soooo naive

Back when Andy and I first started to hang-out, I was incredibly naive. I had been in and out of some short-term relationships, one longer one that was long-distance, and I really wasn't in the market for something new. I was living in an amazing condo that was way more than I could afford, and having fun with friends when I wasn't working crazy hours. I had gotten pretty accustomed to my loner routine of getting up at 5:45am to go to the gym where I ran until I couldn't feel my legs, showering, sometimes going to work, other times running errands, and then meeting friends or working evening events, or just plopping down in front of the TV for the night. It was pretty dull, but I liked it. I rarely did anything I didn't want to do. I slept when I was ready to sleep and got up when I told myself I would.

All of that changed though when Andy and I, who already knew each other through work, started to hang out more in social environments. It was no secret that his marriage wasn't working, and any time we had office happy hours she would scream at him on the phone and other crazy things. Working in events, you really need to be available all of the time. That's not to say you get calls 24 hours a day, but if someone needs to call you at 11pm, they should be able to get a hold of you. Brenda made him turn off his phone at night, which, along with her other restrictions on him, led to multiple issues with co-workers, and ultimately some justifiable role changes at work because she simply wouldn't have it. He did what he could to put his marriage first, and his work suffered. We've since formed a balance, where he tries really hard to not be emailing the entire time we're at the grocery store, but I certainly understand when something happens and he needs to be available. This works out well.

Because we work for a smaller company, we all sort of knew when things ended in his marriage. She started badmouthing him to friends who worked for the company, so it wasn't tough to figure it out. Not long after, we went out to lunch, the first time it was just the two of us. I was enthralled with his resiliency, but later realized it was just the happiness of not feeling like he was under someone's thumb all the time that made him so different during such a tough time. That afternoon, I wanted so much to kiss him, but he beat me to it. You know that song that says, "it's in his kiss, that's where it is!" -- yep, they didn't lie. Best feeling ever.

We took it easy at first. It wasn't like I thought there was a chance he was going back to his wife, she made it pretty clear in her constant screaming at him over the phone that this wasn't just an argument. He started to research attorneys to file for divorce, but every time he was able to put aside even $100, she demanded to know where the rest of her money was and if he didn't hand it over, he could forget taking the kids to the park that weekend, oh, and "it's in the children's best interest."

It took him nine months to come up with the money, and it wasn't from saving. Andy is one of those people who regularly goes above and beyond to ensure that things are handled properly, and that he takes care of people. There have been a handful of times when this has come back to him tenfold, and this was one of them. Someone whom he had really, truly, spent a lot of time and effort taking care of, offered to loan him $6000 to retain an attorney. That person later asked him to not return the money, and to think of it as a gift. When he told me that, I teared up. He had already been through a lot at this point, and I don't think this friend knew the magnitude of their generosity.

During this nine months, Brenda let Andy see the kids only, a) when it was convenient for her, and b) at their house. If he did something to make her mad, woosh, there goes kid time until she calmed down. The kids were very young at this time, 5 and 2, so they weren't involved in activities that allowed him to just drop in and see them. If he tried to go to the house uninvited, she threatened to call the police. She held all of his belongings captive, threatening his time with kids if he were to ever try to take any of his stuff while he were at the house. This went on from about February of 2009 until August of 2010. The later part of this timeframe he was eventually allowed to take the kids to the park and to dinner. He would try to, very courteously, ask that Brenda meet him someplace so he could take the kids to dinner and make it back by the time she said, and she would literally belittle him via text message, saying that he could come by the house to get and that it wasn't necessary for her to be so inconvenienced if he really wanted to see his kids, and if it simply wasn't feasible, it was just another example of why he's a bad father. I know these things only because Andy has an iPhone, and he never erased the text messages. We've since saved them for use if need be. Here's a couple less mean examples, but it was like this ALL of the time:

At this point in our relationship, I was beginning to realize that Brenda was a challenging person to deal with in general and not just during a tough time, but a part of me still understood the anger and resentment because, well, everything this woman thought her life would be just sort of fell into the gutter and she was left alone to figure it out. Andy at least had me, and although he didn't really like to discuss her or what was going on, we had a great relationship, and he felt free from the prison of emotional and mental abuse that he endured at "home."

