My husband doesn’t believe I will ever leave him.
“Why would you leave the Golden Goose?” he asks. A self-inflated nod to ‘his’ financial success.
But I do leave — believing this will free my children from a bad situation. Or perhaps I should say ‘I try to leave.’
I retain a lawyer to file for divorce. Unwittingly beginning a terrifying five-journey.
Watch: Robin Bailey and Bec Sparrow share why their first marriages were big mistakes. Post continues below.
The starting point of the divorce avalanche.
Grocery and school supply money is immediately withheld.
My ten-year-old Volvo is left at the service station for weeks at a time. I am at his mercy for getting my kids where they need to go and forced to borrow my neighbour’s car.
My husband says, “Get a job.”
I say, “I need a car to get to work.”
He says, “You wanted to leave me, you get yourself a car.”
I say, “I need a car to get a job and I need a job to buy a car.”
He refuses to send our oldest son back to university. Shortly after, I begin to receive foreclosure notices. Our pediatrician’s office calls to say my children are no longer insured.
There are knocks on our door with warrants in debt. Cars line our cul de sac. The voyeurs who get wind of potential foreclosures. A slew of other unwanted visitors arrive — mortgage company representatives, appraisers, and others.
The more I beg my husband to stop the more he throws at me. The more I solve one problem he creates another.