You think you know someone – then shit hits the fan one day and the stench is unbearable, too unpleasant to ignore. I started sniffing my husband’s bullshit just a few short months after marrying him. The repulsive odor arrived in the form of his lies that made absolutely no sense; an unattractiveness that manifested itself in his lack of ambition; his passive aggressiveness, for starters.
Things went okay for the first 6 months or so until my sumptuous, sweet-smelling poom poom (Jamaican for “vagina”) that naturally smelled like a bouquet of luscious Georgia peaches for 28 years, started reeking of freshly-caught ahi ahi and garbage. Yes, he gave me an STD. I had my first suspicions about his infidelity right then but after going to the Jamaican doctor, I was told it was a yeast infection and was prescribed the proper antidote.
Aside from the STD scare, other suspicious activity and strange happenstances kept occurring. My husband came home late often. He once told me he was shot at and stayed at his mom’s all night when he didn’t come home at all. He started to lock his phone. Instead of sex two times a day, it dwindled down to once a day/night. I had moved to HIS country to be with him and I was the one furnishing OUR home, buying all the food, paying for everything because he never had enough. I didn’t even receive cards or loving words on special occasions, yet I went all out for him on his birthday, Christmas, etc. I wrote it off, as I did with many things then, as cultural differences.
A few months later, we were ready to have our wedding ceremony. NOTE: we were married in a court office in Jamaica months prior and now, family was flying in for the actual ceremony. We both had money saved…or so I thought. The day before the wedding, he told me he lied about the money he saved and in fact didn’t have any saved at all. So, yes, I paid for the entire wedding!! My family and friends flew in from the States, I had my dress, wedding favors, already paid for the venue; there was no way I was not having this ceremony.
I forgave him (and his family) for all the drama surrounding our wedding—his family not showing up to the rehearsal dinner; him being late for his own damn wedding; his brother confessing his love for me during his speech – you know, the norm. After they witnessed our union, it didn’t take long for my husband’s Jamaican parents to start pressuring him to have children, and shortly after our wedding ceremony, we stopped employing the pull-out method. Which, the main reason we even appropriated that system for so long was because of me. There were too many red flags about this man that I just couldn’t ignore even after knowing him for so many years. My heart was no longer in the relationship because of suspicions I had as well as his irritating passive aggressive behavior and lies I knew in my heart he was telling but I could never prove.
Maybe it was the bliss of the wedding ceremony or having something to prove to my sorority sisters and family who were all in attendance. Maybe it was because I was starting to get comfortable with him. Whatever it was possessed me to let him come inside me. His super sperm impregnated me almost instantly. I was with child, in a foreign land, with no family or friends around…and this wasn’t even the worst of it all. In short, during my pregnancy (and shortly thereafter), I discovered and experienced several disturbing things:
In a massive slip up, he left his blackberry unlocked and I checked every single message sent to every single number over the past two weeks. Every one. One of them was a text to his best friend that read: “I think I might’ve got Indian preggers!” [I was 5 months pregnant].
I was constantly left at home, alone and feeling unsafe. I mean, I was an American living in Jamaica in a neighborhood where theft and rape was prominent. Not only do Jamaican men find pregnant women sexy, but also our back door didn’t lock. There’s a cute, American, pregnant woman alone at all hours of the nigh. I’m only left to deduce that he valued his mistress’s life more than his first child’s and mine. [I was 7 months pregnant].
My son could’ve been born blind because the Jamaican doctor misdiagnosed me and the yeast infection was actually Chlamydia that my husband gave me. Thank God I decided to leave Jamaica and have my child in the States because it was here that my doctor told me I had an STD. [I was 8 months pregnant].
A message from a woman whom my husband deemed as his stalker came at a most inopportune time. I was still suffering from a rough delivery along with a host of physical and emotional ailments related to the pregnancy and delivery. She mentioned that she had been having an affair with my husband while I was away in the States. She described intimate details and even knew I lost a lot of blood during delivery. She said my husband was only marrying me for a green card. It wasn’t far-fetched other than the fact that she was fat AND ugly. [A few weeks after I had my son].
After all of this – the countless excuses and lies, the infrequent calls to check on me (since I had moved back to the States to have our child while he was still living in his homeland, Jamaica), the fugly women that popped up out of nowhere – I found it in me somewhere to forgive him. My husband told me he must’ve had Chlamydia for a while, even before we got together. That was the thing, many of his excuses and lies sounded like plausible truth. The whole time we were together, my intuition was constantly pulling at me though because some things just didn’t add up. Something wasn’t right and I knew it, but I had no proof of his cheating or any hardcore evidence that he was telling lies…until Facebook slapped me with undeniable certainty!
On a visit to Jamaica when our son was a few months old (I had permanently moved back to the States and the plan was for my husband to join me after getting his Visa that was almost complete) we dedicated our son at his church. Again, something was off. Not only was he acting elusive, he didn’t want to have sex, so immediately I knew. There was someone else. But, he did not admit it and as far as we both knew, we were working on our relationship and looking forward to a future in the States together.
The Visa process was taking longer than expected so I took another trip to Jamaica so my husband could see his son. Our son was about 1 year old at this time. While at the villa I had some downtime and was catching up with friends on Facebook and I decided to look at my husband’s page. Some THOT “liked” one of his posts. There was nothing suspicious about it really, except for the girl’s name – a name he called me before in bed. I clicked on her profile and lo and behold…her whole background photo was a picture of MY husband holding a newborn child that looked JUST like him—a child that was most certainly not ours!
It took me two seconds to drive to where he was at, beat his ass in front of his nephew and sister, and leave him and never look back. I was angry for a time but that anger quickly turned into relief. I was actually relieved that I no longer had any moral obligation or tie to this monster. That my feelings and suspicions were finally validated.
All those years of questioning myself, harboring suspicions about my own husband…and it was a social media site that actually told me the truth. The truth – a rarity throughout my entire marriage. Thank you, Facebook, for being my own little private investigator…one that I didn’t even have to pay for. J
There is nothing kept secret that will not come to light Luke 8:17