Speaking of home, that's one of the most significant parts of the story. Despite Andy having a great job, during their marriage, they moved a lot and rented. Brenda didn't want to work after baby one, so they were on a month-to-month budget. About a year before they separated, they decided to buy their first home. Andy only lived in it for about six months once the purchase process was done, but more than three years later, she still lives in it and is completely uncooperative in any option to get out. I mean, don't get me wrong, if she were actually paying the mortgage, it wouldn't be a big deal, but you didn't expect me to say she's doing that, did you? Of course not. Hasn't been paid in nineteen months. And the bank is in the process of foreclosing, but that's jumping ahead about two years, so I'll get to that later.

bk

the old bitch, et. al.

My bitch is affectionately referred to as "Brenda". That's not her real name, but it's the name we use around the house, such as, "Did Brenda email you back?" so that the kids, if ever they overhear, aren't immediately clued-in that we're referring to the bitch who uses them to try to piss us off. Note that, despite the fact that I swear and get pretty irate over her irrationality, we make every possible effort to be sure they don't hear us say anything about her, let alone negative stuff. We don't ask them questions, because, quite frankly, I don't give a shit what her life entails. It's not about her, it's about two amazing, sweet, loving, super affectionate, perfect children who deserve a fairytale childhood full of bike riding, swimming, video games, arts and crafts, and time with friends and family instead of being yoinked (I realize this isn't a word, thank you) out of school early because mommy is taking daddy to court (again) and since she can't maintain stable relationships, has no one to pick them up for her. I know, right? Kids first, she says, kids first.

The bitch's ex is my man. She lost out, and I am the luckiest woman in the world. We'll call him Andy, because he's an innocent bystander with a really cool job and people who actually like him, and he'd keel over if he thought people knew about this stuff and subsequently felt bad for him. Why? Because he's amazing. It's not that he "does things" for me and for our family - I hear people say that about their better halves - it's that he LOVES to do things for us. It gives him pride, happiness, and all of those mushy feelings that guys claim they don't have. Andy has endured so much mental and emotional abuse from the bitch that we literally have to sit down and talk about why he shouldn't feel guilty about something the bitch did, because she trained him to think it was all his fault - everything! Oh man, the irrationality makes me shiver just thinking about it. So, we've spent the past three years working on productive arguing and rational thinking. Let me be clear that productive arguing is something I completely made up, but it's me starting arguments (we argue, it's healthy, and don't let anyone ever tell you it's not) in order to show him that, a) he does know how to state his case and when he does, it's not going to result in being belittled because that relationship is over and he's no longer with an unstable woman who uses him to feel better about herself, and b) SOMETIMES I AM WRONG! It's not always you, babe, sometimes it's me! Actually, let's be honest, a lot of the times it's me being emotional or maybe it's just early and I'm hungry or haven't had my coffee. Regardless, and I can't say this too many times, it's not always someone's fault, and it's definitely not always one person's fault.

Before I go any further, I have say something. I am not of the belief that mental and emotional problems are a joke, or that someone is less of a person as a result. I have friends and relatives who have dealt with issues of this nature, but that's the difference here. If someone is professionally evaluated and informed of his or her personal issues, especially in the way they negatively affect that person's children, I believe that person has an obligation to deal with those issues in a responsible manner. Andy had severe confidence and stress issues relating to the way he was treated in his marriage. It made him easy to frustrate, and we both noticed it. We dealt with it, and we still do. It's not something that makes him inferior, it just is something he needed to address, and so he did. On the other hand, Brenda has been told that her issues could potentially result in the loss of custody of the children, she agreed to seek counseling, and she skirted the issue went straight for the false accusations against Andy. This, I believe is a crime. To be made aware of your problems and to continue to wreak havoc on those around you, is irresponsible, irrational, unjustifiable, and makes for a poor mother.

