Saying "Thank You," and my 4th Anniversary of Discovery

August 3rd, 2014 was the 4th anniversary of the day I found out about Matt. It seems so bizarre that it has been that long. Honestly, it still feels like it's only been months, or maybe a year. Not four.

I think my lack of perception on time really just indicates how much this has consumed my life these last few years. I also haven't really had much else to fill my life during that time. What other life events have punctuated the last 4 years? I got a dog with massive behavioral problems, so that was new... but I lived in the same house, at the same address, doing the same job for 3 of those years. It's only this last year, starting school and traveling so much that there has really been anything note-worthy happening in my life. Even the dog I got just a couple of months after exposing Matt, so his addition to my life wasn't really a huge separate event.

On my anniversary this year, I was shooting a wedding in Virgina. It was a good day, and I hardly thought about Matt at all because I was so nervous working. This was my first Deaf wedding and I had absurdly high expectations of myself and felt very insecure about my inability to communicate in a language I felt I should be fluent in. (Deaf Studies was my college minor.) The anxiety over surviving the wedding protected me pretty sufficiently from any upset I would have experienced over the significance of the day.

But of course, the universe couldn't let me get away with just that. (Or maybe *I* couldn't let the occasion pass with just that.)

Yesterday, I suddenly felt overcome with the thought that I needed to write a thank you letter to the woman who revealed to me that Matt was married. She is on my mind on a fairly regular basis because of her job (which is a public sort of thing,) and because she lived in the area I live in now. She's also the only connection I had to the reality that was Matt's real life. She told me EVERYTHING. And she did that with disregard to the consequences she could face by doing so. I have no idea what her experience was like, but my presumption was that the scandal made it's way around the family gossip at some point and she kept quiet about her involvement, even though she basically got a play by play from me of  what happened AS it happened, and then a re-cap afterwards. She and I discussed what I should do the day I went to tell S (wife), and mutually agreed that the only way for S to "hear" me was to tell her in person. This woman provided support via text and email as everything was happening and I have no doubt, prayed for me before, during and afterwards. She also told me that she had almost married the wrong man once and counseled me that the right person was out there for me, and that that person was not Matt. She also said she did not believe Matt was the right person for S either. I agree. She said we both deserved more and again, I agree.

Her words at such a significant moment in my life weighed heavily on me and have continued to.

So yesterday I wrote her a thank you note. I poured out my heart and shared with her the significance of her involvement and support at that time. It was something I felt I needed to do, and at this moment, I am glad I shared those thoughts with her.

That said, I don't know how wise of an idea it was. I haven't heard from this woman in 4 years. I have no idea what she went through on her end after everything blew up. I have no idea if Matt and S ever found out she was the one who ratted him out. I have no idea what consequences she may have endured. I also have no idea if she knows about the law suit, or what her thoughts or feelings would have been on that. I hope, above all else, receiving my note was not upsetting to her.

And hopefully nobody like, takes out a restraining order against me either. Considering that's probably what I would do, if she never responds I'll consider myself lucky.

Progress Report on my Mental Health

I was in class on Thursday and was suddenly hit with this wave of recognition of how far I've come. Granted, it's taken 3.5 years to get this far, but as I stood there, I couldn't help but reflect, and then become teary eyed, over how far I'd come.

In the Fall of 2011 I registered for an introductory German language course at the local community college. It had been a year since I had found out about Matt, and ended our relationship, and I had been hidden away in my house pretty much that entire year. I had done little, and gone very few places in that time, and was lonely and trying really hard to move on. (Which of course is never a good mindset- moving on happens when you don't notice it.. You can't make it happen, it just happens.)

While I was excited to register for the course, I was also terrified of what I would find in the classroom. I was absolutely terrified of men and had panic attacks regularly, despite being in therapy, and on anti-anxiety medication. I could not go to the grocery store without being wracked with fear.

I scheduled an appointment to meet with the professor ahead of time to see if something could be worked out. From the moment I sat down with her, I began to shake and cry. I was terribly embarrassed that I couldn't control myself, but she was so incredibly kind, and so soft and gentle with me. She said she would do whatever she could to help me stay in that class and survive the semester. She gave me permission to leave the room at any time I felt uncomfortable and assigned seats in the room so I would be surrounded by women, and so I would only be ever paired with women. I was still terrified, but her accommodations allowed me to stay in the course.

It started out an almost daily occurrence- rushing into the hallway to hyperventilate and sob  everytime we did a group activity, or a socializing activity. We were supposed to talk to other students in class, fill out a form by asking questions auf Deustch (eg: Are you wearing blue socks? Is your favorite color green?, etc.) I stayed in my seat because I was too afraid to get up, and managed to ask two or three questions of those girls sitting around me before a 17 year old accelerated high school student strolled up and tried to ask me a question. He was such a sweet kid, and so young, but I couldn't help myself and I ran out of the room crying. I sat on the toilet in the women's room for the rest of class, trying to calm myself down. He hadn't even asked me the question. He just got too close to my desk and I was physically unable to handle the stress. It was awful.

Over time though, the class got better, and I tolerated more and more, and ran out of the room less; but I never would have been able to be in that room had I not had such a caring, sensitive teacher. She truly made a huge impact on my life. She even wrote my recommendation letter for graduate school. She was amazing.

The next term I couldn't take another class with her and ultimately withdrew from the other teacher's course because she simply could not cater to my needs the way the first teacher had. (On the second day of class she paired me with a man for a partner- even though I had spoken to her about my problems. I tried to calm my panic attack as I stood out in the hall, some kid shoved a flyer in my face [while I was sobbing and hyperventilating] and then laughed at me and shouted down the hallway that I was high on drugs and "tripping." I couldn't take it, and never went back.)

Thinking about where I was... Standing in class on Thursday, our professor had us stand in a circle, close together, and play a game. My heart raced in my chest, and my sweat soaked the underarms of my blouse, but I stood there. I tolerated it. I even forced myself to join in (I may have let loose a curse word) when I was picked at one point. But I participated. Our class is half men. I sit with them all the time. Every day of the week I see them, I stand with them, and talk to them. I even see them out of class from time to time.

Things sure are different around here.

One of my closest friends at school is a man. He is the nicest, sweetest man I have known in a long time. He is the first man I have met since Matt that I truly feel safe with. He will not hurt me- in fact, he would do whatever he could to protect me. He is gentle and soft spoken and so fun to talk to.

He's a little younger than me, and his girlfriend is much younger than him as well- and lives a dozen states away from here. But he is always caring, considerate and kind- just to everyone, and the more I notice it, the more some part of me gives a sigh of relief.

We went out last night and he and I, for some reason we can just talk for hours. I have one other male friend that I have had that kind of chemistry with, but it's not something that comes around often for me. I don't have male friends. We don't connect like that. But for these two people, it's just there. We talk, we listen, it works. The first time this friend of mine and I went out alone, we sat and talked for five hours straight. Just straight through. It was amazing. (It may very well be because he gossips like a teenage girl!)

