Originally published at Medium on June 11, 2020
April 21, 2014
It was thirteen days after I left my marital home in the middle of the night with my four youngest children and six days after I received temporary custody and a temporary Order of Protection from this very court.
A chill hung over the glass-walled room with the small black sign “PROSECUTORS” pointing to it.
My newly purchased open-backed heels dug into my ankles as my tiger patterned shirt hung loosely over my black mid-thigh length skirt. My attorney, a grey-haired sharply dressed middle aged man who was standing next to me had recommended that I dress formally to impress the judge.
The chill in the air began to lift as I saw no sign of my husband.
Perhaps I wouldn’t need to go through this after all.
Perhaps I could go home and leave this all behind me.
My feelings of relief were premature as my attorney nudged me and pointed down the hallway to a blur of hatted black-clad men with several women trailing behind them, heading towards the defendants room.
“Which one is your husband?”
As the group passed by, their faces began to crystalize and I saw my husband, my four older children, my son-in-law and my brother-in-law.
A sharp pain tore through my heart as my legs began to shake.
It was happening again.
No one is there for me.
I am all alone.
I have to do this all by myself.
Would I ever be taken care of?
Would anyone ever love me?
I knew that they didn’t want me to take the children or to go to court, but I never imagined that they would all show up here.
I shook myself out of my reverie, took a deep breath and turned my back to the group and faced the floor to ceiling windows which overlooked the grass lined parking lot.
Instead of the reprieve I expected to experience, I was hit in the stomach with another blow. My feet shook like jelly and I almost toppled over, as I used all my strength to keep my hands from flailing violently.
“It’s my father, he’s walking up the walkway.”
I was barely able to whisper the words to my attorney.
The next few moments are a blur to me.
Did the attorney escort me to the next room?
Did someone else come and help me?
The next memory I have is sitting in the babysitting room with a young woman talking to me in a soft voice.
“One breath in, and slowly breathe out.”
I sat there for some time, breathing in and out as my body slowly relaxed.
And then I was called into the courtroom.
I kept my eyes fixated on the judge. I did not dare turn my head to the left where my husband and his attorney were standing, his posse directly behind him.
I didn’t know if I would make it.
Would I be able to remain standing if I looked into my father’s disapproving eyes?
Would I be able to speak coherently if I paid attention to my daughter’s hateful gaze?
I continued focusing on the judge and my lawyer who was standing to my left.
“Beatrice’s father came all the way from Canada, since he is concerned about her mental health.”
I turned abruptly facing Moshe, as I heard his attorney mention my name, almost losing my balance as I held onto the courtroom table for support.
Were they serious? Is this how they intended to destroy me and take the children away from me?
I left the courtroom devastated.
How could my family, especially my father have betrayed me in this way?
I know that they didn’t agree with me leaving but still.
This.
For many months, I held onto this incredible betrayal.
I was angry.
I felt like a victim and sure that this was the worst thing that could have happened to me.
Couldn’t everyone see how terrible this was?
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As I look back, it is incredible to see how things have shifted for me.
As I create a life of freedom and choice for myself, I look back at that time as a source of inspiration and strength.
What drove me to choose to stand up for myself despite the incredible opposition?
How was I able to garner the strength to stand up for the rights of my children and me?
I now turn to that time as a lighthouse for the direction to take when I am afraid.
I drop into the feelings of bravery, courage and strength I had then and use that to guide my choices today.
My most devastating experience has now become my personal beacon of strength.
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Are you a bad-ass who has overcome incredible challenges in your life but are still carrying stories that are holding you back from living the life of your desires?
Are you carrying stories that are preventing you from fully living into the happiness of today?
Do you dream of a life of happiness where you are free from the demons of your past?
It is possible for you too.
