Children’s Bill of Rights:
As seen in Stepmom Magazine August 2012

a. the right not to be asked to choose sides between his/her parents;
b. the right not to be told the details of legal proceedings going on between his/her parents;
c. the right not to be told bad things about the other parent’s personality or character;
d. the right to privacy when talking to either parent on the telephone;
e. the right not to be cross-examined by one parent after spending time with the other parent;
f. the right not to be asked to be a messen- ger from one parent to the other;
g. the right not to be asked by one parent to tell the other parent untruths;
h. the right not to be used as a confidant regarding legal proceedings between the parents;
i. the right to express feelings, whatever those feelings may be;
j. the right to choose not to express certain feelings;
k. the right to be protected from parental warfare;
l. the right not to be made to feel guilty for loving both parents;
m. the right to be treated respectfully by each parent;
n. the right not to be demeaned by either parent by word or by deed;
o. the right to be safe from physical harm.


Added by The Next Wives Club Members:


P. The right to love and care for a Step Parent without judgement. :)
q. The right to freely move belongings, clothes and toys between houses without regard to which parent purchased them AND the right to spend time with the other parent, when I want, even if it messes up the schedule.


Are you courageous enough to implement your child's bill of rights? Don't wear your intentions on your back, be the change you want to see in this world! Be the bigger person! There is never a wrong way to do the right thing! Be inspiring~ Don't just talk the talk ~ Walk the Words! Parental Alienation is a Crime against Children~ There is no justification for your bad behavior, put your children's mental health and well being first, they deserve the happiness and security of TWO loving homes.  xoxo Mrs. G

"Men (women too) often become what they believe themselves to be. If I believe I cannot do something, it makes me incapable of doing it. But when I believe I can, then I acquire the ability to do it even if I didn't have it in the beginning."- Mahatma Gandhi

To heck with the Nay Sayers and Narcissistic, Negativity Junkies, they can say all the ugly things they want to about The Next Wives Club but we are living proof that it is never too late to live happily ever after. And that's what really has their panties in a bunch! ;) We will continue on our always progressive path of promoting harmony, growth and healing for blended families. If you aren't striving to make progress, you are standing still and if you are standing still, life will pass you by. 

My castle will never burn down because it is more than just four walls; it is the place where our hopes, our dreams and our love all reside~It is filled with trust, loyalty and contentment~those things will never burn.  My beauty will never fade because true and everlasting beauty shines from within.  My dreams will continue to manifest because I am a believer! If you believe...you will achieve! So eat YOUR heart out Nay Sayers, our lives are so fulfilled just knowing that our success is the best revenge! Queen of My Castle~Owner of My Feelings~A Work in Progress ~ xoxo Mrs. G ;)

It Was Never Between You and Them Anyway...

"People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered; forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives: Be kind anyway. What you spend years creating others could destroy overnight: Create anyway. If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway. The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway. Give the best you have, and it may never be enough: Give your best anyway. In the final analysis, it is between you and God: it was never between you and them anyway."- Mother Teresa.

It was never between you and them anyway ~I LOVE that!!! Holding on to hatred, anger and resentments keeps someone else in control of you. At www.thenextwivesclub.com we urge you to take your power back! When we enter into a blended family situation we can never be fully prepared for all that can accompany the package. Often times we are at odds with an ex or the next of the ex or even our former in-laws (outlaws in my case) ;) there are so many family dynamics that it can seem that you have entered into a war zone with each person fending for themselves; or worse yet, we allow our children to become casualties of that war in an effort to hurt one another. 

We need to stop the madness! 

We cannot control the hurtful actions of others, but we can control how we respond! If you can learn acceptance, peace will follow. Remember, holding on to hatred is the easy part, it takes a heck of a lot more strength and courage to let go and be the bigger person! It can be done! And if you're not quite ready to let go of the hate...remember two things: progress, not perfection & a successful blended family is the best revenge! It's never too late to live happily ever after! xoxo Mrs. G ;)

Mom Loses Custody For Alienating Children From Their Father! http://www.thestar.com/news/article/576619--mom-loses-custody-for-alienating-dad

Mom loses custody for alienating dad

Published On Sat Jan 24, 2009

 

By: Tracey Tyler ~  LEGAL AFFAIRS REPORTER

 

In a stunning and unusual family law decision, a Toronto judge has stripped a mother of custody of her three children after the woman spent more than a decade trying to alienate them from their father.
The mother's "consistent and overwhelming" campaign to brainwash the children into thinking their father was a bad person was nothing short of emotional abuse, Justice Faye McWatt of the Superior Court of Justice wrote in her decision.

