The Slayer Is Born

This is it. I’m doing it. I’ve had a LOT of ideas over the years from how to hide a rechargeable vacuum dock in furniture to wearing a go-pro as a mom of three under 17 months. I’ve followed through on none of them. Zero. Feels so good! Ugh.

Not this time though. This time I’m fired up. I’ve been propelled and it feels amazing!

Also scary - feels a lot scary. But we’re shoving the scary back under it’s bed and marching on. It feels like pitch-fork and torch energy … y’know, the farmers standing up for their rights way back in the early pages of the Canadian History books? Can’t-stop-me-now level energy.

My separation (or common law divorce) was textbook: an ex who was angry because the world says people who are divorcing should fight. I didn’t want to fight. I wanted to live close enough for the kids to ride bikes between houses and stay for dinner here or there and still have Christmas morning together - for the kids. No such luck.

I’m a sucker for standing up for what’s right (Ahem, Mars in Libra) and that means speaking out when fair isn’t prevailing. In this mess, it translated to standing up for myself regarding basically everything separation or common law divorce related.

Before I get too deep here, I want to be clear: I am NOT an innocent party here. I am the reason this divorce or separation was becoming a reality. I wanted this and I caused this and I tore our family apart. I have my reasons. I guess this is the asterisk that I’m not coming from a place of victim.

This separation broke me and built me up all at the same time - bit by bit, piece by piece, falling apart and putting myself back together even stronger. Terrifying, confusing and lonely. We went to mediation - what a massive eye opener and fail. I thought a Mediator would help me make sense of some of this. Maybe explain or guide me through the process. Not the case. I didn’t know what some of the terms they were using meant and I couldn’t wrap my head around timelines, guidelines and calculations. This is when I learned just how ruthless and unreasonable the man I once loved - who once loved me - could be. I stomped like a child at how unfair his proposal was - I literally stomped. like. a. child. I cried and I pleaded and I couldn’t make him understand how unfair and ridiculous he was being. The Mediator, while I could sense their sympathy toward me, couldn’t do anything.

I was sinking. I was crying at night after the kids went to bed, trying to understand how the path I chose to follow could be doing what it was to my life. My kids were struggling with their emotions, I was going crazy trying to keep the house clean enough to show for a quick sale, trying to find a new home and trying to find it within our school zone. All of the administrative everything, passwords, appointments, money. I was clinging to the idea that in the long run it would be lighter. There would be less tension, I would be free from the manipulation and emotional abuse. But while I was there, I was crying and I was sinking.

It was 2017 and it was the first time I had ever heard the now overused term “Narcissist”. He fit the bill.

Lawyer up they said. So I did my research. I was looking for a lawyer who I thought could defend against narcissism. Someone I thought could understand the insanity - and I found him! An older gentleman who supported women’s groups and sat on boards of community mental health charities. I spent more hours than I care to count trying to explain what I was going through and how everything was being twisted. At each turn and every manipulative move of the chess pieces I contacted my lawyer for advice. The offer was generally to write to my ex’s lawyer - Disbursement fees abound!

There was so much bullshit. So much unnecessary bullshit. Money-wasting, energy-sucking, unnecessary bullshit. Urgent Motions, days waiting at the Court House, negotiations, tactic changes, settlement conferences and drained retainer accounts.

Three and a half years later we landed on a court order outlining custody, access and support. I had fought hard to have my three kids’ extracurriculars included in the support payments. This lawyer I had trusted and relied on to solve my very solvable situation had screwed up. He had not included enough information regarding the extracurriculars for that line of the order to be enforced. I was LIVID. How?! How in the ever loving universe is an error like this even a possibility? That said, as a Transitional Support I can’t guarantee a lawyer won’t screw up paperwork (human syndrome) but I CAN say I will be diligent in reviewing anything that comes my way.

I fired my lawyer, found a bad-ass, cut-throat female lawyer and sat for some legal advice. She doesn’t know it but she fuelled my fire. She wasn’t speaking to anything outside of what my legal options were but her methodical nature, the way she lined things up and advised was so inspiring. I felt like an entirely new way of handling the entire calamity was being downloaded directly into my guts.

Its been a few years now. There is still bullshit but its manageable. The signed contract has given us a “very least” to work from. Meaning that the court order is the very least we must give to - or do for - each other. There are no surprises. I sincerely hope that as a Transition Support during divorce and separation I can shorten this process and help people spinning like I was at the beginning to save time, money and energy.

I am catapulted by a resolve to save other people from similar disaster.

Other innocent, human-loving, kind-hearted people.

The Slayer Is Born.