Category Archives: Moving Forward

From Blog to Book

I’m going through a bout of writer’s block.

Coupled with the fact that Andrea and I just returned from France, part Deux (ohh, the stories we have to tell!), I haven’t been able to really sit down and focus.

Perhaps the ailment is a bit psychological, too.  The pressure is on now, to build readership and market myself and my book — oh, wait, did I say MY BOOK?!?!?

It’s official:  I have signed a publishing contract with Burnside Books.  They announced it on their website this week.  What perfect timing, too: I signed the contract the day before I jetted off to France.

I’m an AUTHOR!

But the journey from blog to book was a bit of a bumpy one, at first.

Back in March, I was minding my own business at my favorite coffee shop, writing about bigamy (as people can casually do).

Between editing my post, sips of my lovely latte and distracting myself with my blog’s Facebook page, I noticed a new message in my inbox.

It was from a publisher named Jordan Green.  Our mutual friend, Carlos, had recommended he read my blog.  Jordan perused the first couple of chapters, and wanted to talk to me about turning it into a book.

I straightened up on the hard, wooden bench, glanced at my surroundings and scratched at the back of my neck.  I leaned back into my computer screen and placed my fingers over my mouth (which was agape), furrowed my brow, and shook my head.

Really!?!?!

I immediately wrote him back, gave him my phone number, and we ended up chatting the next day. Within a few minutes of our phone conversation, I had a publishing contract in my hands.

I will be the first to admit that I am new to this whole business (I know, fellow writers.  Please don’t hate me!).  I have spent years of my life dreaming for and working towards a career on Broadway.  I made it (kind of) off-Broadway, and have been struggling in my acting career ever since my marriage imploded.  I never, ever thought I’d be an author.  Okay, yes, I have been writing since I was a kid, and my degree is in Journalism.  I’ve always been a fan of my writing and crack myself up – I just never thought that I would have a voice beyond my actual voice.

So, after I “Facebooked” the exciting news that I had my first publishing offer, my friend Ken contacted me.  I have known Ken since I was a happy, dorky, rotund senior in college with a bad haircut.  He and his gorgeous wife attended my wedding, and I actually hadn’t seen them since.  Having had experience in contract negotiation, Ken offered to look over mine and help me however possible, pro bono.

This is another testament to the amazing people who God has allowed in my life, and brings up at the most perfect moments.

Yet, I still needed to do “due diligence”.  So, I flailed around, freaked out and tried to get a few agents, but ultimately was – kindly – rejected.

One agent told me I had a long shot on my hands, especially with the topic of divorce.

“Retail hasn’t always been favorable, sad to say,” he graciously replied.

Sigh.

I get it.  I do.  Nobody wants to read yet another “guidebook” about divorce.  Christian divorce.  Except that my blog-turned-book isn’t just about that.  It’s about the journey; the process; the feelings.  And, really, there’s nothing out there in Christian literature that even begins to deal with the epidemic and reality of divorce.  It’s what I wish I could have read when I was going through it, just to know that I wasn’t alone, “motherfuckery” and all.

I’m so glad someone picked up on that.

Still, it took several weeks of negotiating, praying, wondering, hoping.  I lost faith a few times that it would actually happen, but decided I’d be okay with it.  I’d continue writing, anyway.

Old, familiar fears crept in, too.

What is X going to think or do?!
I’ll just say it (because you’re all thinking it):  X was the writer.

I actually think Sister Wife will be much angrier about the whole thing.  Honestly, I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes.  She married a guy who just had “an affairs”, still loved his first wife, and wasn’t even divorced.  Enough said.

But this isn’t about revenge.  Truly.  When I started this blog eight months ago, I had no idea the scope and impact that it would have.  I just sat down and started writing about my journey.  I have said it before: my intention is not to defame or hurt anyone.

I just want people to know that they aren’t alone.  More importantly, I want people to know how amazing, wonderful, good, faithful and awesome God is.

He is the ultimate Healer.

Who is going to want to date the “Christian Girl” with a “Guide to Divorce”?!
It’s going to take a special somebody, that’s who.  A godly, hunky, delicious man with a great sense of humor and understanding of grace who is not threatened by —  well —  me.

I’m really excited to meet him, by the way.

One friend of mine (whose similar divorce was recently made final) wrote in response to my encouragement:

You need to have some crazy, whirlwind, divinely appointed courtship that can be turned into a sequel to your book.

To that, I say: AMEN, brother, and BRING HIM ON!

And so, a couple of months later, the “deal” is in place.  The book will be coming out soon.  I’ll keep writing, don’t you worry.  The blog isn’t going anywhere.  And you, dear ones – keep reading and passing it along.

Finally, please buy the book!  It will make an excellent stocking stuffer.

Thank you, Renee, for asking me to write about “overcoming”.  That one post I wrote for your blog started it all.  Thank you, Carlos, for reading, responding to and recommending me.  Thank you, Ken, for all your help and encouragement.  Thank you, Jordan and Caleb, for the opportunity to become a published author.  Thank you for recognizing the need for a “guide” (ha!) to divorce.

Thank you, faithful — and new! — readers, for laughing and crying with me, and for graciously embracing this journey.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for using me and my story to bring YOU glory.

I am so excited to see what You are going to do next!

“I’m Going to France to Kiss Somebody”

Friday, April 15, 2011

One year ago I was moving out of my house.  One year ago I knew my marriage was over.  An entire year.

So much has happened since.  I am so thankful

Should I go to Minnesota?  And France?