Anyway, he walked me to my car last night- which gave me pause to begin with. I was in this restaurant with 7 or 8 other people, and I was the only woman who had come alone and no one offered to walk me. I didn't expect it, it just struck me. Without hesitation he was concerned with my safety and wanted to make sure I both got in my car and that it started and that I actually got on my way. Other than my experiences leaving the dog park late at night, no one has ever really done this for me. It may seem like common courtesy, but to me, it was impressive. I wanted to hug him just for offering. It was just... kind. I need "kind," from men, in my life. I need that.

Of course when we got to my car, we stood there, in the freezing cold, talking until 2 in the morning. That's just how we are. Someone at school called us "kindred spirits," which of course I loved for the Anne of Green Gables reference, but really, this probably has more to do with, again, his ability to gossip like a girl! (And we all know I'm great with that!)

While we were chatting, we talked about a classmate of ours who had had a hard day (there was actually a huge incident in class on Thursday during an activity in which three people got into it) and ended up rushing out of class (sounds familiar) and having a panic attack so severe he ended up laying on the floor of the men's room for more than half an hour trying to calm down. My friend, who doesn't know this student all that well, slipped out, found him and sat with them that entire time until he got a handle on himself. I couldn't believe that either. I had gone and sat with another student involved and talked to him to calm him down as well. As far as I know, we were the only two people in our entire cohort that did that. As we talked about it on the side of the road in the middle of the night, we each confided our mutual fears about the mental stability of one of the people involved- we feared he would hurt himself-. We both just "knew," and.. I don't know how to describe that. Seeing sensitivity in a man after all I have been through, and have had done to me by not just Matt, but other terrible people on this planet.- seeing someone be aware and tuned in, and to actually care- it meant something to me. Again, I was just impressed.

At some point the conversation turned to more cheerful matters, and this friend of mine just started spontaneously telling me, unprompted, that he knew the right man was out there for me. That he knew it. He had no doubts, and that that person is going to spring up and surprise me when I least expect it. When I stop looking, I'll just turn a corner and there he will be. He said this a few times, and I laughed, the first few times he said, but then I really started to think about it.

I started to think of that Stephanie Nielson quote that I so loved, " .. but then it was followed by a beautiful spiritual confirmation that this is my new life. It is good. It is oh-so-good."

The only way for me to describe this moment was as a spiritual confirmation that this friend was placed into my life on purpose. He is meant to be my friend, and to show me what men can be like. That they are not all bad. That they will not all hit you, scream at you, be unfaithful to you or force themselves upon you. They will not hold you down and put handcuffs on your wrists while you scream out, scared. They will not all leave bruises on your body and scars on your heart. Some men, like this man, drive through snowstorms to pick their neighbors up at the airport, and babysit three month old babies for no reason other than someone needed help. They will walk you to your car in the cold in the middle of the night, and check in to make sure you made it home safely. They will lay on the floor with you when you are scared and alone and make sure they've done everything they can to help you feel otherwise. They will give you hugs that don't make your skin crawl, but really make you feel happy and safe.

There are apparently people like this on this planet, as difficult as it is for me to believe. I think this was a lesson I had to re-learn because I have been taught precisely the opposite so many times up until now, and I know for sure that I will need this lesson again. He is here to show me that not everyone is bad. That there are safe, kind, good people out there. That you can have friends of the opposite sex and not worry that they will be inappropriate with you, or take advantage of you. That there are other people with the same morals and standards and intuitions as you have. Those people exist.

 I know this friend was sent to me. I don't know how long we will be friends, or even how good of friends we are now. But I know that just by watching this person exist, by demonstrating who he is as a human being, simply by existing, I am beginning to get back something that I lost along the way.

Trust.

On the Subject of Forgiveness

School has started, and our first official assignment in our Philosophy of Conflict class was to write a reflective paper which addressed a scenario which we found "unworthy" of forgiveness. In class we explored how different cultures, backgrounds, environments, family styles, etc.,  define forgiveness.

We went through a few graphs and charts and our professor summarized two main beliefs in relation to Forgiveness:

1.) Those that believe forgiveness has to do with what's best for the community, ie, not letting a rapist out on the street. This is unconditional forgiveness. No matter what you did in the past, if you screw up again in the future, it doesn't matter. That past incident doesn't count.

2.) Those that forgive for their own relief, to relieve themselves of a burden. ie, the person still did something bad but "holding on" to that anger isn't helpful to the individual person. This type of forgiveness is usually considered "conditional" because the person can't make that mistake again or you'll "remember" the past error.

**And just as a clause, in general: One person's beliefs aren't better or worse than anothers. That's not what I'm saying in any way. The assignment was to define it FOR MYSELF ONLY, and provide an example. If you believe the exact opposite, that's totally peachy. This just totally explained to me why I couldn't forgive when people asked me to.***

This is super over simplifying it, but I don't have my notes and this post is going to be super long.

I had these HUGE ah-ha moments in class when I realized what forgiveness meant to me and why in my scenario with Matt I just couldn't do it.

I define forgiveness as absolution, erasing the past- saying it didn't matter. Let's move on and forget about it. But that definition minimizes the experience of the victim. There is no validation for the person who was hurt. The actions do not matter. (That's what it means and communicates to me and what I am expressing TO YOU if I am forgiving you. What you didn't matter, we are all cool. Never happened.)

The other side of this is apparently a European based, individualistic approach to forgiveness which is more along the lines of "forgive, but never forget."  Something like that. It all varies depending on each person's background, cultural influences, etc.

Our professor did not grade us with letter grades since this was a reflective paper, and he didn't want us to feel he was judging our experiences. So the possible "grades" were: Excellent, Very good, Good, and Ok. Only three people got "Excellent"'s and I was one of them. He also wrote in his comments that mine was the best he'd read so far. (My dad queried- so yours was the first he read?)

I'm pasting the entire paper in here- it's about 6 pages. (So beware). It was so healing and cathartic however I wanted to include it.

Some notes- he specifically asked us to make "I" statements and to write in a narrative style. He said he was only interested in quotes and such so far as they supplemented our own thoughts. No footnotes allowed, and no citations.  No introductory paragraph or conclusionary paragraph necessary in the formal sense.

Off we go!

 

Assignment 1:  Worthy of Forgiveness

 

            Departing class on the second day of lecture, I overheard Professor Ryan remark that betrayal is the most difficult  type of act to inspire forgiveness. Betrayal is usually tied in with trust, and when we lose trust in a person or relationship, we may sometimes find that we lose that trust and self-assuredness in ourselves. Based on my own experiences, which have shaped my outlook and thoughts on the matter, I agree wholeheartedly that betrayal is an incredibly difficult violation to forgive, and for me personally, I have found it to have nearly eliminated my ability to even consider forgiveness.  While in meaning, forgiveness may seem to be a universally understood concept, it is in truth very personally defined and I have found my own perspective to be quite different from those within my network of family and friends, which created conflict when I was confronted with my own experience with betrayal and my attempts to grow beyond it.

