Pursuing Prince’s Legacy

February 20, 2013 By 39 Comments

On Tuesday February 19, 2013, I filed a precedent setting lawsuit against Ashburn Psychological Center and Dr. Margaret Wong (the child psychologist who gave Luc his court ordered psychological evaluation).  As anyone who has been following my story knows, I have never stopped trying to get justice for Prince since this whole ordeal started.  Part of “getting justice” is holding all of the people who failed my son accountable for their behavior.  A few hours after the law suit was filed, I held the first press conference of my life in my attorney’s office.  Sharing how I felt in that moment might help you understand why this was such a proud moment for me as a mother – as Prince’s Mama.

 

I couldn’t sleep the night before the press conference.  Thoughout the night, I kept thinking about all of the things I wanted to say and how important it was for me to make my son proud.  I would be speaking in a forum that few people get to experience.  I had an opportunity to speak for my son as he would never be able to speak for himself.

When I arrived at the attorney’s office, my thoughts seemed to go a mile a minute as I wondered if I could make these reporters understand how important this message was to not only me, but to many others across the country and the world who are facing similarly horrifying situaitons.  As I sat down at the table in front of a bunch of new faces and cameras, my mind slowed down a bit as my attorney Patrick Regan spoke to the crowd.  Then, it was my turn.  What I said went something like this,

“Thank you all for being here today.  I hope you can understand how important this is to me.  My son was a very special boy – he was my angel.  I sit here before you on behalf of my son who couldn’t be here today.  I speak for my son who will never be old enough to speak.  The week he died, he had just said the word “ball”.  It was his second word after “Mama.”  As many of you know, my son’s father – during just the fourt unsupervised visitation- took off all of my son’s clothing, put him in a cold bathtub, and then held him under the water until he died.  This was a violent and hideous crime.  My son’s father didn’t “snap” and he didn’t go crazy after having a history of mental health.  When Judge Algeo suspected that (Luc) had a mental health issue, he ordered him to have a psychological evalaution.  (Luc) then went to the Ashburn Psychological Center, a place with whom he had a previous history, and paid Dr. Wong to give him a clean bill of health so he could gain unsupervised access to my son Prince.  Dr. Wong proceeded to perform an unethical and negligent psychological evaluation where she ignored all of the evidence that did not support Mr. Rams’ claims of mental health.  It was her dangerously flawed and negligent examination that led Judge Algeo to grant unsupervised visitations – which ultimately led to my son’s death.”

 

As I looked out at the faces in the crowd, I noticed even several men in the room shed a tear.  I continued to explain to the crowd how regardless of whether Family Law touches your life personally, everyone should care about how children are treated in this country.  If children continue to be exposed to abusive and violent parents, these emotionally and physically abused children will eventually become adults and the same issue that was so easy to ignore will eventually become a deeper sociately problem.   If a man as disordered as Luc can walk into a psychological and pay/charm his way into getting a clear bill of health, just about anyone could have done the same.  Dr. Wong’s behavior undermines the entire justice system and we all, as Americans and as members of the human race, should be appalled.

I am suing Dr. Wong and the Ashburn Psychological Center for 20 million dollars.  There is no amount of money on this planet that will make what happened to my son right and there is nothing that can be done to make me forget the terrible pain that I will face for the rest of my life.  This lawsuit is about justice and accountability.  I want to continue to helping people and I want to keep my son alive with a strong memory and a positive legacy.

If I could work every day for the rest of my life and receive no monitary compensation just to be able to have kept Prince with me, I would sign up for that deal in a heartbeat.  Unfortunately, I was not given that choice.

Today was a good day.  I have never been more proud of my son than I was today as I stood there speaking to all of those people.  I realized in that moment that my son was able to have more of an impact in his 15 months than most people will ever hope for in a lifetime.  I was a proud Mama today.  I will never stop telling your story Prince, and I will always fight for your legacy.

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V-Day

February 13, 2013 By 12 Comments

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.  Many people will be celebrating with their loved ones, giving and receiving candy and flowers, and feeling generally warm and fuzzy.  While part of me would love to join in on the love fest, I have decided to write about the other date that falls on February 14th - V-Day.  For those of you who have never heard of this, V-Day is a global activist movement to end violence against women and girls inspired by Eve Ensler’s play, The Vagina Monologues.

Critics of V-Day are angry that there are people who want to talk about Domestic Violence on a day that is supposed to be about relationships and love.  To them I say – until domestic violence is no longer tied to “relationships” and “love”, I will continue to talk about it.  I think Valentines Day is the perfect day to talk about this issue.  It is a time when women and men should examine love and relationships and either cherish having found a man who isn’t abusive, plan on how to escape an abusive relationship, or try and help someone who is being abused.

So for my V-Day blog post, I am going to tell one woman’s story of abuse as a tribute to this day.
(Note:  The man in this story is NOT Luc)
“Mr. GQ” and the loss of innocence:

