The Judicial System Will Fail You

I didn't expect it. I thought (foolishly so) that if you live a good life, if you are an upright person, if you tell the truth, then justice will always win in the end. So I put on my dress, put a smile on my lips. This was going to work out okay! I had only the truth to tell and that was easy. That, and my life that I had lived with integrity to the best of my ability.

The smile quickly left me that day in August 2017. Dramatics. The courtroom and believability was not built on truth, but built on dramatics. Who could tell the story most convincingly? Who would present themselves most fervently? Not facts. Not honesty. But dramatics. And I wasn't the one versed on acting - I had gone in plainly, just as I was.

I watched in horror as lies were spun. Lies told so eloquently and smoothly, laced with "facts" that would convince anyone. Why was I surprised? I had seen those tricks before. Only those times, my role was to remain silent. My silence was to protect myself. But my silence, in those times, meant also I was a liar. And for a person who ranks honesty higher than most anything, it killed my soul. Still, I chose silence over and over again.

So why was I surprised that they happened this time? I guess it was because they were about a life I had shared with someone. I guess it was because they were about me. I guess I was just naive about what would happen that day.

The judge ruled. He slammed the door shut between me and my children - the children I had raised 95% of every day of their lives. I got up with them. I was all day with them. We ate dinner alone, the three of us. We went to bed alone. And suddenly now, I was yanked from them as if I had never been there at all. My little girls were suddenly no longer mine to raise except 4 solitary days a month.

My attorney (the one that I fired that day) never defended me. He never once stood up to fight for my honor. He had told me to not show emotion. "Be in control," he had said at the outset. But once the judge started speaking, I could have thrown the table over - I no longer cared to obey his rules. Sobs burst from me that shook the courtroom. Every single soul from the bailiff to the court transcriptionist to the opposing counsel, felt it. Every eye went to their desks and laps. They all knew at that moment that a woman was destroyed. And no one could say how it happened, except I knew. I knew it was because the truth was not heard that day.

The judicial system will fail you.

Something shook in me. I couldn't believe what had just happened. How?? I was a good person! I was an excellent mother!! How could this happen?

Weeks went by. Those 19 weeks of hell - will I ever write of them? I saw a side of darkness I never knew personally. They were the 19 weeks of hell.

Months later another court date. This time I would be prepared. Knowing what would most certainly come, I came prepared with facts. Documents. Recordings. Photographs. Data. Anything that could be spun so convincingly would be dismissed with the data I would bring.

And we won that day. It had been 19 weeks of hell to get to that day, and my hell (in that case) had ended, and we won. I was free to be free. But I still walked home empty handed without my little girls. Justice was now listening to me, but I needed to pay more. There was more work to be done. More battles to fight.

It continues. To this day it continues. I cannot stop the train on the tracks - it will never, ever end. But my faith in the judicial system is gone. It is like football. It is not merely a game of players who love the sport, and want to win. Oh how we all wish it were. It is rather just a business. How can the team franchise make the most money? Players are bought and sold.

It's the same with the judicial system. It doesn't matter who is telling the truth. There are deals to be done and victory notches to go on belts. Individual lives, well they are a means to an end. I am sad to say that. And I hope that there are truly people out there who care about justice and for those who deserve it, to win. But I don't believe in it anymore. I will continue to do my own battles, but I will not put my faith and trust in the judicial system to fight for me. Because to them, I am just a number in a sea of numbers. A face in a sea of faces. They may not want that to be true, but there are so many. I am just one of them.

But meanwhile, in my little world, two little girls. Two little girls light the night sky, they are brighter than the midday sun. Two little girls that I held in my arms as babies and promised them with all of my heart I would never fail to be the best mother to them - they are what matter most. These eyes of mine that fill up with tears every time they leave my hands. These eyes of mine that fill up with tears on random days that I know I am missing some new aspect of their lives I will never get back. These eyes of mine that fill up with tears hoping I did the very best for them - hoping I made all the right decisions that will better their lives. They are only my little ones for a season, and that is what matters most. Not if my truth is told. Not justice for me. Not victory. It may never come. But what matters are two little girls with brown hair. Two little girls with brown hair that their mother loves with all her heart and soul. And whether justice is served or it isn't, I want in the end two things to be known by them: I loved them with all my heart and soul. And I did my very best.