            In August of 2010 I found myself happily planning my wedding to a delightful police officer whom I had been in a relationship with for the preceding eighteen months. Our relationship was fun, loving, emotionally fulfilling  and the best that I had ever experienced. I was completely confident in our commitment and dedication to each other and that we would enjoy a lifetime together as we planned our marriage.  

            It was at this time I discovered that my partner was living a dual identity, using a false name and had an entire family I knew nothing about. He had gone so far as to steal the name tag of another police officer he worked with and had been using that officer's name and identity in our relationship. The name I knew him as was not his real name. He lied about his education, the school he attended, his job, his relationship history, his parental status, his marital status, his family's names and much more.  There was even a possibility of other identities and that the man in fact may have been a pedophile. The moment of revelation was both dramatic and violent. The depth of this betrayal and the resulting grief was deep and has taken a significant period of time to process. Part of that process is understanding my own thoughts and feelings about a number of issues, including forgiveness.

            During my recovery period I was urged many times by friends to "forgive" my offender so that I could "move on." I had no desire to "move on," and preferred to dwell in my thoughts; trying to process the violations I had experienced. His betrayal of our relationship, his infidelity, his betrayal of his marriage to his true wife, his betrayal to his child, all struck and confused me. I did not understand his motives or his choices in achieving his desires.  Being asked to forgive such high violations against a human being felt muffling to my experience. That I should sit down and be silent at a time I wanted to scream almost seemed to re-victimize me. Those that asked me so many times to "let go," "make peace," and "move on," became offenders themselves for even asking me to forgive. Before I could even consider forgiveness, I needed to first try to understand. But understanding violations of trust that significant proved impossible and I found myself stuck in my grief and confusion. Again I was urged by friends to forgive the man for what he had done to me, that this would release me from my pain.

            "Forgiveness" is a loaded word and is defined in different ways by different people who are each shaped by their own life experiences and cultural influences. Oprah Winfrey has molded an entire generation's perspective of forgiveness by speaking highly and loudly of how it is something one does for themselves, and not for the offender. That the act of forgiveness releases the victim from their burden.  Forgiveness is for ourselves, for our individual relief, and frees us from the shame we experience by carrying that burden.  It was from this point of view that my friends urged me to forgive. Forgiveness would make my burden light.

            For me, this is not how I feel at all about forgiveness, and the pressure to forgive felt almost violating. I felt that being asked to forgive this person who had committed these atrocious acts against me was wrong in and of itself. Being made to feel as if I was doing something wrong, that I myself was in the wrong because I refused or was simply unable to forgive left me with a feeling of brokenness and blame.  This was my fault that I felt this way. From religious friends, I was even told that refusing to forgive my offender was rejecting Christ's atonement for us, and turning my back on God. They attempted to reassure my hesitations by saying that if I forgave him, God would surely see to a proper judgment for the man and I need not concern myself with it. But these were not my beliefs, but theirs.

            In the essay responses to The Sunflower, author Mary Gordon writes that perhaps the SS man thought that "forgiveness was a kind of magic eraser, a way of undoing what cannot temporally be undone, a way of saying, 'it never happened.'" These thoughts and beliefs are how I personally define forgiveness. To me, offering forgiveness to someone is offering a type of absolution, a wiping clean of the slate and starting fresh and anew with no murky past to muddy the future. In this instance, to erase the events of the past would dishonor my experience and this is why offering forgiveness was such a tremendous burden for those seemingly helpful friends to place on me. It did not make my burden light to consider offering a personal absolution to the man. It invalidated and minimized my experience.  The weight of the social obligation to forgive was overwhelming.  Betrayal and physical violence are not simple concepts to understand and offering absolution to a violator whom seemingly feels no remorse is absurd and provides no benefit to me as a victim whatsoever.

            What I find to be most important as we seek to restore the balance after surviving these violations others inflict on us, whether that be intentional or unintentional, is the opportunity for the victim to be heard. They, and I, need our words to be listened to, processed and acknowledged. Gordon continues in her response essay, " it becomes, then, a narcissistic... act because it places the perpetrator's need to be purged of guilt ahead of the victim's need for restitution or simple recognition of having been harmed." Despite his wife's screaming demands, I was never granted an apology for my offender's actions, nor was I offered recognition of my injuries by my offender.  Even if I had, given the volume and seriousness of the offenses, I don't know that I would have believed the sincerity of any attempts at reconciliation or an apology. Such deliberate, conscience violations against another human being are truly unforgivable to me. In addition, an individual whom lied about something so basic as his name and the college he attended could easily force an apology with no understanding of the depth of damage he had done and the apology would hold no weight. There is nothing to forgive in these instances- the acts are simply unforgivable.

            In all of my self-reflection I finally came to the conclusion that I did not need to concern myself with forgiving my offender.  What I needed to focus on was forgiving myself. While I could not grant my offender absolution, because I did not feel he deserved it, I did feel that my lack of trust in myself was unfair, and my doubt misplaced. What happened was not my fault, but it was up to me to finally face those dreaded words and "move on" from the experience and attempt to depart from my dwelling-place. 

            There were a few actions I did feel that would help rectify my faith in myself and allow me to find a place in the world again. I filed complaints with the proper authorities and sought about seeking to create a public record of the events. As Gordon wrote, "one can forgive another in a ritual context, if that ritual takes place with the authority of the community."  While I was not seeking to forgive my offender, I believed such a ritual would be both therapeutic, and among other things, provide the benefit of assisting to restore my own inner faith and confidence. For me, I found ritual in notifying the proper authorities, and by pursuing legal action. The process of filing briefs and preparing for court was comforting. While the experience was terrifying and produced high levels of anxiety, it also provided a clear path to resolution, one way or another. While I knew that the likelihood of sustaining a financial judgment from the courts was slim, that was not my motivation in pursuing litigation. My motivation was simply to have my offender, and a person of authority, ideally a judge, hear my words and respect them. I wanted to be able to speak, uninterrupted, in public, of the torts that had been committed against me.

            I worked hard to make it happen and one day last winter I stood in a very small courtroom in my offender's home town and read from a prepared statement detailing the lies I had so readily believed, the revelations of truth, and the physical violence I both endured and witnessed.  I spoke of how he had abused his authority by staking out a hidden location along a highway and pulled me over without cause. I spoke of how he tackled and handcuffed me in my home and refused to free me. I spoke of the emotional ramifications of his manipulations and lies. The room was silent and my offender was made to stand and listen to me speak for twenty minutes of the effects his actions had had on me. I was emotional, but finally, over two years after the incidents had occurred my experience was finally recognized in a public arena, in a community where we both lived.

