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The Jane & Jaycee Project

A weekly letter for woman starting over.

Featured Post

I want to understand why I went along

Hello, I’m going to try something different for the next few weeks, and I want to tell you plainly what it is. I’m going to look, honestly, at why I stayed. Why I went along with things I should have questioned. Why I agreed to ideas about money that look ridiculous to me now. This is not a light look back. I’m not doing it to make a good story. I’m doing it because I want to know. And I don’t know yet what I’ll find. Here is where I’m starting. Early in my relationship with Eddie, I left my...

Yesterday was three years since I left. I was already up, dressed, having my coffee, when I decided. Twenty minutes later I was out the door with everything I was taking. I planned it all in silence, because leaving had never been something I was allowed to try. What I didn't have was any idea where I was going. By then I had been disappearing for a long time. I had been made to cut off my own family. There was no one I could call. And even if I could have, I wasn't sure my friends or my...

I have two older brothers. Lately our family has been working through something hard, the kind of thing with real decisions attached and real costs. For a while, all of it was happening in pieces. One brother would text me. The other would text me. Someone would call me, and then someone else would call me. I was the middle of every conversation, and none of us were ever in the same one. Somewhere in all of that, things started to tighten. Nobody said anything cruel. But a text doesn't have a...

I work in the back office, where I answer questions, sort out problems, and dig until I find the answer. When something urgent comes up, I'm usually the one who stays calm. For as long as I've been at this job, people who overhear me talking with others have told me, "You're a great communicator." I say thank you, and then, more often than I'd like to admit, I hear another voice. For years, whenever something went wrong with a bill or an order or an account, I was the one who had to make the...

Ready. Always Ready.

Every morning starts the same way. She waits until I stir, or my alarm goes off, and then Jaycee climbs over and starts licking my face, wanting the day to start the second mine does. Then she hops down and waits, first by the bathroom door, then by the coffee maker, basically supervising the two things that have to happen before anything else can. I push the button. Sometimes it's already brewed. We go to the door. She doesn't need a leash, never has, she just goes out, does her business,...

I saw a friend this week who just bought a second vacation property. Not because they needed it. Because friends and family should have somewhere to stay. A day later, another friend told me why she hasn't bought the house she wants yet. Not because she can't. Because bigger money is coming, just not yet. She said it the way you'd mention a delayed flight. An inconvenience. Not a fear. I sat with both of those conversations and felt something I didn't love admitting. Envy. Disappointment. And...

This isn't my usual Sunday letter. But something happened this week that I didn't want to sit on until the weekend, so you're hearing from me a few days early. I thought this Thursday was finally going to be the day. After a very long legal process, I was scheduled to be back in court on September 3 for a contempt hearing connected to my divorce. The divorce was filed nearly three years ago, and the final decree was entered more than two and a half years ago. Since then, there have been...

He took out a warrant

Three in the morning. Pounding on the door. Then pounding on the window. Jaycee was losing her mind, barking like the house was on fire. I went to the door with Jaycee in my arms. Three deputy sheriffs were standing on my porch. They had a warrant. Harassment. Filed by him. I hadn't hit anyone. I hadn't threatened anyone. I hadn't done a single thing that would make sense to anyone standing outside that story looking in. But the warrant didn't need to make sense. It only needed his signature...

I sat across from a woman last week who has heard a story like mine before. Not from hundreds of people. From a couple. She was kind. She was sharp. She'd been through something similar herself. She asked good questions. I answered most of them fine. Then she asked one I didn't see coming. Why did you let the money move into his name. Why did you let the house go into his name only. You're smart. You're capable. Why would you let that happen. I didn't have a good answer. I sat there, a grown...

My lawyer emailed me last week to tell me she'd be responding to another filing. Thousands of dollars, again, to answer not just the lateness, but everything underneath it — every argument he's making, on the merits, in case the lateness doesn't end it first. I read the email twice before I understood what she was actually telling me. His lawyer missed the deadline. Not by a day. Not by an hour. By one minute. The filing came in just after midnight, when it needed to be in by midnight, and...