The three girls, ages 9 to 14, were brought to a downtown courthouse last Friday and turned over to their father, a vascular surgeon identified only as A.L. Their mother, a chiropodist identified as K.D., was ordered to stay away from the building during the transfer and to have her daughters' clothing and possessions sent to their father's house.

McWatt stipulated that K.D. is to have no access to the children except in conjunction with counseling, including a special intensive therapy program for children affected by "parental alienation syndrome." The mother must bear the costs.

Harold Niman, the father's lawyer, said the decision serves as a wake-up call to parents who, "for bitterness, anger or whatever reason," decide to use their children to punish their former partners.

"Maybe if they realize the courts will actually step in and do something and there is a risk of not only losing custody, but having no contact with their children, they'll think twice about it," Niman said in an interview.

McWatt's judgment was released Jan. 16 and published on legal databases this week. By yesterday, it was a hot topic within the family law bar.

The judge said awarding A.L. sole custody was the children's only hope for having a relationship with their father, given their mother's long-running transgressions. These include ignoring court orders, shutting the door in A.L.'s face when he came to collect the children and refusing to answer the phone when he called to say goodnight. (He was granted telephone access to say good night on Monday, Wednesday and Friday). At times, she also arranged for police to show up when her daughters had overnight visits with their father.

Eventually, K.D. cut off contact altogether, refusing to allow A.L. to see or speak with his daughters. He was reduced to shouting goodnight to them through the door of their home, often not knowing whether they were there.

"It is remarkable that A.L. has not given in to the respondent's persistence in keeping his children from him over the last fourteen years and simply gone on with his life without the children as, no doubt many other parents in the same situation would have and, indeed, have done," McWatt said.

The mother squandered several chances to change her behavior and is unable to accept it is in her children's best interests to have a relationship with their father, the judge said.

Nicholas Bala, a Queen's University law professor who specializes in family law, said "badmouthing" or negative attitudes by one parent toward another is quite common among separated couples. But in recent years, the justice system has begun to understand the harmful effects of the worst form of this behavior.

In most cases, the problem is resolved through counseling, where parents are encouraged to accept they'll both always be in their children's lives, said Bala. "I tell them, `... if you're the survivor, you'll be going to the others funeral, not because you love that person, but to support your children.'

"Having said that, there are some people – and I think some of them are suffering from personality disorders – who will not respond to therapy and will not respond to directions from judges."

Transferring custody is a last resort, because "it can be quite dramatic and traumatic" – yet sometimes better than the alternative, said Bala.

"We often talk about the best interests of the child, but often it's the least detrimental alternative, really." Bala said courts are unlikely to take such a drastic step without hearing expert testimony about what's happening in the family. A child may be avoiding a parent for legitimate reasons such as physical or emotional abuse.

McWatt heard testimony from Barbara Fidler, a Toronto mediator and clinical psychologist who predicted eight years ago the three girls were at risk of becoming alienated from their father.
The Office of the Children's Lawyer argued the family dynamics could not continue.
Fidler said research points to long-term damage in people alienated from a parent in childhood.
Children are more susceptible at about age 10 or 11, (My Step Daughter's age at the time of her alienation from her own father) after their brains have developed to the point where they can hold positive and negative information about a parent. If what one parent is saying about the other doesn't accord with their own perceptions, they can become confused. In some cases, the only way out of the emotional conflict is to take one parent's side. The child can even begin inventing his or her own reasons for hating the other parent, the court was told.

Early intervention is best, Niman said."Really, parental alienation is a process. If you can nip it in the bud, that's the best advice I can give to clients."Because the longer it goes on, the more difficult it can be to undo."

END~

At The Next Wives Club, we believe that alienation should lead to incarceration! Unless a child has been abused or is in danger, both parents need to realize that harboring resentments and bitterness and using your own children to harm a former partner or spouse's relationship demonstrates a disturbing and disgusting behavior pattern. Not to mention the debilitating long-term effects it can have on the children being used as pawns in this sick game.