            I wished that I could have walked away from the experience right there, and deprived him of the ability to respond. I did not need to hear what he had to say, I feared it really because I did not know what was coming. Again, Gordon shares her view that anything less than a public acknowledgment of guilt would be a perversion of the sacrament. There was nothing I gained for my own self-growth by listening to my offender speak, other than his acknowledgment that some of the incidents I described had occurred; statements which I had not expected to be validated, but as I listened to him lying under oath and unable to prove otherwise I simply tried to release myself from the shock and awe. Nothing mattered more than my own words being heard by the people around me. Regardless of the result of the hearing, I took my power back by having my offenses acknowledged in a court of law and subjecting my offender to a public airing of his actions. That day I emerged from the courthouse, I emerged victorious at last.

            My promptings to take this course of action and in denying forgiveness  (sought or not) were led by my desire to heal from the experience. Determining that my offender was unworthy of forgiveness validated the depth of my emotional  trauma. Had I been able to forgive him, there was an internal presumption on my own part that his offenses would be mitigated in seriousness. To forgive such atrocities, to grant what I perceive to be absolution to this man grants him permission to move on as though he had never committed any wrongs. That was not what I wanted and not what would be most helpful for me as I healed. For me, I dreamed that he would be able to ruminate and dwell on his horrific actions as I had done. Once again, we turn to Gordon as she expresses this same idea; "If the dying Nazi solider wished to atone, he should have insisted that he be placed in the camps, so that he could die in the miserable circumstances of those in whose name he is asking forgiveness." To truly atone, our violators must experience what we experienced; they must be willing to put themselves into our shoes and feel what we have felt. If they are unwilling to do that, absolution will never come.

Promise of the Somewhere Between

And just like that, sometimes your heart is just relieved of all of the anxieties and worries you've placed under it.

Just like that.



Although I've never been "opposed" to adoption, and I 100% believe in it and think it's a beautiful thing, IUI's and IVF and the good old fashioned way of making babies are a whole lot cheaper options, and that had always kind of been my plan. But post-last-days-of-being-29-heart-attack-freak-out, I stumbled into this documentary, and just watching the preview alone? I felt this sudden sense of peace and calm. And I got that just off the preview.

A lot of you who know me in real life probably don't know this, but my family kind of looks like the United Colors of Benetton. My sister's kids are Mexican, my cousin's on my mom's side are black, and my dad's family is Chinese. I just never think about it. It just is.

My aunt's second husband immigrated from China in the late 50's or maybe early 60's with a little boy. (The mother abandoned them or something. The story has always been somewhat unclear.) My aunt adopted and raised him and she and the husband had several children together as well. The oldest son who came from China is my cousin, he calls my aunt his mom, and he just IS my cousin. I never think about the fact he's not biologically related to anyone. I don't actually have any memories of meeting his dad at all and they have been divorced for 20+ years. It probably occurs to me about once every 10 years that technically, we're not actually related, and usually I remember this when I start to make a comment about how alike we are and it must be our genes. Erm.

He married a Chinese woman (pretty sure from China) and they have three children together.  My other [Chinese] cousins also all have [interracial Chinese] children. They all had red egg parties and did all of the usual cultural stuff. Mixed with you know, German traditions. The oldest son's wife used to pick all the honey off our honey baked ham every year, which always pissed off my aunt, and always made off with the expensive $4 cookies my dad would bring from the pricey bakery, which annoyed him. All in all we're a great big happy Chinese-German-Mexican-Afghani (cousin's husband) family.

Anyway. I watched this preview, just the preview alone and I just exhaled this huge sigh of relief. All of that pressure just blew out of me. I don't know why. I've never really felt strongly about adoption, and I can't really say that I do now either, but I feel like I was spiritually (and quite condescendingly I might add) patted on the head and told "It's going to be just fine. There's a whole plan in play no matter which route you go here. Whichever way you go, it is TOTALLY cool. Go on little grasshopper. Take your time. [pat, pat.]"

L o n g,    s l o w    e x h a l e.

I looked all over the internet to find a free copy of the film and I found TONS but all required I download an extra media thing to watch it, and I was spooked since I've had such had luck with this computer that I'm afraid to download any software on to this computer, so it took me 24 hours to commit since I'm having such financial issues, but as a sort of birthday gift, I spent $2.99 and rented the movie on Amazon. It's wonderful. It's called "Somewhere Between," and if they make it free on Prime I'm going to be pissed.

But right now I'm just so grateful I got to watch it because it was beautiful. I'm also, once again grateful for Sex and the City, my favorite show ever, and Charlotte, who adopted a Mandarin baby herself in the series finale. (With her Jewish husband after discovering she was barren with her Scottish 1st husband, who refused to explore adoption or fertility treatments with her.)  As Charlotte said after she and Harry had been disappointed once again in their journey to try and grow their family together (failed placement- yes, they showed a failed adoption placement on a show called "Sex and the City" for those of you spooked by the title) she smiles, kisses him on his cute balding forehead and says, "Honey, that wasn't our baby. Our baby is still coming. "

I've re-quoted that a million times to friends who were trying to conceive, and wiped tears from girlfriends eyes after negative pregnancy tests and chemical pregnancies and lost babies.

That wasn't the baby you were going to get to raise. Your baby is still coming.

My baby is still coming too.



This post was sickeningly positive, and in order to even the score, I'd like to say that someone said something nasty to me about my relationship with Matt that pissed me off. So there. (sticks tongue out.) It all evens out. I'm still glass half empty after all!

I WON!

Okay, so not literally. :) More in a spiritual sense.

I went into this lawsuit with the goals of taking back my power, confronting my abuser, creating a public record, speaking articulately and clearly and I did all of that. I won the day I testified, despite the hiccups. No matter what, he still got his a** dragged into court to explain why he did what he did. TRUE. He may have lied under oath, and perjured himself, and he may be a pedophile, but he has at least experienced some annoyances for the things he has done and not completely gotten away with it. He should be relieved I did not return Judge Judy's bajillion phone calls.

Early last week I called the court to check in because it was 8 weeks last Thursday since I testified and we were supposed to hear after about 3-4 weeks. I left a message for the clerk and told her to please not tell me the result in any messages, but please give me an update. She called back and said that the other clerk was typing it up at that moment and it would go out in the mail that day.

As I do in any moment of crisis, I ran right out and did something drastic to my hair. Since I had just dyed it the week before, I chopped it off and got bangs.

 

I was going for Zooey DesChanel... I felt more like Miss Frummpy, and then a little bit like Samantha Parkington, and then I had a good hair day, and then blah... I'm working on my bang skills.

 

The letter came sometime at the end of the week and I got my hands on it Saturday. I wanted to do something symbolic because I have been wanting to do anything symbolic this whole time. With past therapists we've discussed funerals, balloon releases, letter writing (I've done that many times), burning stuff, plate smashing... But nothing ever happened, or the things that I did do weren't satisfying.  This time I needed something to close the circle. I kidded at first, but it was important. I tried to coordinate a large group, but with so many different schedules it was too hard, and while at one point it could have been like 10 or more people standing out in a field with me and 10+ people on the phone lines there ended up being just four of us, two in person, two on the phone.