I remember the first time I saw him, he looked like he had walked right out of a GQ magazine.  He was tall, dark, handsome, and very well dressed.  I had arrived at the party early and the only person I knew hadn’t arrived yet.  Though I was super confident, I was also shy around guys.  I was 22, had just graduated from college, and only recently moved away from my entire family.  While I had dated in college, I was still a virgin.  I was waiting for “Mr. Right” or “Prince Charming”.  I still believed in fairytale romance and hoped to one day be swept off of my feet.
Mr. GQ flashed me a smile from across the room.  Initially I looked behind me because I thought he most certainly couldn’t have been looking at me.  A few minutes later, he was standing in front of me asking me for my number.  Over the course of a couple weeks, we went out on several dates and things seemed to be going pretty well.  I told him I wasn’t interested in sex before marriage and to my surprise he seemed cool with that.  One day, he invited me over to his place to watch a movie to which I accepted without a second thought.
Upon arrival, he led me into his bedroom.  I remember asking him why we couldn’t just watch the movie in the den like normal people.  He made up some excuse about the main television being broken and having an annoying housemate.   A couple of minutes after the movie started, he handed me a drink.  Things went south quickly as he moved to taking off my clothes.  I protested and reminded him that I didn’t want to have sex with him.  He told me to be quiet and that it would be over quickly.
I remember feeling confused and scared.  Why didn’t I feel normal?  I felt like I was fighting to remain conscious and I kept blacking out.  Was there something in the drink?  As he forced himself on top of me, he didn’t care that I was pushing him off trying to make it stop nor did he care that I continued to say no.  I felt like a rag doll and he looked like a robot on auto pilot.  After it was over, I was in shock.  I felt dizzy and wondered if this was really happening or if I was going to wake up from this nightmare.
I never called him again.  I went through the next several months wondering if I was still a virgin or whether I could even call that rape since I had agreed to go into his bedroom.  I chose not to report it, because I knew that it would come down to my word against his and I had gone to his room willingly.
The Aftermath:
The woman in the story was 22 year old Cappuccino Queen.  I was raped the first time I had sex.  I don’t talk about my first time, nor do I look upon it with the same fondness that I imagine some women who planned it might.  Until recently, I didn’t even want to consider what happened to me as rape.
Ever since my son died, many people have told me how strong I am.  I wasn’t strong as a 22 year old woman.  I was scared and I let a rapist go free to rape others because I was too afraid to report it.
Almost ten years later, I met Luc (a different guy that Mr. GQ and clearly even worse).  After having lived through such a terrible experience in my 20′s with Mr. GQ, I believed that maybe I had just met someone nice and charming who was actually Prince Charming.  Right after I had Prince, this man I had believed was my Prince Charming (Luc) raped my 19 year old sister.  After learning what he did to her, I wanted my sister to report it.  I didn’t want her to feel the shame that I feel now – ten years from now.  After my sister reported the rape, however, I learned a very scary and painful lesson.  Unless a man jumps out of the bushes with a ski mask on, beats you to a pulp, and its all caught on a retail surveillance camera, you will be lucky if the rapist sees any jail time – you will be lucky if it isn’t turned on you.
Having been a victim myself of this violent crime, I am here to tell you that women don’t report rape for the hell of it – out of anger – or for revenge.  Rape is not a black and white issue and not all rapists jump out of bushes with ski masks.  It takes a very strong woman to admit that she has been raped and EVERY report needs to be taken seriously.  In our country, criminals receive the benefit of innocence until they are proven guilty.  When it comes to rape, that often means the victim is seen as guilty until proven innocent.
Recently, the Washington Post reported about what happened to me and my sister after my sister tried to remove the man who raped her from the streets.  I am certain that instead of being appalled at what occurred, at least one person commented on the article about how awful it is when women report rape falsely.  I am willing to bet that people who jump to the conclusion that the report was false have been in situations themselves where they have committed acts of violence against women.  These people fight fervently to make it seem as if women run around the streets crying rape at the drop of a hat.  This just doesn’t happen.
The man who raped my sister was not an innocent man.  Having potentially escaped the law in several murders, and then after raping a woman not even half his age, he became emboldened.  He felt above the law because he had been.  Then, he went on to kill an innocent child for money.  I can almost guarantee that the police officers who didn’t want to believe this man could possibly be a rapist have still not learned their lessons.  I am willing to bet that these same officers will continue to charge victims and allow criminals who commit acts of sexual violence to walk free.  They will do this because our system allows it and  encourages it.  When  a victim is further victimized by the system – authorities are never punished for getting it wrong.  In fact, the officer who arrested my sister after my sister had been raped was promoted soon after.
This week – I encourage you to celebrate love and cherish healthy relationships.  While you’re receiving flowers and chocolates, however, please also think about the work that still needs to be done in this country before women are truly equal and before we are all truly free.

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Trusting Your Gut

February 6, 2013 By 51 Comments

Intuition, or gut instinct, is the most powerful natural protective mechanism that we have. – A quote just about everyone would agree on in theory

While just about everyone will admit at some point in time that instincts are a good thing, most of us are taught to also question them.  We learn from a very early age not to wrongfully judge others, to be kind and loving, and to avoid being a mean person.  I used to love walking closely behind Prince as he walked through the mall.  He was like a little barometer of goodness.  He would naturally gravitate toward people who put out friendly and positive vibes, and would avoid people who have him the willies.  By avoid, I mean that he never seemed to care if bad people were insulted by his screaming and he never thought twice about running away from someone who scared him.  For example, Prince cried every time he saw Luc.  One time he cried so long that he started to hyperventilate which forced the visit to end early.  Prince’s gut was fully functional. Prince was a special little boy, but his instincts were not unusual for a child.

When I was a teenager, I went on vacation with my family to Europe.  My sister was about seven years old and was easily scared.  While we were in Paris, my brother and I were teasing her about how when we went to the Notre Dame Cathedral she should be on the lookout for “Quasimoto”.    (Note:  For those who don’t know the story of Quasimodo, he was born with a hunchback and feared by the townspeople as a sort of monster.)  Just as we left the cathedral, my sister ran smack into a scary looking old homeless man.  In true seven year old fashion, she ran away screaming and crying about how she had just seen a monster.  Of course, my entire family was completely embarrassed and my parents explained to my sister that it was wrong to judge this man because of how he looked and was dressed.  About five minutes after my sister’s very public reaction to this man, we noticed that he was going around pick pocketing unsuspecting tourists.  While my parents’ hearts were in the right place, I think my sister had a very protective instinctual reaction that was not simply based on how this man looked.  While the rest of us felt bad judging him based on our gut instincts, my sister was right to run away from him because he gave her the willies.  She did what most seven year olds would do to protect themselves – run away screaming.

 

Ignoring your gut:

Everyone reading my blog likely knows by now that my life has recently been filled with all kinds of bad news drama.  Some of you might still be wondering how in hell a woman like me got mixed up with a serial killer.  While I recognize that my story is on the extreme spectrum of badness, there are a lot of important life lessons that are useful for even the less extreme situations.  I have spoken before about how I met Luc online (mistake number one – noted).  Our phone conversations had gone well and he seemed to have an interesting story (because it was just a story); however, when I first set eyes on Luc something deep inside me told me to run.  The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and he just plain gave me the willies.  That feeling in my stomach, sadly, was not butterflies – it was God sending me a sign and telling me things were not right with this man.

So why didn’t I turn around right there in the mall and leave?  Why didn’t I just stand him up, make up an excuse, or just disappear and never answer my phone again?  I didn’t run because I ignored my gut.  I was a good person who didn’t want to be mean by telling him he gave me the creeps before running in the opposite direction.  By ignoring those initial instincts and sticking around for that first date, I allowed him to dig his evil claws into me and disarm me with his charm and all out love bombing techniques.  It only took Luc a few minutes to squash my gut.