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Oh, Lord.  What a glorious day.  Such beauty!  I am so thankful to be alive, to have my health; to have such amazing people in my life.  Most of all, I have You.

Andrea and I are going to France in ONE MONTH!  I bought our tickets last night.  I am a bit scared, but why?  Scared of things I cannot control…? I am not in control.  It’s not up to me and it never was.  That is freeing.  I guess I’m scared of being stopped at the border – knowing my fingerprints are in the system as a “criminal”.

A new season begins in my life.  The tax job is over.  I do not want to be wasteful with my savings but I am so excited to go to Paris. 

PARIS!

To see, to live, to LOVE life.  Oh, Lord, what a gift!

2 Cor. 5:7 – “We live by faith, not by sight.”

Thank You for getting me through tax season with the ability to drive.  Thank You for helping me through the emotion and pain of dealing with X.  Thank You that he sent (part of) the money.  Thank You for the doors You will open up for me – even now. 

PARIS!  I am so excited.  Adventure!

Oh, may I learn and see and capture everything in this new, blessed life of mine.

Monday, April 18, 2011

I’m going to PARIS.

Talked to my lawyer today, and, regardless of the outcome of my court case (DUI or Wet Reckless), I will lose my license for a month.  I elected to have it suspended right after my hearing. 

So, I might go to Minnesota to visit friends; to be there for love and support.  I want to be free from license suspension and all that crap. 

Why am I so afraid?  NO FEAR!  Lord, I need You; I need a break from myself and craziness and dating and worrying.

I need to get OUT of here.

Tuesday, April 21, 2011

Oh, Lord, what freedom there is in recognizing YOU and YOUR power and glory; YOUR control over the world; my circumstances; everything.

Father, I GIVE THIS DUI TO YOU.  I GIVE OVER my fears, my worries, and I KNOW You have already worked it out for good.  For my good.  I am not entitled.

 Perhaps You are calling me to a simpler life.  I want to follow You, no matter what.  I NEED You; I NEED help.

I pray for peace as I travel to Minnesota.  I am disappointed that there is no Christmas tour this year.  Father, I need work.  I need a job to support myself.  I am worried that a court conviction will affect my ability to be employed in the future.  I cannot worry about that.  I CANNOT CONTROL ANY OF IT!

These are such hard lessons to be learning.  Humbling.  Lord, take my life and let it be, always, only, ever to Thee.  God, I give You my yearning for love from a man.  I give You my longing for children. I give You my longing for a career. 

I have no idea what You are calling me to, but I want to be used by You.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Oh, Jesus!
Thank You for this day!  YOU ARE RISEN!  Resurrected from the dead!  You have called me out of the shadows; out of the darkness into LIGHT.  I am YOURS.  I am YOURS.

I can’t do this on my own, Lord.  Any of it.  I need You so very badly.  Thank You for accepting me just as I am, with all my ugliness and sin.

DUI or not – it doesn’t matter.  I am a sinner.  I am not able to do this life on my own.  Thank You for this time in my life, Lord, where I am facing hard truths and making idiot mistakes.  Yet You still love me – You don’t judge me at all.

May I extend that grace to myself!

Thursday, April 28, 2011

As my court date looms in on me, I am starting to get scared.  I know I’ll be guilty.  But, Lord, would You show mercy?  I know You already do.  I know that You will carry me through this.  I will be OK.

You are showing me new things, and new people are coming into my life.  I am broken.  I need You.  I need Your approval and not the legal system’s; I need YOUR love and not the affirmation (or lack thereof) of some dumb guy.

Clarity.

Finished AA meetings.  Not for me.  I am proud of myself for doing it – seven meetings in two weeks.  Hopefully that will help my sentence.  Oh, Lord.

I am scared.  I am also free.

Lord, I give my trip to Minnesota to You.  Also France.  I am scared.  Of what?  Making further mistakes?  Being disappointed?  I don’t quite know.  But I do know that I am content: right here, right now.

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Court is Monday morning.  I will be sentenced.  And then I will face my fears, everything.  I just want to move forward with my life.  Oh, Father, I do not want to take anything for granted!

Thank You for yesterday’s birthday celebration with X’s brother and his family.  Thank You for that healing experience.  Thank You for their acceptance of me.  I pray for them and their relationship with X’s parents.  They have been hurt by the fact that X’s parents have basically refused to meet their new baby.  

Who does that?  

Sunday, May 1st

Beautiful day at the beach with Joy today.  I felt Your love and peace all throughout!  Lord, I pray for a reduced sentence.  I pray hard.  I also give the outcome of my case to You.  You know.  You are in control.  You will go before me.

Deuteronomy 3:16 – “Be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid or terrified…for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.

Monday, May 2, 2011

In court.  Shaking.  Possibly will be able to get the Wet Reckless.  LORD, I trust You.  I PRAY for mercy. They have to run my married name and check my records.  If no arrests – OBVIOUSLY – I might be able to get the reduced sentence.  Oh, FATHER GOD!  I pray, pray, pray for Your guidance.  May the Prosecutor be merciful.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Oh, Lord!
I was able to get the reduced sentence in my case.  I plead “no contest” to Reckless Driving.  It still stinks, but it is not a DUI. 

Father, I am so grateful for the mercy and grace You continue to show me.  I will still have to take a three-hour class every Monday night for three months starting June 6th.  But it will be done.

Expensive, horrific and scary lesson.

THANK YOU.

Now I’m going to France to kiss somebody.