 

My friend Angie and I drove out to a friend a few minutes from my house where I have done some work stuff and I set up my little fruit crate I use for baby shoots.

 

 

 

The letter from the court, matches, and THE picture I carried into the house that day and handed to Matt's wife. After she finished shoving it into his face and screaming at him, she handed it back to me, saying she "didn't want it" and I said I didn't want it either, and folded it into fourth's, stuffing it in my pocket. When I got home I threw it on my piano and it's sat there ever since, save for a couple trips to therapy.

 

We called the long distance people on the phone and got started.

 

 

I had played with this idea of burning the picture of Matt and I, or burning Matt's face off and burying me. I repeated this idea to a few friends, but they screeched at me, "DONT BURY YOURSELF!!!!" And I said, "No, no, it's not a bad thing, it's a good thing, there's some metaphor here I can't quite articulate yet, but I know there's something there..." I tried for a whole "rise from the ashes" like Stefano from Days of our Lives, but nobody seemed to believe me. Hmmmmm.

Anyway, so on the way there I was just STRUCK(Or as the Mormons tell me "prompted"- Would that fall under the same usage of the term? I understand the general usage as "guidance," but just wondering if this is the same. Anyway...)

Sometime last spring my friend Nicole was prompted to send me a care package. The idea just occurred to her and she felt I needed it. She sent me some treats and this talk from the LDS General Conference about Forget Me Nots. She included a copy of the talk, and a pretty copy of a quote from the talk, and a package of seeds. From the talk:

You must be compassionate and patient with yourself. 
The people you think are perfect are NOT. (The crowd laughs. lol This is an important point to note for ME given my constant comparisons to the life I believed I was missing out on.)

Some sacrifices are better than others.

Be happy now.

You are loved.
Do not abandon hope.

 

You may at times feel a little like the forget-me-not—insignificant, small, or tiny in comparison with others. I hope (the forget-me-not) will be a symbol of the little things that make your lives joyful and sweet.”

 

Elder Uchtdorf

 

You can watch the talk here as well:

I appreciated the gift at the time (Okay I totally bawled to just be remembered, and it just felt so poignant how forgotten and unimportant I am to my own family and how welcomed I have been by my Utah "family."

But I didn't really get it, until this moment.

I was driving, and this moment, driving to this field, trying to process what was going on, and trying to figure out the burying my picture in this field thing and then I just GOT IT.

I wasn't BURYING myself.

I was PLANTING myself.

I was the forget me not.

I was going to take this picture.

Sever this evil part of my life from me ever more.

And plant this old part of me in the earth to grow into something new.

Because I don't want to be that person anymore.

I miss her, and I don't blame her. It wasn't her fault. She didn't see this coming. She was an innocent.

But I don't ever want to be there again.

So, I would plant her, and let her grow. And she won't be forgotten. But she will grow into something new and beautiful and wonderful.

I got it.

Took me awhile, but I'm slow. Thank you Nicole. I got it.

I talked about the Forget me nots with everyone who was there and on the phone, and then Maren prayed. She prayed for me, and the situation and most importantly she prayed for Sydney and the children. I had felt okay until this point but then I cried. I feel terrible for them. They are trapped. They will probably always be trapped. And they have nothing but my sympathy. They deserve so much more and they don't even know it. Maren called him evil and I had never thought about that like that, but she is right. He is. He is an evil person. You can't fix that. They deserve so much more. I cried for her. Not for me, but for her.

I felt for the longest time that I was robbed of my life. I lost my partner, my home, my children, my entire life.

No.

I got my life back.

I am going to go to graduate school. (Knock on wood.) I am going to move to a new place and start a new life, a new, exciting one. I will meet new people, travel and do exciting things. I will be educated and do fun things.

She will remain trapped. Even he- he has maintained the status quo. Yes, he has a high income, but what is the quality of life in a home filled with violence, hate and lies?

I did not lose my life. They chose to destroy theirs. I am creating a better one.

(That would be me setting his picture on fire, shredding the remnants and burying the remnants in horse shit).

We opened it. I won. No money. That's fine. I knew I wasn't likely to win anyway. I believed in my case, but my lawyer prepped me it was unlikely. And that wasn't my goal. I wanted to protected his victims. I am happy. My dream was to be free. I feel free. If I had received a judgment, we would have been dragged back to court for months for appeals. That's not free.

I am happy.

...Off to plant myself ...

"No matter how dark your days may seem. No matter how insignificant you may feel.... No matter how overshadowed you may think you may be. You have not been forgotten.... You are  loved with an infinite love."

<

Dr. Phil Episode

So this Dr. Phil episode is cool for a couple of reasons. This episode is about a guy who cheated on his wife with somewhere between 1-5 nannies. (Up for debate.) I recognized a chick from the dog park in the audience, which is hilarious, since it tapes in LA. The guy is fascinating to me because he is attractive and charming and smiles when he lies and just reminds me SO MUCH of Matt. He also works in either law enforcement or is a firefighter. At first they said he was a firefighter, but then reference him being an L.E.O., so I'm unsure. He's totally disgusting. The stuff he did to the nanny is gross, and who knows what the real story is, but it doesn't really matter, the psychology between him and Matt is the same.

Dr. Phil describes him as: "selfish, didn't care what anybody thought, it was just all about you."

Dr. Phil: What does your therapist say?
Wife: --This is a pattern.

Dr. Phil: THIS IS A PATTERN! That whenever he gets in a bind, then what is often described as consistent with Sociopathic tendencies, they will SAY anything and DO anything in the moment to get back in YOUR good graces. They don't feed bad about what they did, they FEEL BAD THEY GOT CAUGHT. Like I found God. Or I need your help.


Skip to around 56:45 to hear the part I am referencing, but I enjoyed the whole show. Listening to him lie is fascinating.

No, there is no news or updates about the case. It was 7 weeks on Thursday.  I was supposed to hear after 3-4. I gotta call the court and find out what's going on next week.

Honestly, I am feeling so much better. Each day this weight comes off more and more. I feel so much more free. Testifying, turning him in on the possible pedophilia, I just... It was so the right thing. I did what I was supposed to do, and while I will always wish with all my heart that I could pull Sydney and those kids out of this, I can't. My heart will ache for them forever and I hope they can escape that hell some day. I want to get out, and go out and be in public and be social again. I really do. It is very difficult, but I really do. I am back on the anti-anxiety medication, but it is working well and I feel pretty good. I feel fat, granted, but I feel pretty good.

An Unfortunate Discovery

About 10 days after the hearing I was reading an article in Glamour Magazine about love scams/online romance scams. Mostly the article was about people who stole innocent people's pictures and used them on dating profiles, then started an intense relationship with someone online, and then somehow got them to give them money.

This isn't exactly what happened with Matt, but it's similar. Same ballpark.

