Marital Fraud: Questions Answered

My recent Huffington Post piece, It’s Not Fraud If You’re Married has generated some interesting and thoughtful questions. Here are the answers to some of them. It may make you think about your own situation.

Why don’t I take him to court to make him pay?

That’s a whole essay! Read it here: Why I Choose Not to Play Criminal Pursuit

Did we communicate about money?

My ex and I had discussions about finances (both the current state and goals) all of the time. It turns out; however, that he was feeding me lies, at least in the last several years of the marriage. I never had reason to doubt him and I saw occasional documents (now I know they were manufactured…did I mention he did graphics for a living?) that supported his claims. We had an agreement that any purchase above $100 had to be discussed with the other. I upheld my end of that bargain.

Did we live above our means?

Not even close! I drive an almost fourteen year car that I bought new in 1999 for $18,000. Until I received an iPhone last spring, I had a Nokia flip phone. Our house was cheap for the area ($130,000) and we put a substantial amount down. By the time he left, our combined monthly income was almost $6,000 after taxes and we only needed about $2,500 to live. Now, all of that being said, he did start to develop more expensive tastes. He purchased a 2005 Toyota 4-Runner (not the cheapest vehicle, but still a practical one for us), Kindle, and was on his 2nd iPhone. Of course, that was the stuff I knew about…

Where did the money go?

If you find out, please let me know! I have no idea where the money went. I discovered some purchases after he left, but they were rather small ( a videogame system, an additional bike). I also learned of trips and dinners/drinks out. But still, it doesn’t account for the copious sums he managed to make disappear (he could give David Copperfield a run for his money!). I could only track the money so far because it went into accounts that I did not have access to or was withdrawn as cash. Drugs? Gambling? A third wife? With this man, who knows? Yet another thing I have had to just let go of.

Why did he get the house?

He took out a home equity line without my knowledge. That meant that, at the time of the divorce, the house was worth what was owed on it. I had moved out of the house immediately and into a friend’s spare bedroom. I could not afford the house, literally or emotionally. It sat vacant during the 8 months of the divorce proceedings. I tried – through the lawyer layers – to convince him to sell the house. He did not cooperate. Then, he shocked us in court when he requested the house. He seemed to be under the delusion that it had equity. So, he got it. I guess he changed his mind once he realized it was a cash cow that he already bled.

Would a prenup have protected me?

Not really. All it would have been is another document stating that he owed me money. Civil cases take a certain amount of cooperation, regardless of prior agreements. I don’t think it would have made a difference at all to him.

Can’t he be jailed for contempt of court for not upholding the terms of the divorce decree?

Technically, yes. However, I would have to continue to push the system. And he would have to show up in court. There is a felony warrant out for his arrest. Last I knew, the IRS was trying to track him down. Do you really think he would show up at a hearing for not meeting terms of an agreement? Yeah, exactly. Plus, just to get to that point would cost me more money and steal more of my life away. No, thanks.

I realized soon after the divorce was final that I could either spend my life trying to punish him (and thus punishing myself in the process) or I could decide to live. I chose the latter.

For more information:

Who is He?

Where is He Now?

My Motivation

Accounting of Loss

And, to read about how I learned to love and trust again, check out my book, Lessons From the End of a Marriage.

Why Criminal Pursuit is a Game I Refuse to Play

Here is my response to the oft-asked question. “Why don’t you find him and make him pay?”

Why I Refuse to Play Criminal Pursuit on Huffington Post

This is a Test of the Emergency Rant System

Emergency
Emergency (Photo credit: Terry Bain)

This is only a test. If this were a real rant, the computer would be out the window and my hands would be pummeling the heavy bag instead of the keyboard.

It is not fair.

It’s not fair that I am left cleaning up and facing the consequences of the enormous financial mess he left behind. I just found out today that it’s worse than I thought and I will be making payments on charges he ran up for the next few years. Every time I write that check, how do I keep from wondering what I’m paying for – women, booze, trips, gambling? What? When I tried to investigate the charges shortly after receiving the text, he changed the password while I was in the account. Covering tracks, I suppose.

The only reason he was on the card was so that he could handle the occasional phone calls needed for a dispute or issue since I couldn’t use the phone while teaching. Apparently he saw it – and me – as his personal ATM. I feel like I’m now paying penance for trusting him.

It is not fair.

I have worked so hard for so many years to try to get ahead. I gave up my intended career and over 100 college hours to follow him and support us while his employment was uncertain. I tutored for hours after school to make extra money to spend on trips or the hot tub we bought a year before he left. And after he left? I’ve had to be so careful with money. The lawyers, courts, and various other debts took my income that first year and made a significant dent the next two. I was just starting to breath, thinking I was making progress. But, no. Not yet. Even though he’s gone, he still manages to hurt me. It’s like the nightmare after the horror movie. I just want it to end.

It is not fair.

As far as I know, he continues to sidestep his responsibilities. They’re after him, but I don’t know if anything will ever come from it.

It is not fair.

But I’ll be okay.

Just like everything else, I’ll get through this. My marathon next week can be training for writing those damned checks. One check for every mile, perhaps. And when it’s done, it’s done. The end.

I’ll be okay.

My boyfriend’s response when I texted him the news today? “We will get through it together:).” Yes, we will. And, you know what? Coming home to a messy kitchen seems pretty silly compared to fraud.

I’ll be okay.

I’m lucky. I have it so much easier than divorced people with children to look out for. I have a solid career that gives me the ability to sign those accursed checks. This has an expiration date. I just wish I didn’t have to continue to hold on to the the soured milk.

I will be okay. I will end today grateful for what I have rather than cursing what was taken.

That is the conclusion of the test of our emergency rant system. We now resume our regular programming.

I Was Lucky

An Open Letter to the IRS

And, an update on the situation: Practicing What I Preach