I Saved Him From Being Kicked Out Of The Army

*Steve’s chapter at Hunter Army Airfield (HAAF) in Savannah, Georgia started in November 2011 – months before I moved there. (“Chapter” means he was being kicked out). He lied to me and said it started in February 2012 after I’d already given up my apartment, car and job in London. The worst thing about it all, was he and I had discussed in detail in December 2011 that he would re-enlist to ensure we were financially stable, should I fall pregnant before finding a job. It was all more lies just to get me out there to be with him.

The reason for his chapter? Because he couldn’t be bothered to meet tape. In others words, he was told on many occasions to lose weight, but he didn’t. On top of this he was lazy and rude. All he wanted to do was chill out and sleep. No thought for his family.

During my ‘new life’ in Savannah, Steve told me he was being bullied at work by the two Sergeants he reported directly to. I’d been hearing this for quite some time, to include whilst I was still living in the UK, so suggested that he tell his Captain or First Sergeant. He refused. Said he was scared of the repercussions. I asked if he would like me to have a word, by which he said it would be better coming from me. So I did. I spoke to his Captain twice over the phone; and twice to his First Sergeant in person. It would be during one of the conversations with his First Sergeant, that I would find out the truth. Asking me when did I think his chapter started, quite rightly, I said February this year (2012) as this is what Steve had told me. The response was that his chapter had actually started in November last year (2011).

I broke down in tears. Why the hell did I give up my life in the UK? I explained that if it did go ahead, I’d have no medical cover to have my son and we’d be homeless. I continued to try to convince the First Sergeant otherwise. I had to. All the money we should have had was gone, with nothing to show for it, due to having to help him out of financial messes which had nothing to do with me. It was a heartbreaking situation to be in. I was in my second trimester and our future was uncertain. How could he do this? Of course, it was not his fault. It never was according to him, it was always someone else’s. I literally begged for his chapter to be reconsidered; “At least let him work out his contract and not be able to re-enlist” I sobbed… I was desperate and in a right state. I had no job, no money and now I was about to become homeless. To make matters worse, I was in pain. Attending physiotherapy, for the past few months or so, it was all too much for me. I was so afraid for my unborn child.

It wasn’t until July 2012 that Steve told me that his seniors had wanted to chapter him from when he was stationed in Germany. I couldn’t believe he had known all along that this was the plan. Bearing in mind he left Germany in February 2011, and had been begging me to give up my life in the UK to be with him for little over a year before I actually did, it would have been nice if he had told the truth. Especially as I found out later still, that he had known all along that he was transferring from Germany back to the US, but had told me otherwise. He’s clearly incapable of telling the truth about anything. (See “And So The Lies Begin”).

The First Sergeant must have felt sorry it for me. Steve was allowed to work out his contract to December 4th 2012. (He had accumulated 32 vacation days he hadn’t yet used, so his last working day was November 2nd). We had also been given 180 days of Tricare which would expire on June 2nd 2013, This meant I could have my son without the burden of thinking how I was going to pay the hospital bill (clearly, I couldn’t rely on Steve to pay or even help with the payments). We were initially told our son was due on December 12th 2012; then it was changed to December 18th. Regardless, it was a relief to have this extra medical cover… although it didn’t stop the the chain of events which was about to take place just six weeks before I was due to have our son.

(*Not his real name)

Our Trip To See His Daughter In Montana

We went to see his daughter in Montana in December 2011. It was a very uncomfortable experience. *Steve and *Dawn argued about him wanting joint custody. To be fair, she had every right to be defensive… this was only the third time he’d ever seen his five year old daughter. The only reason he was even there this time round, was because I forced the issue. Surely a father should make an effort to be in their child’s life, which includes seeing them. I made sure the hotel and flights were booked. It was all me trying to do the right thing by this child. I had a feeling something was going to go down, so told him in advance I wasn’t going to say anything nor was I going to get involved. And I didn’t until he turned to ask me what my opinion was one evening. I thought, “Good Lord, why me?”. My response was that they’re both adults and parents to the child. They need to work something out. He was not pleased with me to say the least. He was hoping I’d jump in and ride the drama train with him.