Unfortunately, after I initially ignored my gut with Luc, it became a bit of a slippery slope.  There were moments when that gut feeling would come back, but because I didn’t have solid evidence to explain why I had these feelings – I continued to ignore them thinking that maybe I was the one overreacting or just “being mean”.  When I was pregnant, I ignored my gut thinking that maybe I was just hormonal.  There became a point where I had defended the idea of Luc so much in my head, and to doubtful and rightfully skeezed out friends, that I felt invested in something I should not have even entered into.

 

Things that inhibit your gut:

In the past, I have cautioned my readers against internet dating.  I am going to take this a step further to say that with the emergence of technology, we often enter into situations that inhibit our ability to have that initial gut instinct.  For example, con men in other countries run online schemes swindling innocent people out of millions of dollars without ever having to face them in person.  It is easier these days for predators and criminals to hide behind a computer screen.  Luc was incredibly successful at finding his targets on the internet.  He would not have been this successful in person.  The nonverbal cues that people give off help us determine whether or not they are genuine.  When you don’t have the opportunity to assess these cues, you start out at a disadvantage.

 

The price I paid:

Ignoring my gut instinct was what initially allowed me to fall for a con man, but the sad reality is that once I figured out my mistake – and realized how terribly dangerous Luc was – the courts forced me to ignore my instincts when it came to Prince.  The Judge chastised me for having had a child with Luc, and appeared gleeful at the idea that I would forever be punished – now  forced to ignore my maternal instincts and turn my son over to the man who had conned me.  Prince only survived three visits before on the fourth visit coming home brain dead and cold.  Every single time I said goodbye to my son before handing him over to Luc, my gut would scream bloody hell.  My instincts at this time told me to run.  I had gotten as far as getting Prince a passport, and was actively thinking about places I could go and hide.  Unfortunately, I had ignored my gut for so long that the courts took away my ability to legally follow my gut.  I knew that I couldn’t break the law without becoming a fugitive, end up in jail one day, and lose custody by default.

Sadly, I know there are many parents who will continue to face this painful reality.  I wish I could provide you with the wisdom that would make it easier to endure.  The only possible advice I would offer you is not to let the court make you believe that it’s in your child’s best interest to ignore your gut.  Try not to let years in the system make you numb to those instincts that might one day save your child.  It might feel easier to ignore those instincts when you are forced to turn your child over despite them.  Play the game because you must, but don’t ignore your best defense against evil – instincts.

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Happy medium:

I am not suggesting that I should have run away screaming and crying when I saw Luc the first time (though this would have likely been better than sticking around).  Instead, I am suggesting a happy medium between the screaming child and my adult reaction.  Had I to do all over again, I would have slowly backed away and ducked into a random store in the mall.  Then, I would have ignored his phone calls or just made up some excuse why I couldn’t make the date and never again contact him.  Sure, if for some reason you cannot escape a bad situation without running and scream – by all means channel your inner seven year old and scream your head off.  Most of the time, however, we find ourselves in situations where we can easily choose to walk away when it doesn’t feel right.

Right after Prince died, my body felt like it was shutting down on me.  I was a perfect target for predators because, frankly, my gut didn’t work right.  I have since realized that there were several people who came into my life, and tried and capitalize on my devastating situation for their own personal gain.  Luckily, I am starting to come out of the initial fog and have noticed things about these people that have led me to back away slowly before running away (screaming only in my head so not to cause a scene).  It has proven somewhat harder to run away from a person you have initially let in; however, it is not impossible.  At the end of the day, it is not mean to cut someone off if by doing so you are protecting yourself and your children.

I will forever have little lessons Prince taught me.  The lesson of “trusting your gut”; however, is one that Prince reminded me of.  When I was Prince’s age, I also had a healthy gut that I managed to ignore countless times as I got older and started to overthink every single situation.  While I am not advocating making a snap judgment on a homeless person who may have fallen on hard times, I am advocating for not ignoring your gut instinct about someone just because you feel bad and have been taught to give everyone a chance.

If I ever find myself at the steps of the Notre Dame Cathedral with my future child, and we see Quasimoto’s stunt double trying to rob innocent people, I will grab my child’s hand, swiftly walk away, and say, “Mommy has the willies baby.”

 

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Strength – When You Have No Other Choice

February 1, 2013 By 13 Comments

One morning in February 2012, I woke up just like every other morning.  Prince used to wake up at 3am as if he had an internal “I want to sleep with Mama for a bit” clock.  He knew I woke up for work at 5am so he would get up with just enough time to sleep with me for a couple of hours.  He was so used to getting his way when it came to the morning routine that he wouldn’t cry.  He would look right into the baby monitor and say, “Ah? Ah? Ah?”  I would roll out of bed (hair looking like a hot mess and barely able to see), grab him out of bed, and take him into the bed with me.  Prince would promptly sprawl himself across my body, and happily spend the next couple of hours with Mama before I had to go to work.

Driving to work that morning, I heard the news that a man named Josh Powell had just murdered his two innocent children during a court ordered supervised visit.  As I heard the news, I almost ran off the road.  This story hit me hard, because I actually worried about this sort of thing happening every single day.  Most people cannot imagine that level of crazy, but I was living in a nightmare packed with the kind of crazy that most people only see in movies – or hear about on the radio during their drive in to work.

When I got to work that morning, I felt like a zombie.  I couldn’t stop thinking about Prince and what I would do if I didn’t have him with me.  That morning, I brought up the Josh Powell story with a couple of my coworkers.  I told them that I was terrified for my son, and I couldn’t imagine how I would live if something ever happened to him.  I noticed that most of my coworkers were saddened by the story, but they were not able to relate the same way I was because they were not scared in the same way for their children.

Strength – when you have no other choice

Back in February 2012, I had a hard time imagining a life without my baby boy.  Now, a year later, it is my reality.  Many people have told me that I am the strongest person they have met, and they often wonder how I am able to make it through each day.  What I often have a hard time explaining is that I was grieving for my son even before he died.  I was terrified for him every single day since the day I learned what Luc was – a psychopath (July 17, 2011).  Sometimes I wonder if I am able to be so strong because I have become used to this level of chaos, and desensitized to all of the bad things that can happen.