The article mentioned two support websites to turn to for help if you had been a victim. You could get info on how to spot another scam, and how to have a healthy relationship post-scam, and even look and see if someone you were suspicious about had been previously reported as running scams. It even had a little database searcher.

I wasn't going to look at it, I was just laying in bed trying to sleep. And then suddenly I was overwhelmed.

"Get up and look. You'll find it. He's on there."

And I thought... you are such a paranoid retarded freak. SHUT UP.

"He's on there. Go and look. You have to get up. Get UP."

I swear I slapped both of my hands across my face and groaned and swore but I got up. It was like 2am and I was tired.

I plugged his info into the websites. Nothing came up. (See, Emily, I knew you were a paranoid, retarded freak). But then I saw this other search result. It apparently scans the web for people with that user id.

HELLO VOMITING PILE OF SEARCH RESULTS.

Matt is using a third identity and is claiming to be 18 years old in one, and 25 in another. (He's in his early 30's.)  He also still has an active account with the name I knew him as. All associated with that email he used when we were together.

I was alarmed and freaked out and didn't know how to handle the information. People have been telling me for two years I wasn't the only one he ever did it to, but I never really believed them. (I honestly still think I hallucinated our whole relationship most of the time. It's just too bizarre and insane).

Can you think of  a single, legitimate, above board reason why a 33 year old man would be pretending to be 18?

Let's say he hasn't used this in 3 years. Let's say he stopped after the incident with me.

THAT JUST MEANS HE WAS IMPERSONATING A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD, PEOPLE.

These profiles age with the user. That just makes it WORSE.

I posted on Facebook, with my intent to just be, how the heck do I process this information? But I got this overwhelming response of "leave it alone, move on," blah blah blah. All of which was supremely unhelpful  and minimizing of the situation.

Please. Sit down. Think about this. Nice old grandpa who lives next door likes to watch your daughter after school. He's sweet, friendly, Grandma is nice. No problem. Your daughter starts coming home with bruises all over her thighs and is acting secretive.

DO YOU JUST LET THAT GO???

I was not posting on Facebook to request what course of action I should take. I posted for support. I got judgment. As my therapist said, that didn't really help me. It really just pissed me off. And I had posted in a panic at 3am, so way too many people say the post, people who don't even know my situation so I just deleted it.

And then I sat and stewed, as I often do.

I was assaulted as a child.  I would not wish that on anyone. I believe in the laws of this country. I believe in the quote, "If you remain silent in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor." No one spoke up for me when I was a child and was hurt by a bad, bad man. Who is going to speak up now, if not me? What if no one else even knows?

What's one reason why a married 33 year old would be pretending to be 18?

One. Name one legit reason.

There isn't one.

Months ago I posted about how I started shrieking at the computer "HE'S AN ONLINE PREDATOR!" because I came to suspect he met his wife online as well. Well, I'm genuinely suspicious he is. And you want me to turn a blind eye? I freaking think not. Like I could LIVE with myself if he was corresponding with underage girls or boys. I don't even want to think about that. It's a crime. 

Of course, even if it's true, I don't think I could ever believe it, or really acknowledge it in my heart or soul because when I look at him, I see the man he pretended to be. I don't know if I'll ever make that separation. It is very hard to accept the love of your life (to this point in my life) was a fictional character.  I understand his wife to a greater extent than I did. She lives in the land of denial. How could she do anything else? How do you admit you're married to a monster? She has kids. She's surviving. She's also crazy, but I pity her. I wish I could shake her and say, "Don't you know what you're worth?! Don't you know that God loves you? Heavenly Father wants more for you than this! He wants more for your children! Don't you know you're loved?!"

And I don't even believe in God half the time. (But she does and it's a medium she'd relate to.)

(I try, it's a struggle. I'm super analytical. But I recognize religious beliefs provide personal enrichment, so I try.)

So, after stewing a little while longer, I called the Internal Affairs bureau of the CHP.  And I simply asked them, "What should I do?" (BTW, totally did not spazz out on the phone this time talking to the officer. yay me!)

They told me to file a Citizen's Complaint. They said it was the prudent, appropriate thing to do. I clarified about five times.

Then I sat on it for the last couple of weeks. I still didn't really want to do it.

I went to therapy and talked about it, and as I talked about all of my apprehensions, I said, "I just don't know what the right thing to do is." Then I interrupted myself and said, "Of course I do. The right thing to do is to file the complaint. They can't do anything if no one tells them."

This is the right thing to do. I know this is true. I know this is right.

So I wrote it, and then sat on it some more.

Today I went and printed it out, but before I did that, I emailed the investigator who handled the original complaint:

Dear Sgt.

 

You were the investigator on a Citizen's Complaint I filed in June 2011 regarding Matthew L-----------'s use of the identity "Matt T-----." It recently came to my attention that Officer L-------- is using a third identity and is posing as an 18 year old on a social media website. I am very uncomfortable with this information and really want no part of another complaint, but when I called IA downtown and asked them what the right thing to do was, they said I should file another Citizen's Complaint.  I just wanted to ask if you agree with that or have different advice. I am still terrified of L------ and I'm concerned he'd try to claim I was harassing him or something if I filed a second complaint. (That whole bit on the form about the officer being entitled to file civil action is very disconcerting.) But my concern that he may be corresponding with minors, or that he's possibly some kind of an online predator scares me even more. I'm just not sure what to do.

Emily

 

And he responded:

 

Miss -----,

 

It disappoints me greatly to hear these allegations.  Our Internal Affairs Office was correct in directing toward filing another complaint.  Please do not let the required legal wording, located on our form, dissuade you from filing a justified complaint.  Your allegations have many ramifications and if true need to be dealt with.  I have made our Woodland Area's Acting Commander, ----------, aware of your contact and noted concerns.  I will be forwarding your original e-mail (below) to the Woodland Area so they may have it for any possible subsequent file.  If you do not hear from the Woodland Area in the very near future please feel free to contact them directly through the information provided below.

 

Sgt.

 

 

So, with a lot of apprehension, I mailed this yesterday. But the Sgt's comments are re-assuring.

Going to Court, Part 2

Okay, so we left off with me frantically flipping through papers and then not providing everything I had. Hmmmm.

I handed what I thought were all the papers I needed to the bailiff, and he walked them back to Matt and his wife. Who were sitting on the Platintiff's side of the room for some reason. ...He's a cop, he goes to court all the time, and each podium was clearly labeled on each side. ("Plaintiff" on the right, and "Defendant" on the wrong left side.)What is he, slow? Thanks for supporting me and sitting on the Plaintiff's side buddy!

Anyway, he gave him the papers, and they handed the wife's email to me. I only skimmed it to make sure my words hadn't been changed, so it looked okay with this preliminary glance, although it wasn't.

One or two cases went ahead of us, and they were basically time-fillers. both cases were people who only had one party present and needed to reschedule or something. I don't remember.

As soon as we were done playing with the 589,082,749 pages of paperwork we were called up.

