I Did It. I Finally Did It.

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

Walking a Marriage

photo-66

Walking Tiger is pure joy. There is an ease in the connection, a trusted bond evident in the matched rhythms of human and dog. The leash is loose in my hand and the worries loose in my mind. We move forward together, sharing the experience in our unique ways (he spends much more time with his nose to the ground and leg to the sky than I do:)!). We walk in parallel, the journey strengthening our connection and our trust.

It wasn’t always this way with Tiger. First, mutual trust had to be established. He needed to know that I was a competent guide and I needed to believe that he wouldn’t snap or bolt when given freedoms. We needed to learn the other’s rhythms and patterns. I’ll admit that Tiger was easier to train than I was – I let my fears have too much power for a time. But with time and practice (and lots of patience on Tiger’s part!), I learned to relax and enjoy the walk.

The skills and strategies I learned at the end of Tiger’s leash have also helped me in my relationship. Through the leash, I learned how to trust myself and another. I trained my mind to relax and my grip to loosen. I learned to enjoy the walk rather than fear what might lay around the next corner.

I learned that when I use too much restraint with Tiger, when I pull back out of fear, my reaction only transfers the negative energy to him and gives it power. Pulling back too tightly only causes him to want to pull against me. On the other hand, if I trust in him, he responds in kind, staying by my side instead of straining to get ahead. When I trust him, he acts trustworthy. The leash now acts as only a reminder of the bond, not as a restraint. Relationships are no different – try too hard to hold someone back and they will fight to be free. Trust them and allow them to choose to be by your side.

When I first started walking Tiger, I tried to avoid other dogs. I knew he was friendly, but I was not confident enough in myself to handle him (he does weigh almost as much as me!). As my confidence grew, I stopped giving passing dogs such a wide berth. Time and time again, Tiger proved himself as he either gave a friendly greeting or ignored the other canines, depending upon the situation and my intent. When I am wary, his body language reflects my distrust and warns the other dog away. Now, even when loose and aggressive dogs follow us, he (and I!) remain calm and confident. The partners in a marriage should not be afraid to encounter others either. If you treat everything as a threat, it will respond in kind.

As I have become more comfortable with Tiger, our world together has expanded and enriched. He would not be the dog he is, nor would we have the bond we do, if he remained locked in the security of the house. By exploring together, we have grown together. Relationships need room to breath, spaces to explore and adventures to look forward to. If they spend every day trapped inside, they will become as lazy as an old dog.

One of my favorite habits that Brock and I established early on was taking frequent walks together, often with Tiger sandwiched between us. Those walks formed the backbone of our relationship as we explored and bonded, talked and listened, building trust and finding connections. This is our time together to take pleasure in the fellowship and enjoy the walk.

I have Tiger to thank for my lessons in walking a dog. And now I am ready to apply them to walking a marriage:)

photo

 

Learning to Trust Myself

New Orleans. Mardi Gras. And Super Bowl!
New Orleans. Mardi Gras. And Super Bowl!

 

The hardest part of learning to trust after betrayal has been learning to trust myself.

My fiance and his cousin, both huge Ravens fans, were lucky enough to score tickets to the Super Bowl. In New Orleans. During Mardi Gras. Talk about the ultimate boy’s weekend!

Brock came back into town Monday night but due to his exhaustion on Monday and our crazy schedules on Tuesday, we really didn’t have a chance to connect until last night.

We went to one of our favorite eating spots, ordered our food and he set up his iPad to show me the pictures from the weekend. It was a bit of a deja vu experience for me.

Almost four years ago, I sat in a similar restaurant with my husband, a MacBook Pro open in front of us as he showed me pictures of his recent 10 day trip to Brazil. On the surface, much was the same between those two days. Underneath? Nothing in common at all.

Just weeks before leaving the marriage, my husband returned from what I thought was a business trip in Brazil. I was told that he was there to work with a frequent client of his and the specified show he was supposed to be working was in Sao Paulo That was true. The rest was not. The details he told me about the build and his frustrations with the Brazilian labor were complete lies. The names of people he was working with were utter fabrications. Instead of a work trip, it was actually a pre honeymoon with his soon-to-be second wife.

I didn’t know any of this until later.

I completely trusted my husband. It never would have entered my mind that he culled pictures to make a file that was “Lisa” safe, removing all evidence of his fiancee. I never thought to carefully examine the “work” pictures in the mix, looking for signs that they were pulled from the internet or from earlier shows.

My brain trusted my husband completely. Yet, my gut was unsettled during that entire trip. I was anxious, restless, filled with concern for his safety. It knew something.

Last weekend could not have been more different. My fiance was at the ultimate party and I was completely calm. I had no anxiety. No unease.  I looked at his pictures with complete calm, enjoying his enjoyment.

