I’ve reached my lowest of lows since DDay 7 months ago. I’m going through the nastiest settlement negotiations with my philandering soon-to-be-ex. He is living with his whore (more PC name that attorneys use is “paramour”) in my home and I am displaced. He is fighting me over everything, every nickle, every dime, every investment, every stick of furniture.
I have one question and one request. First, for those who are on the other side of divorce, when do you cut bait with the negotiations? I am sick and tired of being abused by men. I want to fight back, but I want don’t want to be foolish.
Second, a request. I’ve read both of Chump Lady’s books and Runaway Husbands at your urging. Great books. I know you say not to wait for the karma bus and I understand why you say that. But…..for a sister Chump who is having a real setback, could I ask you and CN to share some karma stories? I’m phoning a friend.
Trying to be,
I’ll take your first question first. When to throw it in is probably a decision best left to you and your lawyer. You need an idea what you’re entitled to by law, what a fair settlement looks like, and finally how able or willing is he to agree to it. It’s to your advantage that he’s living with his (cough) “paramour.” I’m sure she’d like to finalize the divorce and usurp your position as #1 chump. Let her. And he looks awful to the court. (Do you own this house with him? How on earth is it legal that you were displaced from your own home?)
If it were me, I’d press forward and get this crap in front of a judge. I know it feels like forever. Don’t let him grind you down. You sound weary to me. I get it. If you were on your umpteenth contempt charge, if you got a court ordered settlement and he failed to pay it, if you’re dealing with years of deadbeat issues, I might say forget it. “Some money is too expensive,” as the trial lawyers say. But Hopeful, you’re at the beginning of the suck fest. Let me tell you how the divorce process goes — it SUCKS. Hang in there.
Now, to the karma issue. My official stance here is MEH. Learn to live without justice. Gain a life anyway.
Look, I know you long for him to die of the clap, or fall backwards into a vat of acid, and that you will personally thug kick the next person who says, “The best revenge is living well!”
… But (and I hope you’re not wearing steel-toed boots)… the best revenge is living well.
You’re in the middle of the divorce. You have no mental energy for meh now. You’re battling. Meh would not be appropriate. But when this shit is sorted out (and it will be… the dissolution of assets is finite), then you can give your mental energy to building a new life. A life that will blot out Schmoopie and the cheater’s. A life that is YOUR OWN, that you get to live on your terms, with your values. Keep your eye on that prize, okay?
Meanwhile, “karma” stories… (We’re also not supposed to speak of karma because — as someone inevitably points out — was it our karma to be cheated on?)
I have one. A giant four-story tree fell on his house and crushed his BMW. I refer to this tree as “The Tree of Karma.” I still lived in the same town with him back then. I was driving down the street (the former house was on a main thoroughfare) and saw the storm damage. A humungous tree down, hole in the roof? Car damage? I think that trees are wise and take the longview. This tree was plotting its demise. Maybe it missed me. (As long as I’m anthropomorphizing trees.) I did all the gardening after all. Anyway, I’d left. I didn’t own that property any more. The tree chose its moment and crashed to ground, trying to take out the house and the cheater’s prized sports sedan with it.
It was kinda beautiful. I felt a mix of gratitude to the universe with equal parts schadenfreude. It wasn’t terribly Meh of me.
Really though, the biggest punishment my cheater can endure is being him. He sucks. He goes through life knowing he’s destroyed everyone unfortunate enough to try and get close to him. He doesn’t care. That doesn’t fill me with righteous indignation anymore, that he doesn’t care. That’s who he is. A person who doesn’t give a shit about other people. Who can’t connect. Who lacks the human empathy chip.
He did care about a tree crushing his BMW though. Maybe trees are messengers from God. Who knows?
Chump Nation — you got any karma stories? Or encouraging words for living without it?