The biggest betrayal of all times...part 2

For days I couldn't figure out how to approach this next piece...did I want to start with the image of a 6'2, 185 pound soaking wet man running down the steps scantily dressed (or not) in the rain searching frantically in the grass for a phone in one of the worst rainstorms KC has experienced this year? Or do I give you the image of the dopey, young Caucasian chick who was crushed to hear that her beau was actively sleeping with other women?

Decisions.

Before I go any further, I want to remind everyone that this blog isn't about exposing him. If that was my intention, I would have used his name. This is about women having to heal and rebuild after the same men God sent to protect, provide and love us, have intentionally damaged us. It's about women who don't mind dating men who aren't as educated as us-because school isn't for everyone. Or the ones who aren't as financially stable as us, because we have our own money. We do these things not because we are dummies, gullible or naive; but because by nature most of us are lovers and nurturers. And people make mistakes. A perfect human does not exist. So, when a man says and shows you that he's willing to change we typically believe them. We love hard, we forgive easily and most importantly, we give them grace because the world doesn't...and this is STILL the bullshit hand that we are sometimes dealt. 

As much of an open book as I am, very few people know that one week ago today, I threw in the white flag. The blog and the roundtable were fun, and definitely shifted the trajectory of my career (my books and t-shirts sold out, the blog has over 13,000 page views and the roundtable has over 8,200 views across all platforms and running); but imagine arguing with a delusional nigga who STILL sees no error in his ways. Or spending 72 hours communicating with a chick being disrespected in ways I could not imagine who doesn't have the courage to leave. Or discovering that this guy actually has a LIVE IN GIRLFRIEND (Mon-Thurs) in combination with filtering through over 100 emails, inboxes and text messages filled with 'me too' stories…

The shit is draining and mentally taxing. 

Fun fact that I'm sure he hasn't disclosed because he is intent on being the victim here: he knew there would be a blog and he was aware that I intended to turn it into a book. He actually reached out to me and we agreed that I would never use his name, confirm or deny his identity publicly and I would never use his book cover to promote mine. Well technically, he doesn't have a book cover-cause after 5 or 6 years of not producing it’s more like a picture or a fantasy unfulfilled. But nonetheless, we reached mutual grounds.  In exchange he asked for a couple days to get his affairs in order and he agreed to answer any questions I had, as long as I didn't publicly talk about them. His exact words were, 'SJ, get your money. I get it. But I have kids, my kids might read this.  Come on now. `` 

I agreed and all was well...until he snapped.

"I contacted my Westside OG (name known but withheld out of respect) and he told me the next time you popped off to drop his name." 

It was at that moment I realized shit had gone too far. I know too many women who had fallen victim to a man's fragile ego and were no longer alive to tell their side of the story. Between being a Police Officer, a Correction Officer and a Domestic Violence Advocate; I have seen it all and I am constantly reminded that there are some sick people in this world. People whose power, influence and public image are all they have and they will go to extremes to protect it. And on the flip side, my reality is that there are people who don't play about me and I knew one phone call in response to his threat would absolutely escalate this situation. So HUMBLY I decided to stand down. Enough was enough. I live an amazing life and raising my baby, drama and care-free is of the utmost importance to me; more so than calling this clown out. So, I texted and told him I was done. 

Despite our verbal agreement, he didn't stop. Not only was it confirmed that he sent someone to report my FB page which subsequently resulted in a 30-day block, he also played a role in my email account being hacked. But the icing on the cake was when he helped one of his women create a fake page to post an anonymous message with no other intention than to discredit and embarrass me.  But I knew what he was capable of. When 3-year chick messaged me, his response was to send me her mugshot, told me about her embezzlement case and the blog she wrote justifying it. He even went so far as to tell me intimate details about her divorce, her ex-boyfriends, even things about her children. His exact words were, "I'm not saying go after her. But if you decide to, here is the ammunition you need."...I knew he had no boundaries. 

The quote by Ann Lamott that I based part one of this blog on, came directly from HIS page October of 2014 and it said, "You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

So....here we are.

Where we left off last time, I was walking out of the house with some shit on my mind and some shit in my hand.

But let me take y'all back to the start of the weekend so this all makes a little more sense.

When I arrived at his home, I was greeted with hugs, kisses and he truly seemed excited to see me. It was the middle of the work day so we both immediately jumped on laptops to complete our tasks and once I finished, I went to take a nap. Instantly I noticed a musty smell on the covers, something I never smelled before but I chopped it up as him being a bachelor and his items simply needing to be laundered; I instantly passed out. At some point he joins me briefly then prepares to leave back out because his daughter had a game. We said our goodbyes and I went back to sleep. When he called asking if I was dressed, I jumped up frantically because I had overslept and in doing so, I knocked my phone on the floor. When I bent down to get it, I noticed a white object under the bed and without thinking I grabbed it to put it in its rightful place. It wasn't until it was already in my hands that I realized it was a soiled pair of panties. I could still smell the perfume on them. 