The fear that I lived with every single day was extreme.  Anyone who saw me in court would remember how my voice shook as I begged Judge Algeo not to make me give my son to the man I feared would hurt him.  While I didn’t have any solid evidence that something this extreme would happen, I did have loads of historical circumstantial evidence from Luc’s past and all of the people who died around him.  While I hung onto to the hope that Luc loved his son, I knew that he was not capable of loving him the way a father should love their child.  The most scary thought was that I knew Luc was dangerous, and that Prince would not be able to escape this man unharmed - nobody had escaped unharmed.

Many people all across the world are living in fear that something will happen to their child.  The pain that is caused from this fear is not the same as what I am living through, having lost my son, but it can sometimes feel equally as terrible.  While my son was alive and I was fighting for his life (and my own), I didn’t have a choice but to be strong.  I couldn’t have imagined living through the death of my son because to have been able to imagine it would have been unnatural.  So right now, I am doing the same thing I did before my son died – I am surviving the chaos because I have no other choice.  I am strong because I am a mother - mothers don’t get to choose not to have strength for their children.

 

How I Keep Living:

Every day I receive letters from others who are struggling to protect their children in a system that has encouraged them to shut off their parental instincts.  While this issue is close to home for me (because I lived it with Prince), people suffer through other types of terrible tragedies and painful situations every day and can certainly relate to the idea of “strength – when you have no other choice”.  Its been nearly four months since I last woke up with my son sprawled across my chest.  Sometimes I still wake up at 3am thinking that I have just heard his voice.  I don’t pretend to have the play book on how to be strong in the face of evil, chaos, and the impossibly bad, but I have learned a few things that help me get out of bed each morning.  Whatever it is that you are going through, I hope that you can find your own strength through my words.

1)  Find your “happy” place:  There are still times during the day when I get sad.  Sometimes I look at my son’s picture on my office desk and have to walk away just to keep myself from crying.  When moments of sadness hit me, I hang onto happy thoughts to get me through the sad moment.  For example, I remember a time when Prince made me laugh or I think about all the amazing friends and family who have helped me through this situation.  Lately, I have found a lot of happiness thinking about Luc trying to hide in the corner of his cell while Bubba is waiting to violate him.  (I apologize for some for whom I have offended their sensibilities.)

2)  Choose your battles: There are a lot of things you can get stressed out from on a daily basis.  If I chose to be stressed about all of them, I would most certainly die immediately.  If you are dealing with a lot of stress in life, give yourself a break and allow yourself to just walk away from things that are not work the stress.  For example, Fairfax Hospital treated me and my family like trash the night my son died.  While sometimes I feel like going there to scream, cry, or just tell them how terribly I was treated, I realize that unless they are willing to learn from this experience – it is most likely not work my energy.  Instead, I choose to limit the drama when I can and focus on things that actually make me feel better.

3) You cannot fix stupid/crazy:  When I was fighting Luc in court, I had to get to a point when I realized that there was no way I would ever be able to make him not stupid and not crazy.  Now, even with Luc behind bars, there are still a few stupid/crazy people who would rather trash me than recognize the terrible tragedy that occurred.  Initially, I spent a lot of time being upset about these people.  I have learned, however, that this stress is not helpful and it certainly won’t bring Prince back.

4) Get passionate and don’t be afraid to be loud about it:  There is no pill on this planet that will get me out of bed faster than simple passion.  When this tragedy first occurred, I had several people who suggested medication.  I am here to tell you that medicine will not make what is causing the pain to go away.  What seems to help me, however, is finding something to channel my energy.  It is my son’s legacy that gets me out of bed in the morning and it is the idea that I can help others that keeps me going.  Whatever it is you are passionate about be it basket weaving or pursuing justice, chase that passion with fire and don’t be afraid to get loud about it.

Finally, there is no right or wrong way to grieve.  Whether you are grieving the loss of a job, the loss of a relationship, the loss of your belief in the justice system, or the loss of your child and the love of your life – allow yourself to grieve your own way.  Take time for yourself and don’t worry about pleasing everyone in your quest to find your own strength.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Love At First Sight

January 27, 2013 By 35 Comments

Portrait of an “alleged” serial killer

In February 2010, I met Lucifer for the first time in person (after several phone conversation and email exchanges).  While in the above picture he appears to have aged about ten years in the three years since I first met him, I cannot say he didn’t look just as menacing back then – to some degree he did.  The public is without a doubt wondering how a pretty, intelligent, and educated woman would have fallen for such a thug.  (I have moments myself when I wonder the same thing.)  Well, I am here to tell you that love is dangerous.  I fell in love with the man Lucifer created specially for me.  He read me like a book and presented who I believed, at the time, was my soul mate and Prince charming.  Had I had the benefit of hindsight, I would have run away screaming.  Instead, I was caught up into a whirlwind fake romance and fell victim to one of life’s most hideous and dangerous crimes -relationship fraud.

Some of you may wonder how a woman who had her son murdered could still qualify “relationship fraud” as one of life’s most hideous and dangerous crimes.  I truly believe this to be the case because it was relationship fraud that precipitated these horrible events.  Had Luc not presented a “false self”, I would never have fallen in love with him.  Had I been exposed to the real monster hiding under the button-down shirt and khaki pants (this is what he wore when he wanted people to see the fake self), I would never have gone on a first date with this man.

Paul Ebert, the Commonwealth Attorney, said to me the other day that he didn’t know how I got wrapped up with such a man.  This is after telling me that good people didn’t hang around with Luc.  After spending a couple of minutes trying to explain myself to him, I realized that this might be a losing battle.  Unless you have been charmed by one of these people it is very  hard to understand. (His lawyers and the therapists who were all conned into defending him likely know this well)  I know this because I used to be one of those people who believed that this sort of thing could never happen to someone like me.  I would have watched this story on the news myself and said things like, “See…people like this should not have children, because they clearly are not responsible enough to properly vet their partners.”  I would have said this because I was ignorant and because I was naïve.

Love is dangerous and the natural emotions a woman feels when she has a child with a man can be deadly.  While Luc never came out and told me things like how his mother was found in his house lying dead on a plastic bag (and he was living off of her life insurance policy), he did have moments of rage and anger that scared the hell out of me.  That being said, these moments didn’t happen until I was already in love with the “fake self”.  As these nightmarish episodes occurred, I held onto the memory of the Luc I had first met and didn’t want to believe that this man didn’t exist.  I had been love bombed.