I think I said, "Are you freaking KIDDING me?!" I did not want to be first.

Myself, my friend C who served him, my mom, my dad all stood up and were sworn in. On Matt's side, he and his wife were then sworn in.

Then the judge (or referee, he's actually not a judge, but it doesn't really matter) told all of our witnesses to leave. ALL of them. So my parents, C, and his wife didn't hear any of my or Matt's testimony. The only ones who did was my dad's wife, who declined to be sworn in (and wore a face mask, which prompted my friend to ask if she had cancer or something- "What is up with that?!" She had an organ transplant almost 2 years ago and is immune-suppressed so catching a cold could be a huge problem  for her, so she's careful. But I agree she looked like a freak. No judging though, no judging. LOL) My attorney got lost and didn't have her cell, and she made it in about half way through my testimony. She also apparently hopped out in the hall and gave my parents an update, which they all appreciated, and I did too. That was very nice of her and I didn't expect it. I didn't even know she was there though, just my dad's wife, and I was relieved to have not been in there alone.

Anyway, I stood up, walked to the podium with my huge binder, took a huge shaky breath and said, "Good Morning."

Then I started to read this speech. About three sentences in, the Judge interrupted and said he knew I was nervous but he needed me to slow down because he needed to take notes. I took a slower deep breath, repeated my sentence and read the following:

(I would just like to apologize to all of you in advance for not being able to watch this on Judge Judy. I know how you all desperately wished for my moment of reality TV glory. lol)

Good Morning your Honor.

My name is Emily H------ and I was in a relationship with the Defendant from February, 2009 to August 2010.

If you reference the Points & Authorities I filed with my Amended Complaint on October 11th, you can see  my causes of action are Fraud, Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress, Assault, False Imprisonment, Assault, Battery, and Negligent Infliction of Emotional Distress. I have discussed each tort in detail in this document with discussions of my claims.

The Defendant is a California Highway Patrolman, and during our relationship  claimed to work out of the San Francisco and then the Fairfield office of the CHP. During our relationship, he created a false identity for himself, and went by the name Matthew T--------. As a result, I suffered financial damages, which I am suing him for  to restore me to the position I was prior to meeting him.

-Here is our initial point of contact when the Defendant emailed me through an online dating website and identified himself as "Mat in Woodland."
-- If you refer to Attachment ONE in your packet, the first page is an instant messenger conversation  where the Defendant identifies himself as a CHP in San Francisco and that at the time of the conversation, he had been single for 4.5 years. Also attached in Attachment ONE is another instant messenger conversation where he provides his phone number, which is the same number listed in the complaint.
--Here is an email he sent me with the name "Matthew T--------," listed as the sender.
--Here is an instant messenger conversation where he states his name is Matthew T--------.

--If you refer to Page 4 of Attachment FOUR  in your packet, which is the statement written on my behalf by the CHP investigator, the investigating Sergant, W---- C-----, conclusively states that the Defendant, Matthew L-------- and the person I dated, Matthew T-------- are the same person. In Sergant C------'s summary of my statement, he recounts my memory of the Defendant signing credit card receipts under the unauthorized alias, and of meeting the Defendant on-duty, where I clearly recall the Defendant wearing a name tag with the name "T--------" on it. For the record, the Defendant worked at the Fairfield office of the CHP with another officer who was apparently named Matthew T-------- and was likely the source of the Defendant's unauthorized nameplate use. 

I agreed to date the Defendant under the false belief that he was who he claimed to be: A single, never married man named T-------- who very much wanted to get married and have children. In reality he was Matthew L--------, married and with one child already. I looked into the Defendant's background but was unable to find any information which contradicted what he told me. As he was a CHP officer, and I had met with him on-duty, and he presented himself as an honorable, forthright person, I had no reason to suspect otherwise.

 

--Here is a news article I found on a man who was a Officer with the Fairfield Office of the California Highway Patrol. When I asked the Defendant if the man in the article was him, he said yes.

 

On August 3rd, 2010, approximately 17 months into our relationship, I became suspicious that the Defendant had not been honest about something, but I wasn't quite sure what.  He had claimed his father was a superior court judge, but the name he provided for his father was not someone who was listed on the California Bar's website.  I wrote a letter to someone who I believed was a family member of the Defendant's and asked that person if the Defendant had been honest with me. That person, who requested they remain anonymous, informed me that the Defendant's name was not Matthew T--------, but it was actually Matthew L--------, that he had lied about his parent's names, his place of residence, where he attended college, that he had lied and said he was fired from the CHP, but he actually hadn't been, that his house had been foreclosed on and he had moved several hours away, and  that he was married, and had an eighteen month old child, who had been born 10 days before we began dating. I did not know or suspect any of these revelations and the impact was devastating.

--Here is the email exchange between myself and the Defendant's family member. I have redacted the family member's name at their request, but I can provide a clean copy instead if that is necessary.

On the same day I wrote the letter to the family member, I found the address of his actual residence that he shares with his wife and child. The Defendant's wife invited me into her home, and thanked me for being honest with her. She asked me a series of humiliating questions, which I answered as best I could. I was crying, shaking, and near hysterical at points. I was able to tolerate this until the Defendant arrived home, and the two began to rage and scream at each other.  I felt both terrified and threatened as to what would happen and feared I could be hurt. I crouched against a wall, but felt too afraid to just run out.  I knew the Defendant carried a firearm on his person at all times, and given his angry state, I did not know what he was capable of.  I asked the Defendant's wife permission to leave the home, and she consented, however, before I could leave, the Defendant and his wife's confrontation cumulated in the Defendant punching holes in the walls, and smashing a glass framed picture to bits. I ducked to avoid being hit. This is the grounds of my first assault claim.

 

 I then rushed out of the house, asking the Defendant's wife if she was safe or if I could call the police. She declined and began screaming at the Defendant again.

Due to my reliance upon the Defendant's consistent and continual deliberate misrepresentations regarding his identity, I treated him as my partner. We planned to be married, and I had gotten quotes from various wedding vendors prior to my unexpected discovery of his actual identity. Due to my reliance on the Defendant's deceit, I spent an incredible amount of money on the Defendant, with the purchase of gifts, food, gas, scrapbooks, printed photos, christmas gifts, cards, letters, gift cards, and baked goods. I also incurred costs to myself as a result of the fraudulent relationship. At one point the Defendant claimed to have accepted a job as a Special Agent with the federal agency Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, and as a show of my support as his wife to be, I purchased a "I love my Special Agent" tshirt, and an ATF sweatshirt. I also purchased a ring to represent our relationship, my support of his new career, and our impending marriage. Additional costs include two cell phone bills which the Defendant was responsible for and  already offered to pay, but which I declined as I believed our relationship was real,  and with additional incidentals arising from highly expensive gas costs and wear and tear on my vehicle as I traveled at some points, daily, to the Fairfield area to meet with the Defendant.