During our stay there which was 5 nights, Steve went about trying to sort things out with the child support office – something I had told him to do back in June when he had come to London to attend my mother’s wedding. How had this come about? He’d received an email from Dawn (I will not go into detail about what it was about as my blog is not about her), and started complaining to me that he was fed up with her contacting him about all sorts, asking him for this and that all the time. According to him, he paid child support, so what was the problem? I suggested that he should pay via Montana child support, that way there is no confusion about payments and there would be a log for each one. He didn’t.

It wasn’t too long before there was an eruption regarding the situation. Five months later to be precise, in November 2011. Personally, I never saw the letter, but according to him, Dawn had told the child support office that Steve had not being child support, sworn affidavit. The next thing I heard, was that she had said he had paid some months, but not for others. Again, I never saw proof of this, but I could only go by what he told me. Surely this wasn’t right. I mean, by now, he had given me access to his online pay slips, and I could see a Standing Order/ Auto Pay was set up for a set amount of money to be paid into his daughter’s account. I was confused to say the least.

When Steve visited the child support office, he was told he would have to pay more than he expected because due to being married to me, he was receiving Basic Allowance for Housing (BAH) from the army. It was counted as income. He had to get bank statements as proof that he’d been paying child support from October 2009; they weren’t bothered about prior to that, otherwise they were going to add arrears to his account. So, having access to his daughter’s account that he was paying child support into, he ordered statements going back as far as when the account was opened which was March 2009. The statements did indeed prove that payments had been made from the opening of the account. When we went to collect them, he conveniently had no money, so I had to pay for all the statements. No surprises there. It still didn’t get him out of the mess he was in, but at least he had the information they required.

What baffled me, was if his daughter was born in October 2006, why had he only been paying support since March 2009? What happened to the first two and a half years of her life? I had to ask. Steve’s response was he hadn’t trusted Dawn, so was unsure if the child was his or not. That there was no way he was going to pay for a child who didn’t belong to him, so he started paying after a paternity test proved positive. I just left it at that.

We left Montana upset because of a last minute commotion. It was heartbreaking because this is not what the trip should have been about. Once his family found out what had happened, he would tell me that they all blamed me, as he’d been to see his daughter twice before and there had never been any arguments. This was the last straw for me. I asked him how he would feel if I just stopped talking to his his family because I was sick of the things they were saying about me (see “Paying For His Car And More Lies“). It was hurtful and I needed to eliminate anything that was bringing me down. Of course he was happy for me take that step… part of his plan, no doubt. I would find out after we broke up that nothing of the sort was said. In fact, he had been telling contradicting stories to each of us to cover his tracks, blaming everyone around him except himself, sparing no one’s feelings but his own. Although, I’m not quite sure he has any…

One day out of the blue, he said he wanted full custody. He hadn’t wanted it before. But the truth came out after I fell pregnant (as did a lot of other things come to light too). He eventually told me he wanted full custody of his daughter so her mother would have to pay child support to him, and that as he was in a stable relationship with me, he would be granted it. What a bastard. It was all about the money, not the child. All this time, he’d made out he was a doting father missing his daughter because her mother wouldn’t allow him access to her. I refused; it wasn’t right and I told him so, adding that it would be wrong to take the child away from her familiar surroundings and from her half sister. On top of this, he wanted me to pay for his lawyer for the custody battle!

All this drama, hurt and stress for what? As soon as I said I didn’t agree with his demands of full custody, and refused to pay the lawyer, he stopped talking about his daughter altogether. Once again, he proved it was never about his daughter. It was always about what he could gain.

(*Not their real names)

He Wanted Me To Keep Quiet About His Behaviour

*Steve said that I had “saved” him. But it wasn’t too long before he realised I could see his web of lies were unravelling, so started threatening to kill himself because I wanted to leave him. When we were apart – him working in the US; me working in the UK – he’d go hours, sometimes a day or so, before sending me a message to let me know he was still alive. During this time, with no communication, I’d be frantic because I really thought he was going to commit suicide. I’d call countless times, but he wouldn’t answer his cell/mobile. This would become a regular occurrence.

