another three weeks! I tossed and turned that first night being in total disbelief. In one year, I go from being married and wanting a divorce, to moving across the country and becoming homeless, even if only temporary. My world came crashing down harder than I could have ever imagined. I finally realized the full extent of where my emotions and mental state lied and it was as though they hit an all time low. I did manage to get my flight advanced two weeks, so I was leaving California on Christmas day.

The Decision

The first couple of weeks of March of 2008 I had started to let my secret be known to my mom. I would drop subtle hints about the big D word to her. I remember vividly one night standing in her kitchen after telling her that I wanted a divorce. I was wailing. She didn’t understand and neither did my dad. She said that I should try and work it out and wait. “Momma, I’ve been trying. There’s no hope anymore.” I told her. I could barely speak through my tears. At the time, I didn’t understand why she was pushing me to keep trying. All I could see was that she was siding with him. I felt hopeless. I tried explaining to her what was going on the previous months. I honestly felt completely alone at this point. I had no clue of what to do. It appeared that my mom wasn’t being supportive, and my dad just sat in the background and listened. Both of my parents had been divorced before getting together, so I had went into the conversation expecting them to be more sympathetic. They probably were, but with the state of mind I was in, I failed to see it. It was as though I was a teenager all over again, and that’s what teenagers do, they fail to see the true intent of their parents.

The following day, I called my husband to break the news to him. He wept, he pleaded with me to not do it. Honestly, I did not expect this reaction from him. I expected him to be ok with it. I told him that I already decided that it is what I want, and that there were no ways of avoiding it at this point. This particular day was my birthday. I had turned 25 that day. This was also exactly 6 weeks and 3 days following my return from Germany. I believe I had actually made the decision after 6 weeks, but waited the extra 3 days to be certain before I jumped on the divorce wagon. I considered myself separated as of January 28^th, the day after I returned from Germany, even though there wasn’t anything documented with the courts. It was the first day that he and I were not cohabitating and well after the last time we had sexual intercourse.

During the weeks that followed, my mom and husband began exchanging emails. His intent was to try and reach out to her as being the good guy. Her intent was to try and fully understand the situation. She also tried explaining to him the type of person I was. He had no part in it, he could care less. Or at least, that’s how it came across to her. When she went to clarify what he had written to her, he would either ignore it or come up with some excuse or non-relating reasoning for it. It wasn’t until then that I knew that my mom fully understood where I was coming from. She came to me one day and told me she was sorry and that she could now see what I saw. We both cried a little bit. She was finally on my side completely instead of being a mutual party. She saw his condescending ways first hand. She saw how he put himself on a pedestal, even to her. She saw how he spoke of me. She was able to read between the lines like I had. I felt a little relieved to know that she was finally beginning to see everything in a clear and bright light.