“I Just Want to Heal”

It was extremely difficult to forgive myself after my night in jail.  As I had predicted, I beat myself up constantly.  At the same time, life had to go on.  I worked, and I hid.  Very few people knew about my arrest.  Those who did were extremely supportive, loving and encouraging.  Still, I worried.  It was hard to put the fear of the unknown out of my mind.

I hired a lawyer to help me with my court case.  I was done doing things on my own. My “do it yourself” divorce was emotionally, physically and spiritually exhausting.  I knew I needed help to get through the misdemeanor as smartly as possible.  I owed it to myself, and my new life, to treat myself right.

I hoped and prayed for a reduced sentence, but all I could do was wait for my court date in May.

In the meantime, I spent a lot of time alone.  I poured out my pain and brokenness as I started to process my divorce.  It was finally final, yet I felt more confused than ever.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Lord. 

Sunday morning and I’m hiding.  Why am I hiding?  I’m afraid.  Why am I afraid?  What is happening?  I think (I’m feeling) the brevity of the divorce, working, my mistakes, my infractions, hopes, curiosities, deep desires…why do I constantly look at all men’s left hands?  Seemingly, all the good ones are taken.  Why do I feel like I’m never going to get married or have a baby?  Like I missed my chance?

My pride is in the way.  Pride and fear.  Pride, fear and shame.  Forgive me, Lord.  I am such a big piece of crap, and without You I am not even worthy of being a thought of crap.

I am tired.  Weary.  Spent.  Don’t have energy.  Need rest.  Need You desperately.  May You be blessed by my heart and worship, O Lord.

(I feel like) my obsession with wanting someone has become idolatry.  Wanting this “perfect” relationship because my marriage to X was so hard in the end.  And that there is this mythical, perfect person out there.

Wrong answer.

Why am I OK being alone?  Because I am protecting myself from hurt and pain.  I don’t want to be hurt again.  Terrified of a broken heart.

If I have feelings for someone then it all goes to pot. I end up rejected, or not treated very well.  So, I’m hiding.  I’m hiding and I will continue to isolate myself.  I feel crazy.  Lord, I need help.  I acknowledge my desperate need for You; for grace and redemption.  I confess my jealousy of people who have strong marriages and beautiful children; who have people other than themselves for which to live.

Got a message from an online dating guy who thanked me for my honesty and “thoroughness”.  He acknowledged me as a woman of God.  Oh, Lord, would that be so.  I can’t think of a greater compliment.

I am divorced.  I am divorced.  I am divorced.

Who am I kidding?  How on earth will I overcome a divorce, relationship issues, desires, how?  You will carry me.  How will I get through next weekend?  The rest of tax season?  Court?

You.

God, I’m sorry that I keep looking to see Your blessings and cease to recognize You, the Giver.  I should be seeking You with all my heart.  Am I doing this?  Am I just expecting results instead of waiting for You?

I confuse myself.

I am struggling, Lord.  I’m trying to get up and do all this on my own.  “Look at me, Jesus!  Look what I can do!”  But the truth is, I can’t do ANYTHING.  Nothing.  I can’t even open my mouth to speak or sing without You.

You have given me gifts because of Your abundant grace.

PAIN.  Pain in my heart.  New healing, new awareness of who I am and who God is.

Later —

Happiness is not found in another person; a circumstance; an opportunity.  Completeness is found in Christ alone.

Why does it take me sinking to the floor of the valley to realize this; to rest in it?  At the same time, it is OK to long for — or even be afraid of — a relationship.  It has been a year since I left X.  And healing has come but I am sure there is much further to go.  I don’t want to hear people tell me I’m not ready because I so much want to be.

But my heart knows.  I have to heal. 

I’m so unworthy of You, Lord.  I hide my face in shame.  How can I even begin to grasp the breadth and depth of Your grace?  OH, GOD, I am restless.  So very restless.  I don’t know how to be content.

What can I do, but thank You?

What can I do, but give my life to You?

I long to be pursued, I long for a man to know me.  I long to have that moment – “did I just meet you?”

I am so broken.  So broken.  I hurt, I grieve, I ache.  I cannot find purpose.  I need You.  I just want to heal.

Learning to live day-to-day is probably the singular, most difficult thing I have done yet.  I am trying not to worry about upcoming events; trying not to plan or control my future.  I can’t do it.  I cannot live on my own, without Your grace and mercy; without Your blessing.  How can I even get out of bed in the morning without Your grace?

With You, I can face anything.

Less Like Scars

It’s been a year.

Today is important for me.  It’s a milestone. It’s a big deal.  I am proud of myself.  I have quite often wondered where I would be a year after my divorce was final.  I wonder where I will be after two.  Five.  Ten.  Twenty.

My divorce (and subsequent criminal record) does not define who I am.  It is a part of my life – a part of my past.  My choice to open up and share my story in such a public manner might be a totally stupid one, but I have seen how God has used it/me to help others.  It’s so exciting! Somehow, my bold vulnerability has spoken; resonated.  I’m beyond grateful for that.

Today, my fingers are poised above the keyboard, wondering whether or not I should bring the present into the picture.  I told myself that I wouldn’t write about future relationships.  Any man endeavouring to date me might be completely turned off by the fact that I have this blog in the first place.  It’s intimidating.  It’s dangerous territory.

Chalk me up there with Adele and Taylor Swift in the “don’t fuck me over or I’ll write about you” department.  Ha.

But it’s me.  It’s my life.  It’s my heart.  I can’t hide it – I don’t want to.  I want to grow, I want to learn, I want to continue to change, and become the person that God dreams me to be.