It’s crazy to think that I used to trust my husband more than I trusted myself. I believed him more that I believed my own instincts. I have learned how to trust myself. I have tuned in to my instincts and I am less inclined to rationalize any twinges that I feel. There is no guarantee that I will never be betrayed again, but at least I know that I won’t be the one to do it.

Love After Divorce: A Reflection on a Journey, Part 1

I was on Terri Trespicio’s radio show, How to Click?, last week. Her questions had me reflecting on the journey that has taken me from married to single to dating to engaged over the past few years. Yes, that’s right, I said engaged:) But, more on that later! I am always asked how I managed to go from a huddled heap on the floor in the moments after the text that ended my life as I knew it to a new, healthy relationship where I can love and trust and be vulnerable again. I’ve realized I’ve shared much about the divorce and even the dating but not much about what got me to this place. So, here goes!

I signed up for Match.com the winter after my July disaster. I truly had no expectations of finding anyone. In fact, I kept myself safely tucked behind the twin shields of my story and my planned upcoming move across the country (and the spreadsheets). I was dating for practice; I had never done it as an adult. I saw it as fun, informative, and a distraction from the pain. I went on many dates, usually 6-7 a week. Many were first dates, but I did see some guys on a repeated basis. One guy, we’ll call him John, managed to slip through some of the defenses I had erected. I slowly starting seeing him and not committing to as many dates with others.

I was drawn to the fact that John had a confident way about him that made me feel taken care of and he was not afraid to challenge me. He quickly spotted my analytical shield and worked to lower it by always greeting me with, “How do you feel?” And, he wouldn’t take my wishy-washy answers. I liked that challenge, especially because my ex never really pushed me outside of my comfort zone. What’s interesting, is that the confidence and smooth capability I was drawn to also scared me. It kept me from ever trusting him. It soon became clear that his idea of relationship perfection was for me to be a kept woman, staying at home while he supported us, which he was very capable of doing. This idea turned my stomach, however. Not only do I never want to be without my own source of income, I also can’t handle the thought of being held to another because of the need for financial security. Those were his fears coming out – a way for him to make sure that he was never abandoned. My unwillingness to be bought eventually caused him to do a disappearing act. That doesn’t go over too well with a woman whose husband did the same less than a year earlier.

Rewind to the beginning of Match Madness. One of my early dates was at a coffee shop (after a night spent in Athens. GA with John – I told you it was crazy!) with a man named Brock. There was an attraction between us immediately, yet we both had turn-offs about the other. He thought I was too conservative and too closed off. I thought he was self-centered, bordering on rude. Luckily, we both recognized that there was more there and that, in both cases, the offensive behaviors were coming out of fear and self-protection. We shared stories, talked about geeky science stuff, and talked about crazy dating experiences (he had way more stories than me at that point!). I may have written him off except that when he talked about his dog, a German shepherd he had to put down the prior year, he teared up. Tears fell down his face in a public venue with a new woman and he let them fall unapologetically. I was intrigued.

Brock and I fell into the habit of evening phone calls on the nights I wasn’t out with someone else. I remember lying on the green flannel sheets in the spare bedroom I occupied at my friend’s house, sounds of baby and kitchen life coming up the stairs, while Brock and I talked about everything and nothing. Through those conversations, he learned I was not nearly as conservative as he initially thought and I started to open up more. I learned that his ADD nature was what led to the behavior that I initially  interpreted as rude and that he was the rare person who was confident (in most areas and willing to admit when he wasn’t) and that the bravado was not hiding deeper insecurities. We eventually met for a second date at his friend’s Superbowl party. We had a good evening, but not much quality time between the game and all of the other people. When he walked me to my car at the end of the evening, he tried to kiss me. I turned away, leaving his lips on my cheek as I stayed in the embrace. I know, I know. He still doesn’t let me live that down!

Why did I turn away? This was at a time where John had established himself at the top of the Match pack. But still, I never committed exclusivity to anyone. I used my discomfort about John being in the picture as my excuse, but I wonder if I was aware that more was brewing with Brock and I was afraid of what that would bring?

Weeks later, John pulled his disappearing act. Brock happened to call on the night I realized what had occurred. He could tell I was upset and inquired as to the reason. I told him he didn’t want to know since it dealt with another guy. Well, not only did he say he wanted to know, he stayed on the phone with me for hours as I dealt with the emotions of anger and abandonment triggered by another disappearance. That was an important night for us – he saw me vulnerable and I got to see his character.

He cemented the deal soon after when he emailed me a picture of the puppy he had recently adopted. Smart man. He knew I couldn’t resist the dog. Just before my spring break, we went on our first “real” date. I met him at his house and after plenty of Tiger love, we went to dinner in downtown Roswell. We had both softened by that point, no longer operating behind our shields. When he moved to kiss me in the town park after dinner, I happily reciprocated.