The relationship that I had with this man cost me more than most people will ever experience in their lifetimes.  The most hideous reality here is that this fraudulent relationship produced a sweet and innocent little boy.  That boy is no longer with us because his mother feel in love with an “alleged” serial killer.  His mother was a target who fell into a dangerous trap.  Instead of mourning what happened to this little boy, there are many who feel better blaming his mother for having looked at this evil man and fallen for his charm and charisma.  I have paid dearly for the mistakes that I have made, but I challenge you all to remember a time when you have made a mistake – to remember a relationship that when it ended you breathed a sigh of relief for having dodged a bullet – to remember regretting having fallen for someone’s lies.  All of us have done things for which we are not proud (if you haven’t then you are probably a little disordered yourself), but most of us have not had to pay for those mistakes with the loss of our children.

I ask you to focus this conversation on my son and his legacy.  Let’s not ignore what happened here - making ourselves feel better trying to believe this could never happen to us or anyone we know.  Not only could this happen to anyone, but something similar (maybe to not the same degree) has happened to someone you know.  If you ignore the reality of how dangerous people like Luc are, chances are greater that this sort of thing will happen to you.

I would be lying if I said I couldn’t remember a time when I looked at this monster and believed he was a good man.  Now, however, I look at this mug shot and I see the devil himself.  I see a man who is ugly, menacing, and evil.  I am thankful that no matter what happens to this man, no other woman (or man) will ever be conned by this man into believing that he is good.

 

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Justice for baby Prince

January 25, 2013 By 53 Comments

“True peace is not merely the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice.” – Martin Luther King Jr.

Over the past two years, there have been many moments in which I have been ashamed of my country.  I grew up believing that if I was an honest person, who worked hard to positively contribute to society, I would always be able to turn to our justice system for help in dangerous times.  When I needed help, however, the justice system was not there for me.  The justice system allowed my sister to be assaulted and for the criminal who assaulted her to walk free, for me to be falsely arrested instead of protected from my abuser, for the Family Courts to ignore the dangerousness of my son’s father, and for several public servants to place my son in the hands of a disordered man who I believe murdered my 15 month old baby boy.  I have lived a nightmare since the day Luc walked into my life.  This nightmare reached epic proportions the day I left him, and since my son’s death has reached the unimaginable.

I am not alone in my quest for peace.  Every person (man or woman) who has found themselves in the grip of a psychopath comes to a point when they also crave peace.  As MLK Jr. stated so eloquently, peace does not only come with the absence of tension.  To a large degree, the tension I had with Luc no longer exists – Prince is gone and Luc has no more control over the person I cared most for in life – my son.  The tension was also reduced the day I realized that Luc was a lost cause, and that I truly didn’t care what happened to him (beyond justice for my son).  Though I will never again be in family court with this demon, it is impossible to truly have peace until justice is served.  While many men and women who have dealt with a psychopath may never receive the justice they deserve, today me and my son received a part of justice I feared may never come – Lucifer was arrested this morning.

The medical examiner report ruled my son’s death a homicide and that he was drowned.  Since my son was only 15 months old, Lucifer could be facing capital murder charges and the death penalty.

This piece of justice feels bitter sweet.  Had the justice system been there for us before now, my son would be here to celebrate this moment with me.  I am not sure that I will ever be able to forgive my country for the terrible injustices that led to the death of my son.  I am not sure if I will ever forgive myself for following the law and waiting for justice my son would not live long enough to see.  That being said, I realize that if I sit back and merely complain without attempting to change the system – I become part of the problem.  When I read the words of MLK Jr., and think about the incredible legacy that he left behind, I feel hopeful.  While many of the injustices he felt during his lifetime have improved, it was not without struggle.  Right now, we are facing new injustices and new problems.  We are facing a crisis directed at our children.  It has become part of my legacy (and the legacy of my son Prince) to see to it that no other child faces the same fate and no other mother will have to bury her son in this way.

One of the most vivid memories I have of my son happened on one summer day (a few short months before he died) when I was dancing with him up and down the driveway in front of our house.  I looked into his beautiful brown eyes and asked, “Are you going to dance with Mama on your wedding day Mr. Prince?”  Prince was laughing hysterically as I spun him around in circles to the silent music both of us imagined.  While my son was not verbal, if he could talk his answer would have been “No”.  It would have been “no” because Prince would never have a wedding day.  He would never be old enough to get married, and we would never again dance together.  I tell this story not to ask for pity, but to ask for your help in finding the justice my son, and every child, deserves.  Justice does not come from one mother screaming at the top of her lungs about what happened to her son – it comes from the power of many.  The civil rights movement was not a movement based on the words of one brave man; it was a movement afoot in a country that was tired of living in the shadows of injustice.  I am tired of living in a country where the courts allow children to be abused and killed by disordered parents and caregivers.  How about you?

Today was a big day for justice, but it was only a piece of the story and a pebble on the path of justice for our children.  I have often told you that this blog is not about Lucifer (that is one of the main reasons that I don’t use his true name).  Today, however, I want to share a letter with all of my readers that I have written to Luc (but will never send).  I imagine this letter could be used over and over again for many woman (and some men too) who have escaped (or hope to escape) a psychopath.  I encourage everyone to share their “goodbye letters” in the comments of this post.  Say goodbye and good riddance to the psychopath in your life and pledge to have “no contact” with this person in both the physical and in thought.  This is the first time I will address Luc – and it will also be the last.

 

Dear Lucifer,

I regret a lot of things in life, but I will never regret leaving you.  While we were together, I wrote love letter after love letter – hoping and praying that you would one day prove to me that you were the man I wanted you to be.  You never proved anything, because being that man was impossible.  You have taken a lot from me, but you have not ruined me.  I was strong before I met you, but now you have assisted me in becoming wiser and stronger than I ever believed I could be.  Prince was an angel.  I have always known that he saved my life, but now I realize that he likely saved many others.  Sometimes I think Shawn sent him here to protect her son from you.  Maybe your mother Alma sent him so that you would stop killing, conning, leaching, and abusing.   Prince’s true mission was one that I will never completely know until I am in heaven along with him.

Today is the beginning of the rest of my life.  After this moment, I will begin to forget about you.  I will move on, fall in love again, have more children, and one day remember Prince without remembering his unfortunate sperm donor.   I am fairly certain that you will remember me forever.  You are likely thinking that your current situation is my fault.  Don’t be confused Luc, this is part of your disorder.  You always said that you wondered if you were being punished for the bad things you had done in a past life (because you didn’t have money, were not a successful singer, or whatever thing you chose to complain about that day).  I am here to tell you the honest to God truth – you are being punished for the terrible things you are doing in this life.  Everything that is happening to you right now is of your own doing.  That very large and angry man who wants to make you his girlfriend (or maybe already has) is sharing that jail cell with you because of what you have done to the people who tried to love you.