He dreams much bigger things for me than I do for myself.

So, here I am: one year after my divorce was made final, two years after I left my husband, and three years after the shit went down in the first place.

And I think not of my ex-husband at all.

My heart has been distracted by a very recent, painful break-up.  It was a short relationship – just three months.  And, for the most part, it was wonderful.  I was so happy I didn’t even know what to do with myself.  I was also scared out of my mind, but, with the encouragement and support of my therapist and my friends, I settled into it.  I didn’t run away.  He pursued, and I responded, eagerly.

I finally learned what it felt like to be treated right.

He liked me for me.  He didn’t care that I was divorced.  He laughed at my sense of humor.  He appreciated my talent.  We shared similar interests and beliefs. We clicked.  We had chemistry and compatibility.  He opened the car door for me.  He bought me flowers.  He introduced me to his friends and some of his family members.  We spent as much time together as we could, in those first two months.  He took me on a couple of trips to some fantastic places.  He respected me.

I felt safe.

Finally.

It was easy to fall in love with him.  I never told him, though. I didn’t think it was appropriate.  I wanted to do this new relationship the right way.  I wanted to settle in for the long haul, and take things slow.

But then, things started to crumble a bit.  I made some stupid comments in front of important people in his life.  I felt terrible.  He forgave me, but I started to worry that my bad behavior would become a weekly issue.  I saw less and less of him.  He wasn’t able to communicate with me as often.  He was busy with his job, business trips, and other responsibilities and interests.  I felt him pulling away.

I didn’t feel like a priority anymore.  It hurt so badly I couldn’t breathe.

So I broke up with him.

He was hurt, confused and angry.  I tried to make things “right” by over explaining myself, my reasons and my emotions, but ended up making things even worse.

I de-friended him on Facebook, and then re-friended him. (Yes, I am twelve.)  He never accepted.

He told me that I gave up too easily.  I told him he didn’t fight for the things that he really wanted.

We haven’t spoken since, and I’ll never see or hear from him again.

It hurts.  Breaking up is hard to do.

But I have learned.

On this day – this one-year divorce-versary, I realized something.  A few things, actually.

The “issues” that I had in my first (albeit very brief) post-divorce relationship were not things that couldn’t have been worked out under “normal” circumstances.  Yet, I am not normal.  I am a divorcee.  Little things that might have not been a big deal to another person were stupendously huge hot buttons for me.

These things may take time, and extra patience.  Sometimes I feel like I, myself, have neither.  I don’t know what man in his right mind on this earth would want to take me on.  I don’t say that to be cute, or garner sympathy.  I have been hurt, yes.  I am afraid of being more hurt, sure.

But I am willing to get hurt.  It’s worth it.  I’d rather die with my heart broken twenty times over than live with it seized, overprotected or ice cold.

Love is always worth it.

Nothing will hurt as deeply as my divorce.  Yet, it is behind me, and it will become more and more of a distant memory.  My scars are, indeed, fading into beautiful character.

It’s been a hard year
But I’m climbing out of the rubble
These lessons are hard
Healing changes are subtle
But every day it’s 

Less like tearing, more like building 
Less like captive, more like willing 
Less like breakdown, more like surrender 
Less like haunting, more like remember 

And I feel You here 
And You’re picking up the pieces 
Forever faithful 
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation 
But You are able 
And in Your hands the pain and hurt 
Look less like scars and more like 
Character

I’m still cleaning up my freshly broken, hurting heart.  It, too, will take time to heal.  Whether or not this man was the right one for me, or I for him, I’m so grateful to have opened up, to have trusted, to have laughed and learned; to have loved again.

Holy Matrimony

As soon as I hiked down from the mountain, I received a text from Kathy.

“Congratulations!”

My house was sold.  I was even able to pick up a check that reflected my half of the profit.  It felt surreal.  I deposited “the blood money” into my savings account that day.  It was done.

Two days later was my “Universary” .  I just so happened to be house/dog sitting for my neighbors. Oddly enough, it was good to be back in the neighborhood.  It was good to hug my dog, Wimbley (whom my amazing neighbors adopted).  It was hard to see my house, sitting next door,  but I knew it was for the best.

I sat atop my neighbors’ deck and wrote.

October 30, 2010

Here I am, at Lisa and Laura’s.  It is a beautiful day; calm and peaceful.  I treated myself to a facial this morning at Burke Williams and am now enjoying the beautiful, late afternoon.  Clean.  Free.  I don’t own [my house] anymore, and it feels REALLY good.

NO looking back.  I have my chair turned away from the property.  Oh, how far You have brought me, Lord!  Thank You!  Today is not sad.  It is a celebration of You and me, and our journey.  You are with me…You are here now, causing the breeze to gently caress the trees; shining the light; loving me.  Oh, how much You love and care for me!  I am so blessed!

After I finished writing, I flipped open my 14-year old Bible.

I rifled through the front pages: a certificate of “Holy Matrimony”, a list of births and deaths; a family tree. I have always wondered why it was necessary to list these things in a Bible, and laughed to myself.  Of the four marriages that I had written down, only two of them remained.

50%.  50% of marriages end in divorce.  What a shitty, shitty statistic.  My Bible even told me so.

I flipped back to the front page, where I had lovingly filled in the details of my wedding day.