It got so bad, I’d just not bother trying to call him any more. He accused me of not caring and frequently said I’d have to fight for him and/or the relationship. I remember asking him why I should as I wasn’t the one causing the majority of the arguments. When I was at fault, I would admit I was wrong and apologise. His response was so he could feel loved, respected and appreciated. What???? I’d shown him nothing but love, respect and appreciation! It just wasn’t happening the other way round!

I have to stress at this point, he thrives on drama. He did then and he still does now. When I didn’t want to participate, he would get really mad, telling me that I did not love him and that I was unsupportive. It was extremely draining. But after each threat of killing himself, he would eventually apologise, explaining that it was the stress of being in the army and constantly say that he was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). But he wasn’t then, and he isn’t now. Steve did serve in Iraq for a year, but he wasn’t in combat; he shifted ammo from one spot to the next. That was it. (His army career will be detailed in another post. You will see why I’ve come to my conclusion). He was apparently a better person when I was around him. He missed me so much it hurt so I have to forgive him. He’s never loved so deep before…

Steve tried to lay down rules I definitely wasn’t happy with. This is where the control factor really started to show and take it’s toll. He accused me of being the controlling one, and went on to tell who would listen this untruths. When we married by proxy, he wanted me to change my surname to that of his, but I didn’t want to. So what did he do? He told the company to change my surname! So I wear his name on the marriage certificate. However, when we went to open joint accounts together (so when he got his pay checks in, I would ensure his bills were paid in a timely manner and to help him rebuild his ruined credit), I told the clerk I wanted to use my birth name. Steve insisted I used his. The clerk could see how uncomfortable I was, so she told him she could only go by the name on my I.D.’s. What a relief. My British passport and driver’s licence were (and still are) in my birth name. Problem solved!

He wanted me to send an email to *Dawn, his daughter’s mother after our disastrous trip to Montana. When I refused, he created an email account using his surname – persia**********@yahoo.com (I’ve chosen not to reveal his surname for the sake of my son and his family). After doing so, he told me again to send an email from the address I’ve been using for years, dictating what he wanted me to say. Failure to do so would result in him sending one from the account he’d created. The worst part about that? He wouldn’t tell me the password, so he was the only one with access to the account. This meant he could say whatever he wanted to. For those who did not know me well, would be none the wiser, so would assume that I had indeed, sent the email(s). I continued to refuse his demand. Whether or not he sent and email from that address is anyone’s guess. He did give me access to the account several days later. I couldn’t see that he’d sent any messages, however, there is the possibility he did and deleted the evidence.

What was it with him? Why was he was so determined for me to bare his surname? It was really getting out of hand. He’d even had me listed with the army as his spouse with the wrong surname. That was, until I corrected it with my legal documents.

Steve didn’t want me to talk to anyone about what was going on, because it was “our business, not anyone else’s”. He went ballistic if he even had an inkling that I’d talked to someone about us, and often accused me of having done so when I hadn’t.

(*Not his real name)

Portraying Himself As A Loving Husband And Father

(*Steve took this picture as we lay together. I was unaware until afterwards as I had my eyes closed).

He loved to make out that he was a perfect husband/father when it came to family. He’d post on Facebook how he missed and loved me, not to mention, for some bizarre reason, he would publicly apologize to me via the same method. Not that he meant any of them of course. It was just a set up for what was to happen soon. Steve would also write poems and prayers for me so everyone could see them, declaring his love for me, telling me I’m the only woman he’s actually ever loved and liked; not “kinda liked or kinda loved”, he just straight up loved me. In a nutshell, I was the love of his life! He couldn’t ever imagine those feelings going away and quite frankly, it frightened him.

Steve would also have a comparison of his own baby photo to that of his daughter’s as his profile picture, to say how they looked alike. Not to mention, he would talk about his daughter saying how her mother *Dawn made his life hell because she wouldn’t let him see her. I must admit, I did feel sorry for him because I couldn’t understand why (according to his version of the story), she would do that. If a father wants to be active in his child’s life, he pays Child Support and calls his child regularly, surely her mother would be a bit more reasonable? I would later learn a different story…

(Steve helping to decorate the hall at my mother’s wedding. See “My Mother’s Wedding”).

