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.

My overseas voyage!

Throughout the duration that I was in Germany with him, he constantly accused me of cheating on him and being pregnant. “Wow,” I thought, “That’s a ridiculous claim.” He asked me why I couldn’t be the typical army wife. Due to my research and what others have said, both of the above statements are contradictory. You see, I knew a lot of military personnel. They were always telling me about how either they or their fellow service members were finding their spouse to be cheating on them. I have nothing to base this on as actual evidence, for all I have is word of mouth. So I was under the assumption, at the time, that the typical army wife cheats on her husband whenever possible. My own husband even told me stories about how he would see the wives run off the first chance they got to have sexual intercourse with a man other than her husband. So why exactly was he wanting me to be a typical army wife. What I gathered as his definition of a typical wife was someone who was loyal and obedient to her husband. This I did fulfill. I was the loyal wife he wanted and deserved. I consistently gave him my all.

I had gained some weight between our marriage and my trip to Germany. He looked at this as my being pregnant. He did not want to listen to the fact that woman generally gain some weight during stressful and emotional times. The amount of weight varies from one person to another, but it does happen. Obviously, he could not have been the one to plant the seed and cause my pregnancy, so I was cheating on him. I will share some insight on how closed minded my husband really was. I am infertile. I am unable to get pregnant due to a medical condition. He knew this. He was well aware of this fact about me well before we said our vows. But yet, he still insisted I was pregnant and cheating on him. Well, let me clarify a little. I can get pregnant if I used fertility drugs, and even that can be a hit or miss and take years to be effective. He had been away for 6 months; there is no way that I could have gotten pregnant in that short amount of time, assuming I was actually cheating on him. I didn’t want to be with another man in that way. All I wanted was him, and he refused to believe it.

Upon returning to the states, my parents met me at the airport and were there when they were supposed to. They were actually a few minutes late, but by the time I found my luggage and pulled it off the conveyor belt; they were there with open arms. They asked me how my trip had gone and I told them it was good. For the most part, it was. I figured I would get into the nitty gritty details later on in the week. I did not want to alarm them until after I had thought everything through and was certain of my next course of action.

Over the next few weeks, I felt broken, unappreciated and lost in what I considered my world of chaos. I continued to talk with my husband and tried to make sense of it all. I was contemplating divorce and at the same time, I was trying to look for ways to save the marriage. Every time I saw some hope, he would basically knock me back down again. If it wasn’t my supposed cheating, it was money. He constantly denied me my share of the BAH. He even went as far as trying to deny me my share of the tax return. Granted, when you are married it’s all supposed to go into the same place. He was insistent on having separate accounts. So I insisted that at least half of the tax return be allotted to me. I was able to squeeze a thousand out of him, even though half would have been $1500. I was reliant on the tax return to make final payments on credit cards and to get my wisdom teeth removed. Another thing with money is that I asked him for a little extra of the BAH so that I could eat. This was asked before my trip to Germany. He refused, and I noticed or heard from him that he would go out every weekend to bars and drink the nights away.

During this whole time, he would consistently put me down and felt that he was better than me. He may not have realized this, but it is how he came across. So this is what I was facing as well. I was at my wit’s end.

The boarding and landing

So January comes around and I began to make preparations for the trip. I was scheduled to depart on the 8^th and return on the 27^th. I had explained to the landlord that I was going out of the country for a while and that I should return on the 27^th. This was my first time ever leaving the United States so I was a little nervous. With the 27^th being so close to the first of the month, I asked if I could go ahead and give them two rent checks, one for January, and a second for February. I had asked this in case the return flights got delayed in the event of an unforeseeable occurrence. She was happy to work with me, and accepted the second check, dated for 2-1-2008. She told me she would put it with the other checks she gets early from soldiers. The apartment was practically next door to the Air Force Base, so there were a lot of airmen in the apartments. I don’t think she would have allowed me to “pay in advance” so to speak if she didn’t already do the same thing with military personal that had to leave for a few weeks at a time.

So, I was happy. My ducks were in line. I was ready to board the plane in Norfolk. At this point, I had no idea what to expect. Would I find something to confirm my suspicions? Was he actually doing anything and if so, would he have had enough time to squash it, even if only temporarily. Was he being loyal all along and my gut was giving me inaccurate instincts? Keep in mind; I never accused him of anything. I never mentioned the emails I found. What I was really doing in this trip was to try and put everything that happened in the past behind me. I wanted to look towards a brighter future, with my husband. I wanted him to see what it would actually be like with me so close to him. I wanted him to reap of the benefits of having a wife to come home to with dinner in the oven. I wanted to do the wifely duties of taking care of him. I yearned to be close to him. I was in love with him, despite his flaws that I saw on a day to day basis in emails and phone calls.

Upon landing in Frankfurt, I was exhausted. I had not slept on the plane like I had hoped. With it being an overnight flight and landing in Frankfurt during the mid morning hours local time, I had been awake for close to 18 hours in total. This doesn’t include the 2-3 hour train and bus ride that I had to embark upon in order to get to my final destination. I mention this so that I can share some of the reason as to why I decided to go forward with the divorce upon my return to the states. My husband told me that he would meet me outside of baggage claim and ride with me the rest of the way. As I exited the doors of baggage claim where he was supposed to be waiting, he was nowhere to be found. I waited and looked around in the close proximity for a good half hour before I decided to find a phone. I exchanged some currency, bought a donut so that I could get change to use in the pay phone. I called him. No answer. I tried a second time, again no answer. I thought that maybe there was a delay with the trains so I headed back to baggage claim. I waited for an additional 20 minutes before I went back to the phone to try the call again. No answer. I began to walk around the airport because I was tired and was afraid I’d fall asleep. Having my baggage and being in a foreign country, I wanted to stay alert.

I found the train station that was attached to the airport and assumed that this is where he would arrive. I hung out there for about ten minutes before making my way back to baggage claim. On the way, I found a lost-in-found office. I was frustrated and stressed out. So, in order to try and lighten my mood a little, I walked into the office and declared that I had lost my husband. The poor gentleman behind the counter knew little English and had no idea what I was trying to say. I could tell he was trying to help me in the best way he could. Even though I had no idea what he was saying, I could tell you that he was one of the nicest and sweetest people that I came across in my voyage across the pond. His body language said it all. He got me hooked up with an employee that was American and spoke English in the same fashion as me. Only problem was that she was in an office on the opposite side of me. She actually worked with the American military personnel that came through the airport. This was good I thought! I gave her the number I had for my husband and she told me she would continue to try and contact him. She also told me I could leave my luggage in the office while I went back to baggage claim to search for him.

On the way back to the area we were supposed to meet, he found me. Because of my mental and physical state at this point, I was staring at the floor as I walked. I barely had the strength to walk, yet alone keep my head held high. We embraced and it felt nice to finally be in the presence of a familiar face. I told him we had to go back to the ISO office so that I could get my things and let them know that I found him. He thought of this as humorous. He began to tell me that he had been on this hallway all along, and that surely he would have found me if I was in the area. All lies, I thought. I had been either directly in front of the baggage claim or on the hallway for the majority of the time I was in the airport. I had only left to use the phone and find the train station, and of course, the time I was in the two offices. It couldn’t have been longer than a half hour that I was away. I let it go though. I figured it was better to let it be than to start an argument or make accusations. I asked him where his phone was and why he didn’t answer it when I called. He told me he left it at home and felt he didn’t need it. “You didn’t need it? You should have known that I would find a way to call you if we didn’t find each other in a reasonable amount of time!” I said this in the nicest way possible to him. He apologized and we called it a day.