THIS CERTIFIES THAT

Leslie Leigh Spencer and [my husband’s full name]

were united in HOLY MATRIMONY (Wow, they really wrote that word out, big and fancy.  HOLY MATRIMONY!!)
on October 30, 1999…

I studied the print for a moment.  Everything about that day was just a faint memory.  It had no place in my life anymore, nor did it hold a place in my Bible. I took the page and calmly ripped it out.  I then tore out the rest of the pages of “memories”.

I wanted my Bible to just be a Bible.

I placed the pages atop a pile of ashes in Lisa and Laura’s chiminea, grabbed a lighter, and lit each corner on fire.  I watched in peace as the pages burned.  I returned to the blue leather to find an appropriate verse to accompany the “ceremony”:

“…a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”  ~Isaiah 61:3

A few weeks passed.  My show closed after a 10-week run, and Joy and I took a trip to Sonoma.  I really needed to get away, and it felt good to get out of Los Angeles and enjoy my best friend and good wine.

One night we decided that I should join an online dating service.

“It’s time, Leslie,” Joy encouraged.  “You need to get yourself out there.  You need some dating experience!”

It was true.  I just didn’t really know how to go about it.  I had gotten married before online dating really existed, so it was all strange, new territory.  Furthermore, I hated having to advertise myself as if I were some sort of show horse.

Joy sat with me and helped me fill out the seemingly never-ending questionnaire.  I wanted to represent myself well, and it was good to have the person who knew me best at my side.  She didn’t let me off the hook, not once.  We laughed, drank wine and marveled at the experience.  As much as I would later dread online dating in general, I was excited to be moving forward with grace and such loving support.

It felt right.  I wasn’t exactly divorced yet, but it was just a matter of time.  All the paperwork had been turned in, and we had a court date in a month.  Surely the divorce would be final then.

And then, a week later, I discovered that my husband was engaged to be married.

Ending As We Had Begun

The next few weeks were crucial, grueling and exhausting, in regards to paperwork.

I had an unruly and greedy neighbor who lived atop my hill, just behind the sprawling mass of untamed, indigenous land that we owned.  Once he found out we were selling our home, he tried to exercise his rights to a portion of the land that we had given him permission to use.  It became a frustrating nightmare, not to mention a scramble against the clock to get Escrow closed before he could file a lawsuit against us and adversely possess our land.

Sometimes I just don’t understand people.

I had to meet again with my husband, this time to sign Escrow papers.  I was on a roll.  The end was in sight, yet the pain was still real and raw.  I swallowed it and prayed for mercy.

We met with Maggie, our Escrow officer, at 1:00 p.m on a Monday.  She was a lovely, kind, older woman who obviously knew that our decision to sell had arisen from divorce.  She gently explained the process and what we were signing away.  If all went well, we’d close in thirty days.  My husband quickly scrawled his one-lettered signature on every single piece of paper as fast as he could.  I sat on the chair to his right and carefully read the documents before signing my full name.  It felt surreal.  I had flashes of old memories when we were signing the Escrow papers to buy the house.  Those were happier times, indeed, yet somehow (strangely) no less hopeful than the present.

Still, I was signing my house over to someone else.  It felt so unfair.

I unwillingly started to cry.  Maggie immediately offered me some tissue, but kept pointing to places where I needed to sign.  I sensed strength in her sympathy.  Nevertheless, my tears dripped onto the pages.  It made me feel embarrassed, but I kept my head down and continued to sign my name.

Leslie Spencer.  Goodbye, house.
Leslie Spencer.  Goodbye, marriage.
Leslie Spencer.  Hello, unknown future.

My husband seemed to squirm in his seat as he waited for me to finish.

When the final document had been signed, he got up and announced that he had to leave.  He fled, as fast as he could.

Maggie watched him leave and then sighed.

She got up from her chair, came over to me and gave me a big hug.  She held me as I wept.

“Oh, honey.  Cry.  Let yourself cry.  It’s OK.  Let it out.”  She was so gentle.

Then, to my surprise, she started to cry with me, as she briefly shared her story. She, too, had been through a divorce at my age.  My husband’s behavior reminded her of her ex.  I guess the pain of divorce never really goes away, although she is happily remarried to a remarkable man.

I finished crying, blew my nose, and thanked Maggie profusely.  I was touched by her sympathy.  She wished me the best and said she’d take care of my escrow for me.  I felt better; cared for.

As I slowly made my way to the parking lot, I checked my messages on my phone.  I had received an email from my husband, just minutes after he had fled the Escrow office.  He apologized, saying he had to go.  He then said he’d be sorry forever.

A couple of weeks passed, and I had to meet with my husband again.  He needed to read, agree to and sign the Marital Settlement Agreement that I had re-drafted.  It was a frustrating and detailed document to write, but I had gotten help from my lawyer.  Everything was so grossly fair.  50/50. His and Hers.

Anxious, I emailed him.

We are going to have to meet again. I need you to sign the amended Marital Settlement Agreement. Please make yourself available, this needs to get filed NOW.  I am available Friday.  Thank you.

He replied, saying that he’d be available Saturday morning.

It will only take two minutes. I can meet you anywhere. Thank you for cooperating.

He had a film premiere, and decided Friday morning at 11:00 a.m. — downtown — would be better.

And then, I got an idea.

Yes, Friday morning is better. That way I can file it immediately…let’s meet at the courthouse.  I’ll meet you outside. Across from Disney Opera House and Dorothy Chandler Pavillion. Ok?

He was forty-five minutes late, but he showed up.  He didn’t read a single word of the Settlement Agreement.  He just signed it all.  I gave him copies.  He told me he liked my shoes.

I then asked my husband to accompany me inside to file the final documents.  He obliged.