When I met his army colleagues, he’d twirl me around and boast to them as if I was some sort of trophy. I hated it. In fact, I told him so. He wasn’t buying my clothes nor was he supporting me at the time (and for the several months he was, he didn’t do a good job, but I will go into that later). Everything he was showing off about wasn’t any of his own doing, so I had no idea why he felt the need to behave in such a way. It made me feel uncomfortable. He acted the same way at my mother’s wedding. I suppose it was his way to show publicly how much he appreciated and loved me. Or so he wanted people to think. Not to mention, that he wanted to come across as cool, calm and collective, so when things did kick off and s**t hit the fan, people would think I was the aggressive one. I suppose looking back on it, it was a part of the plan all along, because once I left him for good, he would publicly tell on Facebook – tagging in nearly one hundred people might I add – that I was the abusive one. Again, this is something I will go into detail later on.

(*Not their real names)

Paying For His Car And More Lies

 As well as having to pay for my Green Card from the ’emergency/rainy day fund’ (See “My Green Card Application“), I had to save his car. Considering the amount of money that had passed through his hands leading up to the purchase of his vehicle (see “Western Union Money Order“), the onus shouldn’t have been on me to pay the outstanding balance on his car, but it was our only mode of transport. I really wasn’t happy about it.

How did this come about? Well he was extremely rude to his family. I’m a true believer in the saying “Never bite the hand that feeds you”. *Steve’s step-mother didn’t have to go through the lengths she did to help him out, and took a risk signing for this loan on his behalf. Rather than be grateful, he said some really awful things via private message on Facebook (he was going to post it publicly, but I told him not to. In fact, I told him not to send the message at all as I felt it was wrong), to which his step-mother sent and email requesting he pay the balance of the loan full. To make things worse, he was on his step-mother’s car insurance, so she told him he would have to take out his own insurance policy. I couldn’t understand why he would treat someone like that after she had done so much for him. I did ask and his response was that it ran deeper than what I’ve seen and know. What could I say to that? I really didn’t know the ins and outs of it all, so I certainly couldn’t argue about that.

(Email between Steve and his step-mother).

Steve’s response to the email was that I had brought money with me from the UK, so was able to pay the outstanding balance in full (which was most of it), without him having to get a loan. The thing is, he couldn’t get a loan! He had bad credit from being overdrawn/negative on his prior account all the time. I noticed that he had said, and I quote: “Oh and we didn’t take out a loan for it, Persia (you know my bullying abusive wife that everyone dislikes so much) brought enough from the UK and paid off the loan… she is such a horrible person!!!”. This really baffled me as I didn’t get the impression that they thought I was a bully or abusive – In fact I have no idea where he got this notion from. He had sent this email without me seeing it first.

This explains a lot. I was to find out later that he had been telling his family untruths about me, as he was telling me untruths about his family. He didn’t like the fact that we all got along really well, excluding him. Steve really stooped low. So low with lies, that I stopped talking to his family. Crying, I was so stressed out from the things he was telling me. He told me his father called me a “nigger” and said I was stuck up; his father also said I was using him for a Green Card (bearing in mind I didn’t want to leave England in the first place); that his sisters said it was my fault that he didn’t talk to his daughter; his step-mother simply didn’t like me… the list goes on. He had nothing to say about what his mother had said because they hadn’t been talking to each other for a while, for their own reasons. I was devastated. I couldn’t understand why they hated me so. It was all lies of course. Simply a part of Steve’s plan to isolate me. I realised this during my pregnancy when Steve told me to give up my family and friends saying I didn’t need them. He was my family and I was his and when our son was born, that our family would be complete.

By this point, I just didn’t care what he was capable of and said he must have eaten a bowl of crazy for breakfast. I told him straight up that it was not going to happen. No doubt it scared him a little, because I sure as hell didn’t comply with this demand.

(*Not his real name)