-If you refer to Attachment TWO in your packet, you can see the summarized total of costs incurred during the relationship.
-If you would like an itemized list, I have one available here as well.  

 

As I have discussed the Defendant is liable for actual fraud against me for these intentional misrepresentations of his identity so that he could incur these monetary and physical benefits.  He also committed the torts of IIED and NIED.

The Defendant was fully aware of his true identity throughout our relationship and that he was living a double life. The Defendant made it a point during our relationship to invent a colorful array of personal tragedies to make our relationship more dramatic and emotionally distressing.  He claimed to have been fired from his job, he claimed his house had been foreclosed on, that his dog died, and his father had a stroke and his mother a nervous breakdown. He did these things so I would become upset, and then feel sympathy for him. The Defendant actually did this so much that I had to seek counseling during our relationship to cope with the things he was telling me.  He purposely and with intent engaged in this outrageous and offensive behavior throughout our relationship in order to cause me emotional distress.  

Arising out of the Fraud and my discovery of his double life a lengthy 17 months into our relationship, I suffered an incredible amount of mental distress. I became agoraphobic, afraid to leave my home, and was admitted into a daily outpatient psychiatric care facility to deal with the shock. I was unable to eat, bathe or get out of bed unless absolutely required. I became terrified of men, sirens, uniforms and police. I suffered hyperventilating panic attacks in grocery stores, at work,  in restaurants, and airports. After being pulled over by another CHP officer, I became so terrified and inconsolable, the officer insisted on calling an ambulance, which I had to refuse because I knew I would be more disturbed by the presence of more men in uniforms. Thinking I had seen the Defendant on the street the week of my discovery, I got into a car accident, and then spent an hour on the side of the rode hysterically crying while the driver of the other car tried to assure me that what the Defendant did was not my fault and that I would get better.  The next day, due to a fear for my safety because I was so afraid of the Defendant, I stayed with a friend, and was so upset and distracted, broke my foot.  Over the last 28 months, I have attended at least twice weekly therapy, and have been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Major Depression and Anxiety and Panic Disorder as a direct result of the defendant's actions.  As a member of law enforcement, the Defendant took a vow to protect the public and uphold ethical standards in his professional and personal life.  He violated these standards when he without cause and for his own personal entertainment, procured an unauthorized law enforcement stop on me when at the time I was unaware that it was my boyfriend pulling me over. When I included these incidents in my citizen's complaint to the CHP, they conclusively found that the Defendant had misused his position and misidentified himself.  As he is a peace officer, he owes a duty to the public, and as I am a member of the public he owed that duty to me.  When he committed these actions, he not only intentionally caused me emotional distress, but his careless and reckless disregard for my well being  negligently inflicted distress as well.   Therefore, I believe he is additionally liable for NIED.

 

--You can review the conclusions made by the CHP in Attachment  SIX of your packet.

--You can refer to Attachment THREE, which includes letters from two separate therapists who have treated me. I redacted my personal information from the letters, but I have a clean copy if you require one.

--My medical expenses to date have been summarized in Attachment TWO through the date of filing, October 9th. 

--I have a detailed graph which itemizes each visit to the doctor or therapist.  I also have a second version which details my expenses through this week.

Also during our relationship, while the Defendant was a guest in my home, he attacked me and forcibly applied a set of professional handcuffs to my wrist. This is the grounds for my cause of action related to Battery, Assault and False Imprisonment. This was done without my consent, and scared me horribly when it happened. I demanded he remove them, and he refused. The handcuffs were locked with a key, and my wrist was too big for me to be able to simply pull them off. I tried a variety of negotiating tactics to get the Defendant to remove the handcuff, but he refused. We argued for a period of  approximately twenty minutes followed by him, forcing me to involuntarily accompany him to a local restaurant, where he again refused to remove the handcuffs unless I went with him inside, which after more failed negotiations, I did. When we returned home he finally removed the handcuffs with his key. This incident lasted an hour or so.

In light of these factors he is liable for Battery, Assault and False Imprisonment.

 

As I discussed all of the causes of actions Your Honor do you have any questions for me?

 

 

The judge then turned to Matt, and asked him to "Go ahead" or "do you have anything to say," or something like that. He did not have a speech prepared, and sort of rambled. He did not speak as long as I did. (I think I spoke about 20 minutes. I had rehearsed it at about 11 minutes, rushing, but when the judge told me to slow down, I slowed WAY down.)  Matt spoke maybe 5-7 minutes.

*He openly admitted to the relationship, but he called it an "extra-marital affair."

* He openly admitted he lied to me about his name/identity, and that he had never told me his real name.

*He openly admitted that we had talked about marriage and children, but very loudly clarified that we did not have a date set for our wedding, and that he had only ever said "someday."  (???)

 

He used the email I sent his wife to claim our relationship ended in October, 2009. This is not true. Our relationship ended the day of discovery when he sent me a text message saying he "didn't want a wife or a girlfriend right now." At the time he didn't know I knew he had both. I had put in an order for 30 yards of white silk from Joann's from my wedding dress and had been talking to my friend about her mom helping us make a pattern so we could design my dress from scratch. I had gotten quotes from two photographer's, Ravenberg, and the Sloan's. I had also contacted a videographer.

Suuuure, we weren't together at all.

 

I was really upset when I wrote about this last time because I was afraid that by me not providing the evidence that we were together through August 2010 I harmed my chances of being about to win for Fraud. I went out to dinner with my attorney a few days after the hearing (yay me! I went out!)  and I realized that I was okay with losing based on legal merit. If I lost because I had no legal standing for my case, that was okay. But if I lost because I was unprepared for court, I could not handle it. That's why I freaked out.

Anyway, through our talking we both remembered/realized the statute of limitations on fraud is three years, not two. So even if Matt successfully convinced the judge our relationship ended almost a whole year earlier, it didn't matter. I stilled filed within the three year deadline, AND fraud is calculated based on the date of discovery anyway.

 

Matt also argued this was a he said-she said. I thought this was stupid. I had paper evidence and through all my anxiety and upset I still almost rolled my eyes when he said this.

 

Matt flat our denied the handcuffing incident. I was shocked. I am still shocked. He also claimed the CHP backed him up that this never happened. (Not  true, CHP said they couldn't discipline him for it because it happened off-duty. They also called him "boorish" in relation to that incident.) He flat our perjured himself. THAT HAPPENED. He handcuffed me. I am not dreaming that up. Under oath, he lied. He flat out lied. But it wasn't until that moment I realized I had no proof it happened. But I swear on a stack of Bibles, that man tackled me, handcuffed me and took me to PIZZA HUT. My wrist was locked with a key and I could not get it off. He did not take it off until we got home. We never mentioned it again and I pretended it didn't happen.

In reference to this, Matt said I was being creative or exaggerating--- neither of those words are right, but he used a pretty phrase that basically called me a liar. Which I didn't realize until I left court, which made me a little angry. Who are you calling a liar?!

 

This post is long enough. Next time!