He got Served
Two weeks ago after writing a post called ‘We Suffer in Silence’ which showcased a small portion of the verbal and psychological abuse heaped on me by my children’s father, I made a decision. I decided that I had to do something about it but I didn’t know what I could do.
I turned to my friends to relay my feelings and my two closest friends didn’t know how to help me. One of them even laughed when I shared with her that I feared him and his wrath. That hurt, but I know that she didn’t mean any harm by it. How could she understand the fear this man instilled in me? When her child’s father started to act up all she had to do was ask him why he was doing it and that made him stop. That didn’t work with my children’s father. Neither did sending him emails asking him to stop or standing in his face demanding that he show me some respect. He just laughed at me.
Like Suezette said, “You can’t demand respect after the fact.”
So there I was feeling empty because I had released all of that hurt into the atmosphere but still feeling helpless to stop him from hurting me again. I grasped at straws hoping someone, somewhere could help me. No one could. My girl Tamara shared that her significant other believed that he was so abusive to me because he knew that I did not have a man in my life to stand up for me. He had no one to answer to. No daddy. No boyfriend. No big brother or close male friend. He knew I was uncovered and therefore a prime target because seemingly no one cared about me. At least not enough to tell him he was wrong and he should stop the abuse.
As a last ditch effort I called the Domestic Violence hotline and spoke with a counselor. She listened to me. She comforted me through my tears. She reassured me that it was not my fault and I was not the only person who had gone through this. She didn’t make me feel like I didn’t try hard enough to stop him. She told me that there was nothing I could do to stop his behavior because I can not control his actions. I needed to hear that.
I needed to speak to someone who knew what I was going through. So many people laugh at people when they seek professional help for certain issues. They say that you are weak or lazy or a number of things but their words reinforce the need to seek professional help. Those exact words are the reason why you SHOULD seek professional help, those people who call themselves friends won’t LISTEN. You need someone to listen to you. They say they are not judging you but they are. A real friend would never trivialize any feeling you have or try to diminish your situation by simply telling you to ‘let it go’. Sometimes you can’t let go and what you need to do is get it out by having someone listen to you. If you have to pay someone to listen or call a free hotline DO IT. Those same people who laughed at you or told you that you were overreacting won’t be there for you in the end because they don’t understand. They never will. And that’s a good thing.
At the end of the conversation with the counselor she told me that I could get an injunction for protection (Restraining order) against him. I confided in her that I didn’t think I could get anyone to believe me and she asked me to at least try because she had seen cases like this granted without threats of physical violence.
So I did. On January 5th I took the morning off from work and I went to the Justice Center and filed for a temporary restraining order. They granted it and set a court date for us to appear before a judge to se if it would become permanent. I was so surprised! I didn’t think anyone would believe me or think that his harsh words were harmful. I thought they’d blame me like most people do when they hear about the abuse.
The temporary restraining order said that he could not contact me under ANY circumstances or face the penalty. I felt a little relieved but I knew that I still had to face him in court and that was a very scary thought. Remember he’s trained for court battles while I’ve barely watched Judge Judy.
I could have had him served that same day because while I was at the Justice Center he called leaving a message saying he would pick the boys up from my house that night. I had already started calling my friends over to be with me when he showed up because my fear of his attacks had gotten deeper. I didn’t have him served that night because I knew that my son was the ring bearer in a wedding the next day that his dad had already bought clothes for and everything. I didn’t want to ruin our mutual friend’s wedding so I just let the police catch up with him to serve him at his firm.
After I learned that he was served I prepared myself for the trial. I received so many emails with advice from readers and those I knew in the law field about what I should do in court and I followed every one. It hurt me to know that he would probably be upset about what I did but I continuously reassured myself that I did the right thing.
A phone message left by one of my wisest friends confirmed that I had. She said, “When you’re on an airplane and it’s about to go down they tell you to take a deep breath from the oxygen mask before placing it on the face of your child. You have to get that breath, Ms. Tee so that you can take care of your boys.” I appreciated that.
Other people told me to control my emotions and not to break down. One reader shared that when she took her child’s father to court for a restraining order she became so distraught that she appeared unstable and the restraining order was not granted. She had filed the restraining order because her child’s father had come to her house and put a loaded gun to his head in an effort to scare her. But she was viewed as unstable by allowing her emotions to take over in the court room.
Also, the allegations I made in the sworn statement given to the police had several points and I was told that I should be ready to argue each point I made. My friend warned me that my children’s father would probably try to attack me in court by trying to prove that I am a bad mother but I had to remember that this court date is not about whether I’m a good mother or not, it is about proving that I have reason to fear that he will abuse me again. I had to keep my focus.
Last night I finished up a written statement to the court. I figured that if I became too emotional they could at least read it. I barely slept with the thought of facing him bobbing through my brain.
