Putting It All Behind Me

Posted on by stilllearning2b

You know those times when you don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you finally get a deep lungful of air?

Well, apparently I haven’t been breathing for the past 6 years. Or actually for the past 6 years and 5 days, to be exact.

And I didn’t even realize it until today. Or more specifically, when I received the word that not only did I qualify for the car loan, I qualified for the lowest interest rate.

I can’t even begin to explain the relief that gives me.

Not only does a new (and hopefully more trustworthy car) give me freedom, the loan is a sign that I can finally put the financial betrayal behind me.

I’ve always said that the financial betrayal was the worst. It’s the one that refuses to disappear. That tails behind me as stubborn and persistent as a hungry toddler. Only much, much more nefarious.

I have been reminded of it every time I’ve had to make payments on debts he incurred (for things like HIS honeymoon). It’s been thrown in my face with letters and phone calls from collections, threatening me because of his lies. And it’s held me back as I’ve worked to improve my credit score.

It’s been a load of shame on my back for the past 6 years.

I’ve felt embarrassed every time my financial situation has to be exposed. I instinctively pull out my divorce decree, ready to defend myself against the stains still on my record. I’m not sure what’s worse – the feeling that others might think I was responsible for the debt or the knowledge that I was a chump, blindly ignorant to my ex’s machinations.

I’ve been uncomfortable with my car – easily the oldest in the parking lot at work and probably also the senior in my neighborhood – for a few years. I don’t like to let people into the vehicle, where the orange foam spilling out of the cracked seats will tickle their sides. I like to arrive to the location where I will meet a new person before them, so that I am not associated with the rapidly aging vehicle. Because even though I’m not one to give much credence to appearances, I know that others are judging me by my ride.

It’s been a flame of anger for the past 6 years.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that he stole my money and my credit and escaped unharmed as far as I know. It’s not fair that all of the careful planning and saving that I did was wiped out for his impulsive and deceptive actions. It’s not fair that he was granted the newer and more valuable car (that was almost paid off) by the courts and I received the ten year old model.

I’m angry at myself. For believing what my ex told me and not looking for myself. For trusting that he cared as much about my financial well-being as he did his own. For being stupid and gullible and naive.

And I’m reminded of this anger every time I grow frustrated with my car or see his impact still imprinted on my credit. I’ve had to very intentional and generous with gratitude to counteract the scalding impact of his actions. And that’s not fair either.

It’s been a cloak of fear around my heart for the past 6 years.

In the beginning, I couldn’t even bear to see the extent of the damage. I narrowed my eyes when I looked at account balances, blurring the total as though that would somehow soften its effect. I had my dad examine my credit report after promising that he would not reveal the actual score to me. I was afraid to face the evidence that he had been whittling away at my well-being for years.

Every trip to the mailbox and every unknown number on my phone caused my pulse to rise as I braced for news of another account or threats on a known one. Even as parceled out paychecks to pay down the debt, I was petrified that another would surface and my careful accounting wouldn’t be enough to save me.

I finally faced my credit score for the first time since the life implosion two years ago. Ever since, I obsessively check Credit Karma every day. And I’ve watched the number rise as my identity is slowly replacing that of my ex on the accounts.

But I haven’t really trusted the number. It felt fake, somehow.

And so, when I nervously entered my information on the credit application for the car, I was sure that I would be declined. Or at least offered some sub par rate. And when the phone rang mere moments after I hit “submit,” I saw it as verification that my fears were founded.

“Everything looks good,” I heard faintly, as though it was coming through a tunnel.

It was only after I hung up that I realized I had collapsed onto the floor, relief buckling my knees beneath me.

Because it’s about way more than the money. Or the car.

I can finally feel like this is all behind me. Like I am no longer held back or limited by any of what happened.

And for the first time in 6 years and 5 days, I can finally breath freely.

Gotta Have Faith

Posted on by stilllearning2b

This house crush is proving to be an emotional affair.

We saw the house this morning. There were no fatal flaws. Just great big spaces and bigger questions. We were not ready to fall in love. The money isn’t yet fully saved. The current lease is not final.

Yet the house is ready.

We spent all day courting the house. We had friends-in-the-know (a realtor and a former contractor) check it out and give us their opinions (gotta love a freebie on-the-spot mini inspection!). We researched loan options. Finally, we worked with a friend of a friend to start the process to get preapproved for a mortgage. Assuming the numbers work, we put in a bid tomorrow.

Wow.

It has been a whirlwind.

It’s scary. There are so many unknowns. It’s such a big financial commitment. We will probably be house poor for the first 6-12 months, a position I hate being in. It’s scary but the possibilities are tantalizing.