And then there's me...the new bitch. It makes me uncomfortable to talk about myself a whole lot, but in fairness to the fact that I'm talking about others, I'll push through. I've been with Andy for a little over three years. Contrary to what Brenda and her second priest tell God, we did not commit adultery. Side note - she kicked him out after he slept on the basement couch for three months, and she did it via his work email. Now, she claims he walked out on their family and that I'm a whore for being with "her husband" whom she kicked out. Her priest wasn't having any of the belittling she was doing, so she switched churches. She did this with three attorneys as well, until she found one who would participate in the antics, then ran up $5000 in attorney fees and filed for bankruptcy and didn't pay them. Karma is a big ol' bitch, and so was that attorney. We actually replied to one of her crazy ass emails with, "How do you and your husband put your kids to bed at night knowing that you're trying to rob someone else's kids of their father?"I don't think we heard from her for a while but I'm sure it didn't make a lasting impact or anything like that. You have to be a reasonable person for that to happen.

Okay, enough side note...I didn't even get my damn name out. Because I generally don't care to sway anyone's opinion of me, and because one day, when I get around to it, I'll host this site under my own domain and therefore pen names would be useless, I'll use my real name. It's Brittany. A lot of people call me Brit. The closest ones know to call me Brittany in front of my mom in order to avoid a scolding because she "did not put 'Brit' on my birth certificate!" She loves me. I realized when I was in first grade that boys [men] who are older are cooler, smarter, and more appreciative. In first grade I had a crazy crush on Robby who was a fifth-grader and who rode my bus. He was one of the ones who, during a fire drill, would jump out the back door and help the smaller kids down after him. I loved fire drills and I threw a massive hissy fit when I missed the bus. Most of my relationships since then (okay, we weren't in a relationship but by first grade standards, we talked enough - once per school day - to be in love) have featured directly proportional age differences. So let's just put this out there that Andy may, or may not, have been starting high school when I was born. For those of you in similar situations, you understand that sometimes this just works. For those of you with teenagers of your own, I see why you think this is appalling, but keep in mind that, when we began to look at each other differently, we both had salaries, benefits, and retirement funds. My retirement fund had more in it than his did, which may tell you a little bit about the wrath of the bitch, and maybe for those of you who are thinking my attraction to older guys involves things such as bank accounts, rest assured, he was broke as a joke and giving the bitch 85% of his monthly income when we started going on dates to Chili's, during happy hour pricing only.

I want to be sure to occasionally revisit the fact that you probably aren't reading this if you're not in some way involved in a similar situation, and that not all of this is hatred and condescending jokes. Our livelihood has been put before a judge under false pretenses numerous times. If you've been there, you know you can't always come out on top. Brenda is going through a serious mental and emotional conflict that has caused her to put an enormous amount of stress and anxiety on not only Andy and I, but the children and herself as well. If you're reading this as someone who has or has thought about making a false accusation of any form, I beg you, not for the other person, but for your own sake, to bury that thought and move forward with your life. There is no part of this situation that is healthy for our children, for us, or for her. You will spend money that could have sent your children to college, time and energy which could have taken your kids on an adventure, and it leaves this series of ugly wrinkles on your forehead that some may call 'bitch lines'.

bk

the new bitch.

Allow me clarify: I use the term 'bitch' loosely. I'm a bitch. You can probably be a bitch if you want. I know some bitches. But there's one bitch in particular that sucks, and you may have the general form of this bitch in your life, too. For that reason, and that reason only, I decided to tell you all about my bitch, so you may have some form of hope that maybe, someday, your bitch will get less bitchy.

I lied. There's another reason I wanted to write this stuff somewhere; I am pretty sure that in ____ years I won't believe this bitch really did this stuff. I hope the number in that blank spot is small.

And that will be the end of my overuse of the word 'bitch', but since I rarely swear in real life, I can't promise it won't come out here [read: I'll be swearing in posts. If that bothers you, don't read it, and then sit down and try to figure out why you let someone's typed swearing bother you so much].