Archive for April, 2017

You did your best to ruin it for us. So caught up in your jealousy and insecurities. You pulled out all the stops. I’ve never quite figured that part out because (thank God) I do not and cannot think like you. Why, when you pretty much screwed anything with a dick (regardless of age or you being a “teacher”) while you were married to him, did it upset you so much to see him happy? You were not a wife to him. You barely fit the definition of a mother. You repeatedly put his children in dangerous and unhealthy situations. Yet, somehow, in that warped mind of yours, you were the victim.

You are incapable of accepting responsibility for your actions. That has always fascinated me. Everything is always someone else’s fault. One of our attorneys used to say that you believed your own lies. For years, I couldn’t wrap my head around that statement. Now I have come to see it is true. You do believe your own lies and you can spin some dandies!

For instance, you would tell the kids that I was the reason that you and Daddy were not together. You had to come up with some story I suppose because you certainly couldn’t have told them the truth…”Mommy is a raging whore who spreads her legs for anyone willing to jump between them and Daddy isn’t going to put up with that anymore.” Never mind that I didn’t come into the picture until well after your divorce was final. Don’t worry, they’re adults now. Whether they choose to admit it to themselves or not, they realize the truth.

What about telling them that I “took them from you”? Telling these little kids that I am the reason they could not live with you after their Dad got custody, when they were all still elementary school age. How disgusting is that? Who does that to little kids? Without blinking an eye, you repeatedly victimized your own children.You vilified their father and denigrated the only stable home they had known. Once again, you couldn’t be truthful about your actions, could you? You would have had to admit things such as: “Mommy has sex with high school boys.” “Mommy leaves you alone in the middle of the night without supervision.” “Mommy doesn’t have enough money to pay bills because she has no understanding of money management.” (How about that you can’t even do a simple excel spreadsheet? Damn I am glad we don’t have to try anymore to make sense of that shit you would send over for medical/dental billing. Ugh!)

But here’s what you didn’t know then and still don’t know now. You don’t know me. You will never know me. In over 17 years, you’ve never once had the balls to have a face to face conversation with me. Not even while we were sitting in the same room. Not even while we were in court ordered family counseling. You have gone to my husband with complaints about me, but never once came to me. You have talked about me in class at the school where you are supposed to be teaching. You have spoke about me during activities out in the community with the kids to other parents. You have continuously and consistently pumped your children for any shred of information, the tiniest detail about me, that they could produce. Sickening. And you keep forgetting what a small community we live in. Word travels fast.

So, let’s clear up your confusion. Let me address your misgivings in writing since you are too much of a chicken shit to ever say something straight to my face.

1) I’m not the kind of woman to mess with “someone else’s man”. I’ve never experienced a shortage of men interested in dating me. Not bragging, just saying. Furthermore, I wouldn’t want any man who was with another woman and trying to get me on the side. If they do it with you, they’ll do it to you. To me he would be a lowlife, and I deserve better. No home wrecker here.

2) You lost custody of your children because of your actions. Your lust for teenage boys got you in hot water, not me. Did I try to get you fired from your teaching position? You damn right I did! Any decent person would want you removed from any position giving you access to and/or influence over kids of any age. It is beyond my comprehension that you are still teaching. But fear not, the truth always comes out sooner or later. And shame on each and every teacher and administrator that knows of your vile history and has helped cover it up.

3) Your pathetic attempts at getting personal information from the kids was repulsive. You even went so far as to actually try to get your oldest son to find out where on my body my tattoo was located. I can just imagine what your deviant mind was hoping to do with that information. Here’s a news flash for you…solid, respectable woman do not tell little boys about their personal body markings. Not ever!

4) I will admit I have enjoyed messing with you a bit from time to time. Perfect example, all your calls or emails to my husband about properties we were looking at, congratulating us. Especially funny given my profession. We never shared or discussed anything of a personal nature in front of them or even while they were with us in the house for that matter. It had to be that way. Perfect example of this is my classic Mustang. For years I had a 1964-1/2 Mustang K code classic car. One of the daughters would have loved that car! She would have begged to ride in it and drive it. Sadly, she never even knew we had it. You probably would have gone out and started buying classic cars the way you started trying to buy luxury cars after I bought my Mercedes. We kept things private because we knew the kids would be interrogated by you the minute they got home. We simply let you jump to conclusions based on our activities filtered through the eyes of your envy. You get so caught up trying to make people think you’re wealthy. That’s your game, not mine.

You can put what you know about me in a thimble. You don’t know the people I associate with personally or professionally. My friends or associates aren’t going to talk to you. You don’t know my assets and resources. I made sure of that very early on. If you could have gotten child support from my income, you would have. Scavenger that you are. Remember when you had your attorney ask in court if I intended to buy a Porsche? Did I buy that Porsche? You don’t know because it’s simply none of your damn business. You don’t know what I own because you don’t know me. You don’t know where, how or when I travel. Rest assured, our paths are not likely to cross. Even the most obvious things about me you can’t know because what you do think you know was pieced together from bits and pieces you squeezed out of children. Pathetic.

No, you don’t know me. You never will.