Brock has been amazing. After the initial walkthroughs, when we were just sitting down to talk it through, Brock posed a question. “Does this, buying a house that will need some remodeling, trigger you emotionally at all since that is what you did before?”

Wow.

I was speechless. It was a great question; my ex and I purchased a house when we were first married that needed similar types of work. Remodeling that home was a big part of my marriage. I took the time to mull it over. Yes, the house and process brought up memories. But they were matter of fact.  There were no emotions triggered. All the emotion I feel today is about the present situation, not the past.

Brock was willing to walk away if the house triggered me emotionally.

Wow.

Even the financial stuff wasn’t too bad. I still have such shame and anxiety over the mess that I have. The friend of a friend that we worked with on the approval process didn’t make me feel bad as he asked about each item. I had some anger flare at my ex for putting me in this place, but overall, I was okay. That was a weight lifted, as I have been nervous about trying to buy a house for years.

The timing is not what we planned. The house is bigger than we planned. It needs more work than we planned. But the location is perfect. The features check every box. I can see Brock and I and our amazing friends in the space (after we host a few painting parties, that is!). The value is excellent. And the price is acceptable.

I don’t know how this is going to come together. I don’t know how we’ll make it work. Especially with a wedding around the corner as well.

This is one of those times when you just have to let go and trust that it will work out. I was in a similar position 3 years ago (Recalculating) when I had no employment, no place to live and only a few weeks into a new relationship. I wasn’t worried then. It felt right to stay in Atlanta and give my relationship with Brock a chance. I’ve never regretted it.

I’ve just gotta have faith.

Faith that no matter how this works out, it will be okay.

If we get the house, we will find a way to move sooner than expected. If we don’t get the house, we will find another when it’s time.

 

Yup, just gotta have faith.

And maybe a glass of wine to relax:)

I Did It. I Finally Did It.

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Dumbo Elephant Mural
Dumbo Elephant Mural (Photo credit: sameffron)

It may seem as though I have slain all of the demons from my past. I can look at pictures without tears. I’m no longer fueled by anger. I have let myself find forgiveness. I have learned how to trust again and I have found love.

But there has been one huge elephant of a demon that I’ve been afraid to face. One I have been avoiding, tiptoeing around its bulk so as not to disturb it. I’ve been good about pretending it isn’t there. That it doesn’t matter. And for a time, it didn’t matter. But that time is over.

Last night, I did it. I faced that final demon head on.

And I survived.

It wasn’t as bad as I feared it may be (it never is, is it?) yet facing it didn’t bleed it of all its power. But at least I know now what I am dealing with and I can feel good about not hiding from it.

I did it. I finally did it.

I checked my credit score.

I used to have perfect credit. I was anal about making payments on time. I had large credit limits yet low levels of debt. I found security in my number. Perhaps I even looked at that number as validation. I must be a good person, I can get a good interest rate.

Apparently, that number was too much for my ex to resist. In the last couple (I think?) years of the marriage, he used my credit. He used my honesty to fund his lies.

When all of this came out within days of the text, I felt huge amounts of shame. I was embarrassed that I didn’t know he was embezzling from the marriage (I counted on fraud alert, but it doesn’t protect you from spouses). I was horrified to receive threatening letters from creditors in my name (he was no longer around to intercept the mail). I was furious with him. I felt violated and used. Dirty. I wanted to wash myself of his sins.

I couldn’t face the enormity of it. I had my dad check my credit, looking for what accounts my ex had used in my name. I didn’t want to know numbers, only names.

In the divorce, most of debt was his responsibility, although he never fulfilled his end of the bargain, thus leading to a foreclosure in my name. A parting gift, perhaps? The few accounts in my name where mine to deal with.

For the last almost four years, I have been dealing with them.

Clean Up, Aisle 5

An Open Letter to the IRS

This is a Test of the Emergency Rant System

Practicing What I Preach

I paid the IRS and then received a refund once I was granted innocent spouse relief. I paid off one credit line. And I’m working on the last (the most horrific, both in scale and in emotion, because some of it was used to fund his pre-honeymoon with his other wife).

My cautious nature with money means that bills are again being paid on time. I’ve been able to begin to reestablish myself as a credit worthy individual. But I still couldn’t look at the number.

I saw it like a scarlet mark of shame, quantifying my misplaced trust and stupidity.

It’s also the only factor from my past that doesn’t only exist in the past. It still has the capacity to cause harm, to derail my future as surely as  my marriage.

But now I’ve faced that elephantine demon, sized it up. The starvation diet has been working; I’m sure its bulk has been reduced since it appeared. I now know the demon I am working with and I can move forward with the rest of my life.

I did it. I finally did it.

It’s Not Fraud If You’re Married

Marital Fraud: Questions Answered