Ugly Girl

The morning of court was foggy…

It was so foggy neither of the lawyers could fly in to attend court, they would be calling in. It’s a common occurence in the north, so my husband’s lawyer wasn’t too upset. We finished getting ready and headed over to the small courthouse. ‘The whore’ was sitting outside in her car when we got there, talking on her phone. I followed my husband in, fighting the urge to wave to her as we passed.

The voices in my head were loud and fighting back and forth. I was singing ‘Little Bunny Foo Foo’ in my head, trying to keep them at bay. I had sung the song to all my kids, had actually sung it while delirious and in labor with my oldest son, and was blocking out the voices by “scoopin’ up the field mice, and boppin’em on the head”…don’t judge it worked. I stayed calm and on my feet.

We walked to the front of the room and sat down, and soon after ‘the whore’ and her huge entourage walked in…two whole people came with her. I kept waiting for more to show up, and I was shocked when the court stayed empty. If I was in court facing a man who had stalked and harassed me, making me fear for not only my safety but my children’s? I would have had a court full of supporters…my friends, my family, and my husband would have been there. Instead in walked her ‘best friend’ and her mom, no ex-husband who she was back with, no sister, no other friends.

I guess I wouldn’t have had a crowd if there was a chance of the emails being read, the ones we had supplied didn’t shed a pretty light on ‘the whore’ and didn’t support her ‘story’. I have often wondered what excuse she gave her ex-husband for not wanting him there? “Hey you can’t come cuz it might make you realize how often I cheated on you and that I’m a dumb, lying whore…and I really, REALLY LOVE YOU…now…cuz otherwise I’m stuck in the trailer park with my mom. So please just go to work, I will let you know how it goes…”

When they had my husband and ‘the whore’ take their seats at the front of the court? ‘The whore’ got the lucky seat directly in front of me. She sat there with the woman assigned to give her support (she was a battered and stalked woman remember, terrified of my husband, so she had a woman who sat on the side of the table closest to my husband, good use of your tax dollars) and as she raised her hand to be sworn in? She shook and was asked to speak up, as her voice cracked she sounded so sad and scared, playing the victim card to the max. I straightened my shoulders, and adjusted my face…I unlike her would not be viewed as the victim. I wanted the judge to see a strong woman, not a meek crying wife, who deserved pity ( have I mentioned I hate pity?)

‘The whore’ should have hired a lawyer sooner, should have gone over her testimony more, should have done her homework…instead of painting my husband as a violent stalker? She got caught up in trying to make me look bad and hurt me. I get it I do…I hurt her feelings and she wanted payback. It was working too, I struggled as I sat in the courtroom…not to giggle as she messed up her own case.

“She was nice at first, then he sweet talked her and she started calling me a whore.” She whined in her nasally voice upset. 

“I know it’s her sitting behind me because she sent me a picture of herself in a bathing suit in an email asking ‘why would he ever choice me when he has her’.” She cried to the judge. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at her. Instead I sat there looking prim and proper, not even a twitch of a smile. I’m sorry she didn’t like my picture…I didn’t care for the ones she had sent me of not only my husband…but my kids.

Finally she started telling her tale of star-crossed lovers, and how wonderful their relationship was. It took all my self-control to not look under my bench for Ashton Kutcher…I was on ‘Punked’ , it was the only explanation. Why else was she talking dreamily of their time together? Then it hit me, she was trying to hurt me and in doing so she was losing her case before my husband ever said a word. Finally her lawyer steered her back on the path of victim, he then called her mom as a witness.

Up waddled her mom, and she was sworn in…she was such a blessing for us. My husband’s lawyer asked her about the text message she had sent me, claiming how wonderful my husband was, and about the ‘other men’ who loved her daughter and her babies. At first she tried to claim she hadn’t sent me the text and I fell in love with my husband’s lawyer.

“Who did you send it to if not Kelly? Did you send it to his children?” His lawyer asked her.

“No I would never send that to his children!!!” Bat shit crazy exclaimed. But you would to his distraught wife? She looked so sweet and classy.

“So you sent it to his wife?” His lawyer hounded her.

“Yes, but I have others too, and ones she sent me.” She responded hastily but his lawyer had already moved on.

“And these other men you are referring to? The ones ‘the whore’ was with too, who loved her and ‘your babies’.  That would be ‘The whore’s ex-husband?” his lawyer asked sweetly.

“Um…no.. men other than him..” she responded quietly.

She also did damage to her daughter’s case by  her claims of standing outside ‘the whore’s’ bedroom door for over an hour, while my husband and her daughter argued in the middle of the night..her screaming she was going to call me, him pleading with her not to…a whole hour she stood there in the dark listening, she testified under oath. Not ten minutes, half an hour, but 60 minutes she assured the judge, she had stood there out of fear for her daughter. No…she never knocked, opened the door or tried to help her…she just stood there listening concerned. No… my husband hadn’t yelled, her daughter was yelling because he hadn’t divorced his wife. No.. he wasn’t threatening just asking her to calm down and not call his wife.  She had  went from denying sending me the text, to admitting it in a matter of minutes and then had confirmed her daughter was a whore to the court.  

Her lawyer was an Asshole (my opinion), and he made me angry…furious. The whole time he questioned my husband about our marriage? He would do this chuckle thing under his breath.

“So Mr. Husband you are married, ha ha, and yet had an affair with ‘Mrs. Whore’?”

“You lied to your wife, snicker, about your relationship with ‘Mrs. Whore’ ?”