You have destroyed everything that could have been good in your life.  Now, you have nothing.  You have become what you have feared the most – powerless and utterly irrelevant.  In jail you will probably still tell stories about how you believe you were in concert with Brittany Spears, Rihanna, or whatever other artist you will claim to personally know at the time.  The difference, however, is that now everyone knows how delusional you are so these stories will be nothing more than the stories of a crazy man who sits in prison for the rest of his miserable life.

Enjoy the media attention and the televised trial because it will be the last stage you will perform on.  Eventually, you will disappear along with the average news cycle, and nobody will think about you as you rot in jail where you belong.  And remember – you are sitting there because of the things you have done.  You took Prince’s life after only 15 months.  My little boy touched more people in a positive way than you will have in your lifetime.  In fact, I would challenge you to find just one person who will admit (after they learn who you really are) that you have touched their life in a positive way.

Good riddance Lucifer.  You are finally where you were meant to be – in chains, powerless, and forever in jail.

Truthfully and finally,

Prince’s Mama

 

 

 

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Fearing the non-traditional family

January 15, 2013 By 2 Comments

There are certain memories of my time with Luc that are burned in my mind.  One of the most vivid memories happened in early 2011 when I was only a few months pregnant.  Luc went into another one of his rages when I admitted that I couldn’t afford to pay his entire mortgage.  I had just finished telling him how I was starting to feel as if I was being used (since he was not working and it seemed as if he expected me to bring in all the money in the household).  His eyes burning with rage, he said, “I will never forgive you for saying that!”  It was the first time that I looked at him and felt as if I didn’t recognize him.  I was terrified.  That night, I packed up my things and left.  I drove away from the house as far as I could and stopped at a hotel.  I didn’t want to go back, but I was afraid to leave.

At the time, I was unsure why I felt so compelled to protect this man who I had come to see was abusive and whom I had started to worry was not being honest (particularly about his career).  Looking back on it, however, it is more clear to me that I was afraid of the non-traditional family.  I had grown up with a mother and a father who had been married for longer than I was alive and who would stay married until the day they died.  I was taught that through even the worst – you keep your family together.  I was afraid to admit the reality – this man was not capable of being the family man I had dreamed of and we would never be a family.  So I hung on, because that was easier than admitting that my dream hadn’t worked out.

So many women (and men too) find themselves in relationships that aren’t working.  For children, and societal expectations, we stay longer than we should.  We stay for fear of being one of the “other” types of families or for having to one day answer the question, “where is my daddy?”.

For months after I left, we didn’t hear from Luc.  He never asked how Prince was doing and never asked to see him.  Even through my relief that we had escaped this abusive situation (and it appeared as though he was going to leave us alone), I found myself looking at children (particularly boys) with their fathers.  While my son had several strong men in his life (his uncle, grandfather, great uncles, and cousins), I still went through a period of mourning for a man who never existed – the man I believed had been my son’s father.  The man I believed Luc was (before I learned the truth), would never have disappeared for months instead of asking to see his child.

 

A Village

Before Luc came into my life, I never would have jumped to the front of the line (waving my hands around like an eager elementary school girl) to sign up for single motherhood.  I was thrown into single motherhood when I chose to run from a dangerous situation.  Though this seemed like a scary decision to make at the time, I came to learn that it doesn’t just take a mother and a father to have a strong family – it takes a village of strong people.

The “it takes a village” phase seems played out; however, I learned of its truth during my time as Prince’s mother.  As I looked around, I realized that Prince had so many people who loved him.  He was happy and he knew where his home was – with his people.  When Prince hit major milestones, like crawling and walking, I wasn’t alone – I shared the moment with my parents and with all of Prince’s extended family over the iPhone (even Luc’s brother, aunts, and cousins).  Despite all of the love in my son’s life, society (in the form of family court) didn’t believe that my son’s life was complete.  Judge Algeo believed my son needed to have access to his father Luc, despite his vocal concerns about Luc’s mental health.

Even though I knew our lives would never be easy (because of Luc and the court’s unwillingness to protect us from him), I tried as hard as I could to give my son everything I could.  I was preparing myself every day to answer the hard questions like, “Why aren’t you with my father?  Why are you scared of him?  How come I have to be dropped off for a visit with him at a police station?”  Unfortunately, my son will never learn to speak.  He never even said “Dada” so I never got the chance to explain to him why it was that I left that man.

The Non-Traditional Family

Since my son came into my life, I have looked closely at many families.  I have realized that children need healthy people and that successful families come in all sizes, ages, races, socio-economic status, and gender.  I would like to share a few examples of excellent “non-traditional” families.  I hope that through these types of examples, women and men will realize that they need not be afraid of describing what is different to their children.  They need to show their children the healthiest environment they can even when that is despite the child’s other biological parent.  To these people I describe below – thank you for teaching me this important lesson.

1)  My friend Jo is a lesbian woman.  She married her wife Melissa years ago.  Jo and Melissa just had their first child, Harper, last year.  Before Jo and Melissa, I didn’t know any other lesbian couple with a child.  Ignorantly, I often wondered if a child of a lesbian couple would be disadvantaged without the presence of a father.  Over the past few months, however, I have watched Harper grow up in what appears to be one of the most loving homes I have ever seen.  The way these two women talk about their daughter is heart warming.  I have no doubt in my mind that this child will grow up to be a strong, caring, intelligent, educated, and loving woman just like her mothers.

2)  My uncle Greg was a single father when he met my aunt.  Even though me and his son Dan are not biological cousins, I consider Dan just as “cousin” as the rest of my cousins.  My uncle Greg made personal sacrifices in his life for his son, but he also understood the importance of surrounding his son with a lot of healthy people.  As a child, I distinctly remember seeing the strong bond between Greg and Dan.  Though many would not see blended families as ideal, this is a pretty darn good family.  Dan’s biological father and mother were not together, but Dan has a very strong family.

