I walked into the living room and grabbed Simone’s keys. I wanted him to leave, and I needed a safe space for myself. I had prided myself for being in control of my life, and the reality couldn’t have been more different. It was an absolute fucking disaster. The evidence was right in front of me. Right next to me, in fact. But not for long.
Simone went into the garage. I wondered if he was going to take my car, a 600 class Benz that he had convinced me to buy for ninety thousand dollars. Years later, after I had taken over my own accounting, I learned that I could have leased it and written off approximately seventy percent. I also realized that I could no more afford that car than I could a private jet. Simone and I were living in an even more opulent house than before, and I had signed a two-year lease. But booking American Horror Story had given me the sense that more opportunity was up ahead. I had tried so hard to create something with Simone, but it wasn’t manifesting and I knew why. I hadn’t listened to my heart when I walked into that courtroom that day and married him; my soul had burst out crying. Now, as I watched him walk around the backyard in a comedown haze, I didn’t shed a single tear. Instead I felt relief.
I continued to watch Simone through the glass bedroom doors. It was a beautiful ranch-style home, and the side of the house that faced the backyard was pretty much glass; it was gorgeous. Simone had come around to the backyard and was pleading with me to let him in. He was upset about the coyotes in the backyard, which were a figment of his delusional imagination. Compassion and capitulation were always my go-tos, but I wanted to flip the script here. I was pissed. I was done living this life. How dare he stay out all night, come home early in the morning, and walk into the bedroom like he was going to sleep without any explanation? Was I supposed to accept that because we were married?
Way down in my gut I was always suspicious, but never did anything about it. However, as I’d heard people say, the Universe is always trying to communicate with us, and when we still aren’t listening, it will, one way or another, make the lesson so apparent that you have no choice but to pay attention. Well, the Universe had my attention. Working on American Horror Story had given me a glimpse into what more could come of my life by believing in myself. I supposed that had always been the issue. I had never believed in myself enough to fight back, to say no, to say no more, no fucking way.
I packed Simone’s clothes while he continued to walk around outside. I went into the kitchen; he watched me from outside the window. I called his mother and told her that it would probably be in Simone’s best interests if she called him. I sensed he needed to hear from her, I explained. After I hung up, Simone was standing near me, mortified. He couldn’t believe that I had called his mother. But you know what? He needed help. It just wasn’t going to come from me anymore.
After a while, Simone left. He took the suitcase I packed with some of his clothes. I gathered the rest for him to take another time. The house was quiet and still. I walked over to the side of my bed and sat down on the platform. I must have been in shock; I couldn’t believe my marriage was over and I was going to have to go through another divorce. And this house. How was I going to afford this house? What was I going to do?
I felt overwhelmed, like giant weights had settled on my shoulders and were pushing me down. But then, suddenly and out of nowhere, I just stopped. I stopped everything and I said out loud to the Universe, “Bring it. ’Cause I don’t care anymore. I’ll find a way. Throw whatever you want at me, I’ll figure it out. I will figure it out!”
At that moment, I felt invigorated, energized, and something I hadn’t felt in as long as I could remember. I felt strong. I suppose I was always strong without knowing it, but now I knew it. I wasn’t going to allow the fear to enter my thoughts, my life, my being. I would find another way. I didn’t need anyone in my life. I might choose to have someone in it, but I didn’t need someone.
I had no idea what my next steps would be. But I felt such faith that I would make it through.
That faith was tested as soon as I initiated divorce proceedings. I found a lawyer willing to handle both Simone and me for a set fee, which was economical and efficient, as we really had nothing to dispute. But Simone decided to get his own attorney. This put me in a difficult financial position. Because I was considered the breadwinner, I had to pay all costs. Since he knew as well as I did the limit of my assets, I felt like he did that purposely to make me suffer. His demands included the use of my car for six months and seventeen thousand dollars a month in support, a ridiculous amount that, again, I thought was meant only to antagonize me. I had no interest in engaging in a fight. I wanted to cut ties and move on with my life as quickly and smoothly as possible. No more games. No more nonsense. I spoke to Sigal, who helped get me out of the two-year lease I had signed, and I began to channel my energy into mending my life.
And that’s when I met Sal.