We stood in line – that horrible, awful line where people go to end their marriages – together.  We said nothing.  It was so strange, standing there.  I didn’t have anything to say.  I couldn’t find anything to say to him.  We were so distant; so different.  I marveled at how I used to love him – and how I still loved him, somehow.  I marveled at how I didn’t know him, yet I was the only one who really, truly knew him, deep down.  I felt compassion for him, anger, hurt, frustration and injustice.

Perhaps I mostly felt injustice, in that building where justice was supposed to be served.

We made our way through the line and towards the clerk. As I stepped up and handed her the documents, I had another memory flash.  It was the only other courthouse experience we had together  — years ago —  as we excitedly applied for our marriage license.  We were 22 and 23 years old, respectively.

I had signed my name then, too: Leslie Spencer.

I let the memory fade.

The clerk rifled through our documents as she chomped on her gum.  She checked our signatures and stamped each paper.  This time, the sound of the stamping was less deafening.  In fact, it sounded more and more like freedom.

“It will take about two months for this to be final,” she flatly offered, as she inked the last document.

“Thank you so much,” I almost squealed.

My husband said nothing.  He stood there with his hands shoved into his pockets.  Occasionally he checked his Blackberry.

We walked down the reflective corridor in silence, out the security doors and into the afternoon sunlight of a warm, October day.  Since we had parked in the same general direction, we walked together to the corner of 1st and Grand.  We waited for the WALK sign to give us the signal to move forward.

My husband turned towards me.  “So, that’s it?!”  He asked.

I grinned.

“That’s it,” I said, and extended my hand.

Years ago, after our very fun and sweet first date, I had thanked him at the end of the night by shaking his hand.

My husband looked at me, knowingly, and half-laughed.  It was a tender moment.  He took my hand and shook it, slowly.  In that moment, we both realized that we had ended just as we had begun.

I smiled, looked up at him and searched his empty, blue eyes.

“Goodbye,” I said, sincerely.  I turned and walked away, as a wider smile spread across my face.

I was free.

Well, almost.

Help me, O, God. I Hurt.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

It happened.  The papers were signed.  I met him in Starbucks at noon.  Walked in and bought myself coffee.  He looked as he always looks — this new person — dirty, not taking care of himself.  He asked me how I have been and I replied, “We are here to talk about the divorce.”

We agreed on everything – I am taking half his retirement and he will keep his credit cards.  He said he would pay me half of the lawyer fees.  I don’t believe him, I should have had it in writing.

I said I worried about him.  He asked why. 

After a long pause, I responded, “Because I love you.”

He never told me he loved me.

I told him I didn’t think he was in a good place or on the right path.  I also told him about my vivid dreams of him – all his drugs and women.  He didn’t say anything.

I said I was excited to meet someone who will truly love me – also someone with whom I can have a family and care for.  I need to move on.  I expressed excitement at having sex again.  He smirked.

I told him he never made himself trustworthy after the affair.  He told me I should have trusted him – that we had ten years of trust.  I explained to him that it was broken.  He defended himself and said the marriage became “irreconcilable” after I “only wanted to go to marriage counseling”, and he wanted me along for the next chapter.

He is delusional.  He wanted “me and…” ???

I said he needed to have only wanted me.  The “and” would come.

We then went to the house.

Horrible.

I made him take boxes of photos, our dishes and china, and my wedding dress.  He said the dress wouldn’t fit in his car (some Jeep, I don’t know where he got it). 

“Throw it in the trash, then.”

He carried it to the Jeep.

Going through boxes – I broke down in the middle of the garage.  Lisa (neighbor) came outside and comforted me.  Then, after a while, [husband] said, “ I have to go.”

“Bye.”

He just stood there.

And then he spoke.
“This isn’t what was supposed to have happened,” he said, softly.  “Why couldn’t we fix it?”

I fell to my knees in the street, sobbing.  Snot and tears bubbled together into a pool of grass and dirt on the hard, grainy asphalt.  Tiny pebbles dug into my kneecaps, causing them to bleed and bruise.  I couldn’t bear to look up at the street or behind me at the house, which was now no longer a part of my — our —  life.

Dramatic?  Yes.  But I couldn’t help it.

He just touched my back.

And sneezed.

He said his heart was broken just as much as mine.  He wished I would forgive him for the Ukrainian girl, but that he wasn’t what I wanted.

I agreed. “Not after her.”

He never followed through with ACTIONS.  I expressed that to him.  As I pulled myself together and got up to leave, he tried to hug me.  I stopped him.

“No, do not touch me.  It is too painful.”

I told him I hoped that he’d be happy and find what he is searching for.  But he lost the one person who really, truly knew him – the one person who would really love him the best.  I also told him I was really great.

He said he knew.

He openly admitted that, yes, he would always continue to leave me.

My heart breaks into a thousand fragments again.

Lisa later told me that one of our neighbors saw him parked outside of our house, long after I had driven away.  His head was slumped over the steering wheel and he was sobbing, loudly.

I must move forward.

Help, God.  I feel like I can barely move.  I still love him and that’s not going to go away easily.

Oh, God, it’s so painful.  SO, so painful.

I can’t even begin to digest the pain.  Grief.  Shock, Horror.  All over again.

I feel totally dead – like my body sustained one too many blows and I succumbed to my injuries.  I want so badly to press forward, yet my heart still clings to my husband.  Even after all he has put me through, I still love him and I wish he would choose me.

He can’t.  He won’t.  And all that is left of us is in boxes.