I dropped the boys off at school and headed Downtown to 1st street. 175 NW 1st Street to be exact. The courthouse. I parked in that damn expensive ass parking lot and walked inside 30 minutes early.
I found the right floor and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do next. I walked into a waiting area and there he was; my Baby Daddy sitting quietly reviewing some forms in his blue suit. I walked away and sat down trying to smooth my pink, grey and white striped shirt that I wore with a simple grey suit and black pumps. My afro was looking especially uneven but what could I do about that?
When they started the proceedings I was told to sit down in the court room with the other petitioners. We all had to stand up when the judge came in. She was a middle aged white woman with long blonde hair and a bored look on her face. For me every situation has a sound track and when I looked at her I kept hearing Jay-Z’s tightest verse on the remix of ‘Diamond’s from Sierra Leone’, “I do this in my sleep!” She seemed as though she had heard a million cases and nothing was new to her.
I was shaking from the inside out as case after case was tried in front of me. I noticed that the relationship between the judge and the attorneys is not exactly friendly. They seem to annoy each other. It was quite comical as each lawyer tried to have their say and the judge would cut them off getting straight to the point of things.
I watched as men tried to secure restraining orders against their wives/ex-girlfriends and neighbors. Most of the people spoke only Spanish only so the interpreter was in heavy rotation.
When the judge called my name my heart sank. I rose and sat down behind the glass covered wooden table marked PETITIONER. My Baby Daddy was called into the courtroom because he had been asked to remain outside until our turn came. He sat down at the table next to mine and opened his brief case and pulled out some papers.
The judge read my statement as the room became eerily silent. She read aloud all about the degrading emails, the past physical abuse and the threats. When she was done she asked me if I had copies of his emails. I told her I did. She asked to see them and I asked if I could come up to her and bring them. “Yes,” she answered.
“Tell me about the past physical abuse,” she told me.
I recounted the stories of two incidents. I was shaking a little and tears were flowing but I wasn’t boo-hooing or gasping for air. When I was done she asked me what I wanted and I said, “I want him to leave me alone. I’m trying to live my life and take care of my kids and he is intent on being an obstacle to that. He belittles me even in front of my children and verbally abuses me at any time. I’m tired of being paranoid and looking over my shoulder wondering what he will do next. Imagine having to look into the face of someone who hates you so much and see the disgusted look on his face everytime and have to hear those hateful words. I want it to stop.”
After she read one of the emails I showed her she asked him, “Why would you write such horrible things to her?”
“There are only two reasons why I send her emails like that, ” he began. “I enrolled my son in private school and bought uniforms for him. I bought the pants but not the shirts. I asked her to buy them since the store that sold them is in Miami and I don’t live in Miami but she said she didn’t have time to go get them. Out of anger I wrote that letter. The adjectives I used to describe her (pathetic, loser, only good as a carrier)…well, they’re all true.”
I hung my head in shame. Damn. Dude seriously hates me.
The judge looked at him and then looked at me and then she decided that she would order him to have no contact with me. Not a restraining order, just no contact. She said if he violates the no contact order then she wil lissue a permanent restraining order. Exchange of the kids would be done through his mother only.
He tried to speak some more saying that he had proof that I perjured the court or something but the judge was done. She closed the case and dismissed us.
Ten minutes later I received the order in writing and I left feeling relieved. On my way to my car I called my Mama and told her what happened and then I called my lil sister and told her what happened. They had been my biggest supporters in this process because they knew that there was no other way I could handle this even though they both wished with all their heart that THEY could have been his Baby Mama so they could deal with him directly.
Off I went to another interview with a very popular local DJ. When I got my assignment I knew that I had seen her somewhere before. I reached back into my old magazine archive and I came up with THIS PICTURE. That’s right. She was in the July issue of The Source looking quite yummy in a bikini. The interview was phenomenal. She’s a woman after my own heart actually. I don’t think I could have expressed how much she and I have the same goals and vision in life, and she probably wouldn’t have cared anyway. I’m grateful I made her acquaintance and I can’t believe that God is blessing me to meet so many driven, talented, successful Black people who aren’t afraid to share the secrets to their success or help a sista along.
Tomorrow I’m headed to a Buppie mixer on the beach. I promised the CEO of a major Black organization that I’d be there and I’m taking Marsha with me. I also invited the woman from Trick’s label to come along so that we can chat.
Who knows what will pop off when you mix success-hungry young professionals, free drinks and plenty of business cards. I hope I don’t scare everyone away. I can be a wee bit MIAMI and most of these young Black professionals are not even from here which is so amazing to me. The Black people doing big thangs in Miami are imported from other cities. It’s about time a Miami native came on the scene and shook things up a bit.
Let’s see if they can stomache a true CITY GIRL!
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Damn! Them twins on American Idol can SANG and they look good! Whoa, they’re 16? Get it Daddies!