3)  In the past couple of years, I have met several single mothers.  Two of my friends are single mothers -one by choice and one by circumstance.  These two women are raising their daughters with love and exposing them to healthy people.  While its possible that these two girls will wonder about their biological fathers (for two very different reasons), I have no doubt in my mind that they will grow up to be amazing women just like their mothers.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying there is anything wrong with the traditional male-female relationship parenting experience. (Note:  I know a lot of great traditional families)  What I am saying, however, is that this is not always the best situation for everyone.  There are a lot of people who stay in bad relationships (or never have children at all) because they fear the non-traditional experience.  Our society is evolving and with that should come the understanding that 1) not all people should be parents 2) children need healthy people. 

I learned a lot of hard lessons in the past three years.  While I am no longer a single mother with a child, I will always be Prince’s mother.  I am no longer afraid of being a single mother.  I wish I could have given Prince the world.  I wish that I could have given him the wonderful non-traditional life I had re-planned for him.  I will never have that chance, but the next time I see a non-traditional family (either by choice or by circumstance) I will give them the respect they deserve.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Domestic Abuse – Stupidity does not unite us

January 7, 2013 By 10 Comments

A few days ago I wrote about something I like to call Non-Traditional Domestic Violence.  Since I wrote that post, I have received several emails from women who have lived through all kinds of horrifying abuse at the hands of likely sociopathic men.  I wanted to share some of the experiences of these strong women with my readers.  When I was living through the abuse, I felt very alone.  Even though I had friends and family living near me, I didn’t think anyone would understand what I was going through.  I was not even sure how I would begin to explain why I spent so much time crying.

One of the things people wonder about me is why I write.  Let me clear this up for the record.  I do not write out of vengeance.  While I know that Luc (and likely his old man housemate too) are reading every single word I write, this blog is not for them.  It is also not to try to change the minds of those who don’t believe psychopathy exists.  I write for the mothers (and fathers) who will one day be in family court trying to protect their children, for the man or woman who falls in love with someone who doesn’t exist (a con), for the judges who care about saving kids, for the lawyers who will represent a victim of domestic abuse, for the men and women living through abusive relationships, and most of all – for my son.  I want people to know what happened.  I promised him that I would see to it that his life will is not forgotten and that I will fight for justice.

It’s unfortunate that my son’s story began with his mother’s horribly abusive relationship.  Though its not pretty, it’s important to tell this part of the story.  For all the women who have had the strength to write down their story – me and my baby send you hugs.  Here are a few that I have heard:

1) ” …I found out I was having twins.  My pregnancy was lonely.  He wouldn’t touch me, he wouldn’t speak to me.  He treated me like a test tube only making sure that I had enough nutrition to keep the babies healthy.  I developed pre-eclampsia, gestational diabetes, high blood pressure and was put on bed rest.  While in the bathroom, I collapsed from a pain in my back.  My mother and I tried calling “J” (the sociopath) all night and into the morning.  He did not answer.  I was in the hospital for five days and my boys were in the NICU for 3 weeks.  I was there with them every single day and most nights too.  “J” was not there.”

2) ” …he would tell me that he was going to China to buy a woman whom he would bring back home to raise his sons.  He said a stranger could do a better job that I could.  He called me a “negligent cunt” when he discovered a diaper rash on the baby and he threw dirty diapers at me.  He asked me to leave the house so he could have a prostitute come over.  He would lock the car seats in his car and sleep on the keys so I couldn’t escape with the babies.”

3)  “He stopped letting me sleep at nights.  He would stay up late playing video games and would come into the bedroom periodically doing something idiotic like yelling at me just to wake me up….or he would shove me out of bed and I would end up down on the couch.”

(Note:  At the risk of being a little controversial here, if your boyfriend/husband plays violent video games ALL day and ALL night….to the degree that it impairs his ability to get a job or socialize with others…this is a HUGE red flag.  Luc did this – I should have left when I realized this was a problem.)

4)  “After a year of abuse…I started planning.  I met with a lawyer and I started telling my friends about the abuse (I had previously kept it a secret).  One night, when I knew he would be away – I left.  I had 13 friends and family show up with a moving van.  An aunt took the children and the rest of us packed anything we could for as long as my nerves would hold me at that house.  Then – I left.”

5)  “After he pushed me into a wall, punched me in the stomach (post pregnancy while holding my 3 month old son), and tried to kick in my front door, I gave up and tried to get him to stay away from me and my son.  I finally realized that this was not the kind of man my son needed in his life.  He fought me for custody.  At first it was supervised, but now its unsupervised.  I refused – now we are going back to court because I violated the court order.”

6)  “My ex husband poured scalding water on my face because he was upset with his finances and because I wouldn’t allow him to leave the country with our son.”

7)  “For nine hours, he held me hostage in his apartment, violently assaulted me, suffocated me with a body pillow…he didn’t allow me to use the bathroom.  When I finally told him that I would pee on his floor, he allowed me to go to the bathroom.  While I was using the bathroom, he took pictures of me.  He then told me he would use these pictures to embarrass me.  He did – he sent them to my father’s work e-mail address.”

8)  “I’ve seen the scariest man I have ever met walk into a court room with his head bowed, hands clasped, voice low and one tear on his cheek.  This has only made him more frightening.  I know…how it feels to lose a child.  To lose a child due to another’s complete lack of empathy and, in fact, humanity.”

9)  “…now he has started to emotionally abuse our son.  Every time my five year old son has to go to a court ordered visit, he says ‘please Mommy I will listen, now can I stay at your house?  Please, I don’t want to go to any sleeps at Dad’s.”

10)  “When I finally got the courage to leave him, he held me at gun point.  He told me that I would leave one of two ways – by jumping out of the window or in a body bag after he shot me.”

 

These stories are horrifying, but sadly they are not as uncommon as we would all like to believe.  I have heard the statistic that only four percent of the male population is considered a psychopath.  I wonder, however, how many more have gone undiagnosed and how many people are “on the spectrum” and, while not killers, are still abusive and dangerous.

The women who have shared their stories with me are all pretty, smart, and educated.  They are someone’s daughter, sister, cousin, friend…

Abuse can happen to anyone.  Stupidity is not at all a unifying characteristic for women who have been in abusive relationships.