I can’t see, God.  I can’t see anything.  My heart is broken. Smashed into a billion pieces and then set on fire, pointed and laughed at.  It is then dragged through sewage and hung up on display for all the women and druggies in my husband’s life to see.  His “friends” – those three cast of characters.  They laugh at me and mock my pain and blame me for not letting my husband do whatever he wants/wanted– drugs, women, scandal, surf, party.  

I know, eventually, that life will get tiring, but the question is, when?  I feel rejected all over again.  A million times over.

The life we had was a mere joke; a laughingstock for all the mistresses and “investment bankers” in the world.  Such pain.

I still love my husband and want a life with him. But he is too lost.  You have made it clear that he is not for me anymore…yet my heart aches and aches for the husband I once knew; the love we had.  I know I am forgiven, as is he, and I have to let go.  Help me to let go of him.  It is so difficult.

Lord, end my pain.  Take my life.  I want no more.  I refuse to buy the lies that have convinced and corrupted my husband and his family.  I reject those lies.  

I trust that You are leading me out of this marriage because it is best for me.

I cling to You.  You who promised are faithful.  You have a plan for my life.  You are moving in my life.

I cannot see, but I trust with whatever human ability is left.

Help me, O, God.  I hurt.

 

 

SOLD!

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

I’m so drained.

I can’t keep doing this – [my husband] makes me insanely angry; crazy.  I am tired of doing everything for him.  I want to claw his face off.  I want to punch him until he feels the hurt and anger and rejection that I do.  I want him to feel; I want him to be responsible.  But it’s entirely impossible.

There’s nothing I want more in the world than to be done with this divorce.  Oh, please, God, have mercy.  I want to move on with my life and not be stuck in limbo.

I just can’t do this any more.  God, I leave it in Your hands.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

“Those who know Your name will trust in You, for You, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek You.” ~Psalm 9:10

“Show me Your ways, O LORD, teach me Your paths; guide me in Your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in You all day long.”  ~Psalm 25:4-5

JESUS, I TRUST YOU.  You will never forsake me; You are always taking care of me.  I know You have a plan for me and my life.  I cannot see it and I am scared, but I must let go; let You take control. 

The house is going on the market and it hurts me so badly.  “As is”.  A divorce sale.  And for what?  For what?  What a waste.

I have to stop crying.

God, I don’t know where You want me.  I sit here, amongst the unknown and my heart screams out.  I TRUST YOU!  I TRUST YOU because I know You will not let me down; I KNOW You have plans for me.

I am still grieving, still wondering what to do; where to go.  It’s starting, Lord.  And I am trusting that You want me to sell the house.

I have to let go.

I’m giving my future to You.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Lord.

My tenant offered on the house.  I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.  Counter?  Just walk away?

Was up until 3:00 a.m., crying and crying.  My eyes are swollen.  My body screaming.  [Husband] responded at 2:00 a.m. to my email, where I asked him to meet with me to discuss the remainder of the divorce and sign the papers.  He said he had “meetings” but would work around my schedule. 

I told him to cancel his (stupid ass, fucking horse shit) meetings and do what is right.

I can barely move.  I am so exhausted…It’s You and me, God.  Who better to have?  Close in 30 days.  No property tax.  No more mortgage payments.  Nothing.

GOD, I NEED HELP.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

I have one more day to decide if I accept my tenant’s offer on my house.  I have some peace, but I am not sure if I am just being hasty in my decision-making?

I HAVE NOTHING.  Losing everything.  All.  Husband, house, family.  I’m even down to my last unemployment check.

This is from You.  I am trusting it.  Your timing.  Would I like more money?  Of course.  But I am trusting, trusting.  Oh, Father. You give and take away, and You are so good to me.  You are loving me through this.  How can I thank You enough?  How?!  Everything is Yours.  And I do believe You orchestrated this.

I pray for peace.  I don’t understand, and I don’t know what is next, but I believe You are leading me.  Out of the mire, and into the new life You have planned.

Friday, September 17. 2010

Proverbs 16:9 – “In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps.”

Psalm 37:5-7 – “Commit your way to the LORD, trust in him and he will do this:
He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn,
the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.
Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him.” 

Today I will sign the offer on my home.

Tonight I will open a show.

Lord, You are so good to me.  I have peace.  And I know You give peace in all circumstances.  You have carried me through this time, and the end of this chapter is near.  I cannot plan anything.  I have seen Your mighty hand in everything so far; how can I not trust You?

I am heartbroken to give up my home but I know it is Your will.  A NEW start.

I pray for [my husband].  Please help end this pain.  I do not know what will become of him; it’s too painful to even know where he is.  I pray for healing.  Healing is in Your hands.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

My tenant bought the house!  Sold!  Escrow opens Monday.  Huge.  This is huge.  And, I have to admit, a relief.  You are so good.  You knew all along.  The timing is Yours, and I feel peace.  Your hand guiding me.  I am so curious as to where You will lead me.

Oh, God, I love You.  I am losing everything but gaining YOU.  Freedom.  There is such unbelievable freedom in You.

I pray that [my husband] would show up on Monday to sign the divorce papers, and that we would be able to communicate.  I still grieve him and his choices…but it needs to be over.

 

I Hate Being Divorced From You

I immediately contacted a lawyer.

I explained to her my situation.  I wasn’t able to afford a long, drawn-out divorce battle, and my in-laws were holding the Quitclaim Deed hostage.  My husband and I had nothing to fight over, really, but his parents’ cruel and intrusive involvement was making things far messier than they needed to be.

Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do.  California is a no-fault state as far as divorces go, so I really couldn’t plead with the judge for some favoritism.  I had to re-focus on moving forward with the paperwork, and accept the fact that I’d have to split everything 50/50.  I was doing all the work, and even helping my husband along, just to get the damn thing done.  I knew, deep down, he would do nothing.  

After all, he was out of the country.  Per usual.

The lawyer gave me sound advice, and, for a nominal retainer, helped guide me through the paperwork.  It would take about six months for the whole thing to go through, provided my husband’s cooperation.   There might still be a way for me to keep my house, but the lawyer posed an interesting question.

“Do you really want the responsibility of a house at this time in your life?”

I sighed.

I didn’t know.  I just didn’t want to lose everything.  To me, the house was a symbol of maturity; adulthood.  It meant I was responsible.  I loved my home, and I wanted the safety and security that accompanied it.

For the next month or so, my journal entries were full of anxiety and confusion.  I had re-entered my social life, and it was met with enthusiasm, support and encouragement. It felt good to return to some sense of “normalcy”, yet the old life was still hanging on.  I had random bouts of grief, where I felt crazy, inconsolable and out of control.  I had random crushes on men, all of which I knew were futile to pursue or entertain.  I wasn’t ready to move forward in that area of my life, at all.

I wrote out my crazy.

Feeling extremely lonely.  Sad.  Vulnerable.  Frustrated.  Wishing my husband would email me and just BE A MAN.  Seriously.  Wishing a man would take me in his arms and love me. 

Why can’t anyone love me?  Oh, my heart, my heart longs for love, my heart longs for someone who loves You, who will love me.  God, forgive me for being impatient.  There’s my husband, whom I still love.  Or do I?  Do I love him?

All of this distraction and I’m not focusing on my divorce.  It’s hard to let go of the life that I loved with my husband.  I loved my life with him.  I don’t know how to wrap it all up – not sure what was right and was truly was wrong.  I am so easily distracted and disappointed in myself. 

I know I have to heal.  And I cannot hurry anything up.  Patience, not immediacy.

I pray about the divorce and the next step I’m supposed to take.  Oh, LORD, it’s terrifying and I feel paralyzed.  I want to go back to a month ago where everything was clear, where I trusted You 100%.  It was just You and me, God.  And it still is, but I’m getting foolish…I feel like crying, I feel like being bad, I feel like I want to crawl under the covers and sleep for a week. 

I’m so real and raw it’s scary.

And then, out of the blue on a typical June Gloom day, I received an email from my husband. It was simple.  He hated being divorced from me.

Little did I know, he was a newly engaged man.

Divorcing the In-Laws

I left the Conrads parking lot that evening, feeling a sense of peace and closure.

My husband filed a response to my petition for divorce the next day.  He also signed and notarized the Quitclaim Deed so that I would become the sole owner of our house.  I asked him if he could bring the document over.  I was playing “Harmless Housesitter” for my neighbors, Lisa and Laura.  They had taken the steps to adopt our dog, Wimbley, and I wondered if my husband wanted to come over and see him, and, frankly, say goodbye.

He responded, and told me that he was leaving that night.  It would be too hard for him to see our dog and our house.  He said he’d be back in LA soon, but he didn’t know when.  He also said that he’d like to see me when he got back.  He anticipated emailing me, and if I ever wanted to correspond with him, all I had to do was just tell him.

Feeling a surge of compassion, I wrote him back.

I’m broken up, too.  Hurting a lot.  It’s been a long, hard, hard road and I still wish that you would choose me.  But I understand that you can’t/won’t, and it’s ok.  Too much time has passed, and too much damage has been done.  God has something good in store for both of us.  I have been praying for, and will continue to, pray for you.

Take care of yourself.  Don’t waste your heart on some silly “hot” girl.  Wait for the real thing, because you are an incredible person.  God wants to restore you; God wants to redeem this messy situation, and He will bless you.  He will.  Be careful and make good choices.  And you will see how God takes care of you and heals you.  He will heal you.

I’m not trying to preach at you, I just felt that those words should be shared.  And, at the risk of going overboard, I’m attaching that song that has spoken to me so much over these past few weeks.

I hope your parents and your family know how much I love them.  I understand we are all hurting right now, and I also understand that blood is thicker than water, but I just wanted to put it out there.  I love you all.

Safe travels – may God be with you.

He thanked me and told me he loved me.  It made me sad.  Yet, I breathed a sigh of relief.  The paperwork had been completed, and I could now move forward in my life.  My husband, although lost, had actually made a responsible and wise decision.  I had hoped it would be the first of many.

A few hours later, that sense of peace and closure I felt was immediately ripped from me.  To my surprise, I received an email from my father-in-law.

THIS PORTION OF THE BLOG POST IS BEING EDITED FOR CONTENT.

I read the email and freaked out.  I immediately got on the phone and called my father-in-law.  I was upset, angry, frustrated and hurt.  These people had meddled in my marriage and my life one too many times. I wasn’t going to take it anymore.  The conversation was fruitless – I could not reason with either of them.  I told my father-in-law that he was “just a flea”.  He could not hurt me, no matter how hard he tried.  I actually understood that his cruel words were out of his own pain, confusion and disappointment in himself and his son.

Before I hung up, I told my in-laws that I loved them both, and I loved their son.  There wasn’t anything they could do, or say, to take that from me.

My eyes – although blinded by tears of hurt and confusion – were being opened.  I might be losing everything in my divorce, but I was gaining more.

I was gaining freedom.