On and on he went mocking our marriage, calling my husband a liar, trying to get a rise out of him…my husband never lost his cool and calmly answered the questions. Me? I was fuming,.. how dare he put my marriage on trial, laugh at our relationship, judge my family? I like to think if he was standing in court he would have quit, he would have been able to see me sitting there expressionless and have known it wasn’t working…I was not going to react, not going to give them the satisfaction of showing emotion…I WOULD NOT CRY.

As the whore sat in front of me with her badly dyed red hair, curled into rings…her fat arms squeezed into a two-sizes too small short-sleeved jacket…lying  and whining until my voices were so loud, not even “Bunny Foo Foo” could drown them out. So Finally I gave in and fantasized about what I would do if my life was a “Real Lifetime Movie”.

Crazy Kelly jumped over the rail and I grabbed ‘the whore’ by her dark roots, she looked up at me in shock as I tackled her to the ground. I wrapped my hands around her throat and started banging her head against the concrete floor.

“This is for sleeping with my husband!!!” I reared back my fist and punched her in the mouth.

“This is for feeding me shit pie!!!” I screamed while dropping my elbow into her throat.

“And this is for being a lying whiny whore and making me listen to your voice all morning!!” I head butted her and felt her nose break under my forehead.

Finally I stood and looked down at her bloody face as she sobbed. Her mother grabbed my arm and I turned towards her in a pivot, my body remembering an old cheerleading move from 21 years before, reared back my foot and kicked her in her stomach, bringing her to her knees as it connected with her gastric bypass scar. I saw the shock in the judges eyes as I smiled up at him and turned back to the whore.

I pulled back my foot and yelled “THIS IS FOR MY KIDS YOU BITCH!!!” and I kicked her with all my strength, right in the head.

I watched in amazement as her head went flying across the room like a bloody soccer ball, laughing loudly as blood poured from her limp body, I started kicking it around the aisles, yelling “Score” every time it crossed in front of her mom.

“I’d like to call Kelly as a witness…” I heard my husbands lawyer say. I sat up straight and looked around the courtroom, brought back from my fantasy by a less fun reality.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my jacket, and walked up to the empty seat beside my husband. Raising my hand, I swore to tell the whole truth “so help me God.”

“When I saw you at the grocery store
You were sharing a shopping cart with her
And I couldn’t turn and run away, I didn’t know what to say

You introduced us for the first time
And I had to look her in the eye
But you could not imagine my surprise, can’t you see

You’re leaving me for an ugly girl

Does she talk about politics
And all the stuff that used to make me sick
Does she smoke cigars and stay up late, oh, she’s so great

Does she tell you what you want to hear
And I bet that she can grow a beard
I’d feel better thinking you were queer, it’s not fair

I can’t compare to an ugly girl
To an ugly girl

The jokes on me
I feel jealous and I feel mean
Is she so nice that it makes up for her face, there’s no way

Do you have to keep your eyes closed
Do you have to keep the lights down low
Oh, I bet you wish you had a blindfold, can’t you see

You’re leaving me for an ugly girl
For an ugly girl
She’s an ugly girl, a real ugly girl

She’s an ugly girl, an ugly girl
She’s an ugly girl

-Fleming and John-

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8 Responses to Ugly Girl

  1. You are an amazing and strong person. I hung on every word of this post, and could imagine myself exactly in your shoes. We narrowly escaped having to go to court, and if the cyber-bully crap doesn’t stop we may find ourselves there yet. You brought tears of laughter to my eyes with your description of beating her up. It really is so crazy to be hated simply for the fact that we EXIST. Because we won’t hand our husbands, our marriages, our lives over to a whore. And we are made to PAY for that.

    • I’m not amazing or anything special, just a mom and a wife who refused to stop trying. Trying to fix my marriage, trying to heal my kids, and trying to find my happiness again. I’m still not there, healing sucks…it hurts, and it takes FOREVER!!! Do you write a blog? If not you should, I’d love to read your story. Hugs to you, if it helps I can beat up your whore too 🙂 Would you like me to punt her head like a football or smash it in with a court room chair?

      • Healing does suck! I liked the old reality. I HATE adjusting to this new one, where I was foolish for believing him and got taken for a ride. Actually, I just lied. I can look myself in the mirror and say I was everything a wife should be. I trusted him, supported him and believed in him. He’s the one that has to TRULY live with what he did.

        No, I don’t blog. I wish I did. On d-day I somehow was coherent enough to stammer out a list of absolutes. I said they would work in both directions. One of them was transparency, but I did tell him I had an email account that I was using for support boards/blogs, and he would not have access to that. The one thing he asked was that I not blog. It made sense at the time, because the whore had lawyered up and was getting ready to unleash a barrage of nasty accusations (all false) unless we came up with major cash to buy her out of the business my husband foolishly started with her. She has bullied me and my two older children (anonymously) on social media to the point where we shut most of it down. I even had to delete my pinterest account. We are almost two years past d-day, and in a lot of ways starting to blog would feel like a step back, not to mention I could never be sure that she hadn’t found it. She has taken enough. She doesn’t need to see how much this all hurt me. I don’t want to be a blog hog, but if you want, I can share some of the story with you in a comment.

        Choices, choices! You’d better go with the court room chair. She’s a big one.

  2. Michelle says:

    OMGosh! This should be made into a screen play and then a movie! I cant wait to read your next entry.

  3. Kat Hat says:


  4. Lol okay? I’m not a very good hider I guess?

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