 

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The woman my son can be proud of

January 3, 2013 By 5 Comments

Tonight I sat and stared at the Christmas tree my parents put up this year.  My eyes quickly focused in on a small ornament I had bought a little over a year ago today.  I remember like it were yesterday when I had brought Prince into this small mom and pop Christmas store in search of his first Christmas ornament for his very first Christmas (which unknown to me at the time also happened to be his last).  The ornament was of a baby in a pea pod shaped frog outfit.  The baby was wearing a crown and a cape and it had a simple inscription:  ”Little Prince”

The baby seemed to stare out at me from amongst the other ornaments on the tree.  As I stared back at it, I couldn’t help but to cry.  Despite how strong people have said I am throughout this ordeal, I didn’t feel strong in that moment.  The helpless emotions I have been feeling throughout this holiday season came rushing out as I stared at a small token that represented my little Prince.  I stared at the tree and remembered how instead of my son sleeping peacefully in his crib, his body lay cold in the ground.

This coming week will mark eleven weeks since my son died.  This time of year is a time when people tend to reflect on the year and think about how they will “change” or “reform” or “resolve” for the new year.  I have spent a considerable amount of  time thinking about my son and how much time I spent trying to protect him.  I have put a lot of thought into how I will transfer that energy into getting Justice for my son and holding the “periphery criminals” (those who stood, and continue to stand, one the outside periphery of Luc and both condone and enable his criminal behavior) accountable as well.

Beyond this, however, I am also focused on how I can be the type of person my son will be proud of.  This might sound strange to those who don’t believe in an afterlife, but bear with me on this one.  Every day I wake up, I balance my firey burning rage against the system that failed my son and the demon Luc himself.  There are moments, however, when I imagine my little boy watching me from heaven.  I don’t want him to see me angry all the time and full of hate.  I want him to see me as I would have wanted him to see me had he lived.

 

So in the new year, I am not making a New Years resolution that will fade in a few months as life gets busy.  I am starting the new year deep in thought about how I can be the woman my son will always be proud of.  This is not something that can be accomplished overnight because I have some work to do.  I need to be able to wake up without wanting to punch a hole in the wall in anger about what has happened – I need to be able to focus my anger into justice achieving activities – I need to be able to move forward with grace in the face of the most horrendously bad lifetime movie-esque story.

 

 

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Hold Fast

December 28, 2012 By 18 Comments

In the past few weeks, I have received many more emails from women (no men yet) who are facing what seems like impossible situations with the father of their child/children.  Given what has happened to Prince, it has been hard for me to find the words to advise others who find themselves in similarly horrifying situations.  I fought through an impossible situation for 15 months, but even though I gave it my best shot – it didn’t end well for me and Prince.  My baby boy died during one of the first times he ever spent alone with his father.

While to many my story is uniquely horrifying, I have come to find that it isn’t as unique as it should be.  Sometimes after reading similar stories over and over, I start to think as if there is some playbook of psychopathy that all these crazy men are reading.  I say this because even though we are all different in some ways, some of the terrible things these men do are sickeningly similar.

Many people love to judge women for falling for psychopaths, but I am here to tell you that none of these men are going to walk up to you – punch you in the face – and then ask for a second date.  Most women who end up in abusive relationships (be it physical, emotional, or a combination of both) can’t even understand how they ended up in the situation when its all over.  The burning question on many of my reader’s minds is this: what do you do once you realize that you have been sleeping next to a monster and you now share a child?  The unfortunate reality is that you only have a few options and none of them are good.

1)  RUN:  If you realize the man is a monster early enough, the safest option is to back away slowly toward the door.  As soon as you get through the door safely, run as far and as fast as you can and make sure you hide in a place where he cannot find you.  If however, you have already entered into a Custody War with this person, this may not be a legal option.  (Note:  Even though it wouldn’t have been legal, I still wish I had chosen this option in order to protect my son.  Hindsight is always 20/20)

2)  FIGHT:  Once you find yourself in court with one of these monsters, you don’t have the option to stop.  By that, I don’t mean that you should get emotional and fight with your words or your fists.  If you truly believe this man is dangerous (gun carrying, serial killer, drug user, mentally disordered, gang banging, or whatever else evil you can imagine) type, you can try and fight if you choose not to run.  Most attorneys will not be prepared for the kind of crazy you are going to tell them, so start by contacting a local domestic violence group.  They can give you free legal advice and refer you to an attorney who knows how to deal with psychopathy.  If you choose this option, buckle down and get ready for a terrible experience.  Family court is never fun and games and this is especially the case when you enter into court with a pathological criminal psychopath.

3)  PRAY:  If the first two are not viable options, sometimes all you can do is be the best parent you can be to your child and pray for them when they are with the disordered parent.  The unfortunate reality is that in most situations, family court will not choose to protect your child if that means limiting the parental rights of the disordered parent.  (Yes, this is crazy – but true)  So if you have already considered the first two options, or have tried them and failed, your best bet might be to just be a good mom.  Your child will need you to be emotionally healthy so that you can help them weather the storm of the disordered parent.  (Note:  At the point where I ran out of money and my attorneys would not file an emergency order, I tried this – it clearly didn’t work)

Psychopaths do not play by normal rules.  You will find yourself playing a crazy and disordered game of chess with someone who might very well end up blowing up the chess board.  There are many things I am proud of in my life -my son is one of them.  I am not, however, proud of how many nights I spent stressed out over things I could not control.  I would give anything to go back and rewind time so that I could try all over again to save my son.  I would fight for him every single day and for the rest of my life.  I don’t have that option now, but many of you do.

Hold Fast

I come from a long line of strong people.  My Scottish roots can be traced back hundreds of years.  I am from the Clan McLeod.  My son is a McLeod.  When my son passed away, my father told me a story about how long ago when our family was still living in the highlands of Scotland there was a horrible tragedy.  The rival clan had gathered around the McLeod church and burned all of them alive inside.  Entire families were killed -women, men, children.  The only people who survived were the ones who happened to not be there that Sunday.

If my family members who had survived had not moved on with their lives, I would not be here.  They lived through a terrible situation and made sure to thrive in spite of it all.  Our family motto is “Hold Fast”.  This could mean many things, but to me it means sticking to who you are, protecting your family, and fighting for Justice.

So my advise to other parents who are living the nightmare that I have been living the past several years (since I met the devil himself), is to hold fast.  It is your job to protect your child in any way you can - even if that means just being the strong and healthy rock they can come home to after surviving the chaos.  For those of you, like me, who have lost a child (my unnatural or natural causes), you are still their parent and you must still hold fast in the fight to protect their memory and their legacy.

 

 

 

 

 

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