I left soon after to go to Seattle with a friend over my school break. Brock and I stayed in contact. He made the first of many moves that week that eventually gained my trust (not an easy task after my experiences). He divulged some information that he could have kept hidden and I may have never known. However, he could not let things go further without telling me everything. The information didn’t bother me; it was outshined by the fact that he wasn’t prone to concealing things I may not want to hear (as my ex was apparently wont to do). Gold star for that one!

The second step on the path to trust came soon after. He was out of town for the day and asked me if I would stop by his house and take care of Tiger. Here I was, alone in the house with all of its papers and computers, only weeks into the relationship. I mentioned before that I’ve never been a snooper, but the fact that he trusted me around his stuff (and his dog) and didn’t feel like he had anything to hide made me comfortable. I’ve also talked about how Tiger helped me trust – dogs can’t lie and their temperament reveals much about their owner.

I was still dating others; he made it exclusive before I was ready to. He was patient with me. He knew that I had not had much dating experience and that I needed to end Match on my own terms. It  wasn’t always comfortable with him but he never made me feel like I needed to hide or do things differently.

 

We had a huge crossroads looming on the horizon – I was planning on moving to Seattle at the end of the school year. Here’s how crazy this was. We really didn’t start to date until April. School ends in May. I had already put in notice at my current school. I made the decision to apply for some local jobs and, assuming I got one, commit to staying in Atlanta for a year so that we could give the relationship a chance to develop beyond its infancy. I secured employment and moved from my friend’s house into an apartment down the street from Brock all in a three week span. That was scary. We didn’t want to push things, didn’t want to move quickly, but those first few steps came fast and furious out of necessity.

We became exclusive early that summer. I had no problem leaving Match behind; I no longer was interested in anyone else. We moved slowly as far as emotional intimacy is concerned. I was still having some bad days and the anger was very near the surface.He helped me during the rough patches (I remember a night where he gave me a quick boxing lesson and then left me to attempt to decimate his heavy bag as I dealt with the anger from more financial unfairness from the ex), but he didn’t coddle me. He made it clear that he was uneasy with the healing I still had ahead of me and that I wasn’t nearly as far along on that journey as I claimed to be.

He was also scarred from a past relationship and had never really been in a healthy partnership. I think it worked because we were both patient with the other and honest the entire time. I worked on moving through my pain and anger and he worked on being a partner. We never pushed. He told me he loved me one evening while we were in the car just before we pulled out of the garage to go to dinner. I responded by folding into him. He said, “I know you’re not ready to say it yet. It’s okay.”

I wasn’t ready that night, but eventually I was.

 

Love After Divorce: A Reflection on a Journey, Part 2

Gulp!

Skier carving a turn off piste
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So, last night I made a committment. I made a nonrefundable payment towards a ski trip in North Carolina over the winter holiday. I know what you’re thinking, “That sounds lovely.” It does, but it also sounds scary.

You see, I’m not afraid of snakes. Or clowns. Or heights. Or public speaking. I am; however, afraid of land that slopes away from me. Perhaps it’s because I was born in the flatlands of Florida and raised on the unvarying topography of south Texas. Maybe I had some hill trauma as a young child that has since been repressed (are there any therapists that specialize in hill trauma?). Who knows? I just know that the thought of standing at the top of a snowy icy (it is man-made stuff there) hill while standing on long, thin strips makes me panic. Just a little.

Learning to Go Downhill

I have never been skiing before. I have learned to appreciate the winter sports of sledding and tobogganing, both of which are executed a safe distance from the ground (read: under an inch). Knowing me, my first attempt at skiing will probably have me in a full squat with my butt just barely clearing the land below. Go ahead and laugh – the image makes me giggle too.

I am signing up for lessons for the two days we will be there (otherwise I would probably never move from the top of the runt bunny slope). Since I know nothing about skiing, I considered reading up on techniques prior to the trip. But then I changed my mind. You see, the reason that hills scare me is that I over think them. I want to be in control every step (or slide) of the way down. But that just isn’t possible. You have to plan at the beginning, set up your path and let go. And trust. Why is it that I can do that in my life but not on a hill?

So, I am going to try to not use my brain on this trip. I am going to work on feeling the instruction rather than memorizing and analyzing it. I am going to learn to trust in myself and my ability to get down the mountain hill relatively unscathed. Maybe I should picture myself giving a speech to a bevy of evil clowns holding snakes…that might help to keep me calm:)

So, until the trip, I am going to work on making the rest of the reservations and locating all of the gear needed, but I am not going to plan how to ski. For that, I am just going to trust my gut.

Gulp!