Oddly, I didn't react (talk about growth). I simply took a picture of them, placed them on his laptop and went to the fridge to pour myself a drink. When I opened the fridge, the 1st thing I noticed was that it was full of things that I know he didn't buy. All of these snacks and expensive bottles of water-I knew some woman had gone shopping for him. I mean you do not go from refilling old bottles with tap water to purchasing $3 bottled waters; you just don't. I also noticed a half empty bottle of red wine; he doesn't drink wine. I simply sent him a picture of the panties and said, "the universe is working against you right now" with a crying face emoji. 

He replied, “I know and I'm sorry. But I can explain.”

That night when he passed out, I went through his phone because I simply needed to know. The things I found in that phone absolutely devasted me. All this time I assumed he was seeing a couple of people, we both were, but that night I discovered 12 women he had seen or made plans to see in the past week and at least 5 whose inbox he was in introducing himself-the same way he did me. Again, I didn't react.

Saturday, we had an amazing time; probably one of the best times we had ever spent together. The morning was spent having a full fledged concert in the living room  attended by only us two-we jammed to Bryson Tiller, his favorite and danced, drank and sang for hours until it was time for dinner. He had made reservations for dinner, which was followed by cocktails on a rooftop and a night at a local nightclub. I enjoyed my time but as the evening progressed his behavior became increasingly odd. All of a sudden, he developed the smallest bladder known to man. I mean dude went to the bathroom easily 10 times in a matter of a few short hours (in actuality he was making phone calls) and he was texting nonstop. Something, somewhere was blowing up and he was trying to handle it while still entertaining me. Again, I didn't react.

When we made it back to his house, I packed my belongings and sat them near the stairs and laid down fully dressed. If he wasn't managing a relationship crisis across town, he would have noticed the huge switch up in our Saturday night regime, but he didn't. All throughout the night I kept feeling him jumping up and running out the room. Rather it was to the bathroom, outside to his car, he even randomly baked cookies at 2am and he was pacing frantically in and out of the living room. Something was definitely happening.

Once I left Sunday, I parked my car on a church lot less than a mile from his home as I prepared to send a text message to 12 unsuspecting women that would either free them or at the very least guide them on how to handle him going forward. The message was not nasty, it was not accusatory, and it contained nothing but the facts. But still I hesitated and the reality of what I was doing hit me full force. Was I being mean and messy? Was I doing something that would actually cause these women more pain and distress than he already had? Was I prepared to deal with his reaction once he realized what I had done? At the end, it was the thought of these clueless, in love women being lied to and misled that just didn't sit well in my spirit. These were all beautiful, educated, successful women and some had devoted YEARS with this man for him to only be concerned with more notches on his belt. The thought of the heightened level of manipulation, the emotional abuse that narcissist dish out so easily, the STD breeding pool that was being created, possible pregnancies and unclaimed kids.... I had to act. They deserved better.

But I questioned myself.

My best friends are men, I know the game...it's been ingrained in me for years. I should have known better. But somewhere out of vulnerability, or maybe even stupidity I entertained a man who later proudly boasted that he hadn't been "faithful to a bitch in 25 years."

Again, I was devastated.

Suddenly the phone rang. 

"Hello" I said, "Please SJ tell me you are lying" she said. This lady, 4-year chick (who oddly enough no one knew existed) explained to me that she had been dating him exclusively for 4 years and that she was last intimate with him 10 days prior; she admitted they had never used protection. From there I received calls and messages from the majority of the women I contacted. No one was nasty, there were no attitudes, and everyone seemed to be seeking the same thing.....confirmation. 

As with everything there are exceptions to all good things. There was the young chick who wanted to know 'why y'all old bitches keep texting me about this nigga. He's good dick and nothing more. Plus, I'm not gon stop fucking with him anyway" There was the chick who said it was her who filled his refrigerator with items he would never buy himself...she had purchased the groceries for his kids and her, because she lived there. And there was the Caucasian older lady, well presumably she's older otherwise sus simply aging like an American Pitbull in the face, who said 'she didn't give a fuck because he's good to me, and I don't care what he does to y'all."

On my way back to his home, I began receiving calls, inboxes and text messages from friends and family in St. Louis...he had inboxed my best friend and was on my business page acting a fool, exposing himself. 

I let it go.  I understand that hit dogs holler, so I expected nothing less of him. His concern was not that women would leave him because, "bitches come and go" but rather him being painted in an unfavorable light-his image is everything to him. I got it.

So I returned his phone. The phone he knew I had that did not have a lock on it and headed back home.

 Stay posted for the release of my 3rd book, The Uglier Side of the Truth...inspired by my Yuppie, because of course this great American tragedy doesn't end here. But the blog does...

Til next time,

~Big Jiz