We implore people in blended family situations to put the mental health and well being of their children FIRST! Our children are our future, they deserve to be surrounded by love, peace and the security that comes from two happy homes!

The Next Wives Club, It's Never Too Late To Live Happily Ever After...

To Love & Be Loved is Truly the Greatest Gift...

"True Love is one of the rarest jewels of life, treasure it with all your heart. When you find someone who loves you just as you are, is steadfast during moments of stress, willing to grow with you and allows you to feel however you choose to feel in any moment - there is nothing more you will ever find in a person. You've found True Love when you feel fear; fear of vulnerability, fear of abandonment and fear of letting go of your own stubborn egoistic patterns that keep the real you separate and safe from the other. Trust in love and go towards your fear, taking this leap of faith in every moment is the journey Love requires for its sweet reward."- Jackson Kiddard.

I'd like to dedicate today's quote to my Hunka Bunka, the love of my life, man of my dreams who laughs at me when things get really tough and I think about running. He has stood by me through the hardest, saddest, scariest of times and just seems to love me even more when the dust settles. Although he was scorned and heartbroken by his first wife, he loved me enough to take the leap of faith and make me his next wife, the Queen of his Castle, Owner of his Heart....and accepts me as the hot mess that I am because he knows I am a work in progress. ;) I'd also like to dedicate this to all of you out there (and you know who you are) who want true love more than anything but keep people at arm's length in an effort to keep from getting hurt. I promise you, if you trust in love and work through your fears, you too will enjoy love's sweet reward.

I wish you all peace, happiness, joy and above all else, the ability to love and be loved...All the way. It's Never Too Late To Live Happily Ever After! xoxo Mrs. G

What Other People Think of You is None of Your Business. Enjoy Peace in Your Blended Family

"When you get older, you realize it's a lot less about your place in the world but your place in you. It's not how everyone views you, but how you view yourself."- Natalie Portman.

What other people think of you is none of your business! How do you think of yourself? Are you happy with the decisions you are making in regards to your family and creating a happy, harmonious blend for your family? Do you go out of your way to hurt people who you feel are standing in the way of you getting what you think you are entitled to? Are your views of the world you have created for yourself skewed by bitterness or resentment? Are your wings cracked and broken, leaving you sorely lacking the ability to make progress instead of soaring into a happy, peaceful existence? What positive steps can you take to achieving the peace you so desire? It all starts with YOU! When you accept responsibility and stop pointing the finger or playing the blame game...you will free your heart, mind and soul and be able to achieve the growth needed to make progress! Progress, not perfection! Embrace being a work in progress, don't settle for being the queen of mediocrity, always looking for fault and blame, be the queen of your castle, own your feelings!

The Next Wives Club, Empowering and Encouraging blended families! Change starts with you! Be courageous enough to be the bigger person, put family first, your true happiness awaits! xoxo Mrs. G

Manifest The Best For Your Blended Family

"Any circumstance you find yourself in is only temporary and can change in an instant. Your attitude and state of mind is the steering wheel of your life, what you think about and project into a situation intensifies and eventually manifests in real life. Meet every circumstance with a positive outlook and when setbacks come - hold the course! The dawn WILL break!"- Jackson Kiddard.

And if all else fails, there is always vodka! ;)

ATTENTION STEP PARENTS: This too shall pass! ;) Everyday I am flooded with emails from people all over the world who share so many of the same concerns, one of the most common questions is: How in the hell is my marriage ever going to survive trying to BLEND my family????

My answer is always the same: I don't friggin' know...why do you think I started this movement? So you could tell me! ;) Jokes baby...jokes.

With 50% of all marriages and a whopping 67% of all second marriages ending in divorce, we enter into family blending armed with the knowledge that in all likelihood, our relationship is doomed to fail! Well, I don't know about you but I'm not giving in that easily. I found my Superman, the man of my dreams, love of my life; and the fact that our 5, yes, FIVE kids all had their own pre-teen and teen aged angst and dramas unfolding and had agendas of their own; was NOT going to derail my new husband and I from living a life of love and peace. Besides, we certainly didn't want to drag our children through ANOTHER failed marriage! 

We needed a strong support group for blended families, so we created one!

Accepting that there are certain things we just can't change (a narcissistic ex wife for instance, who turns the children against you and tells horrible lies about you and their own flesh and blood father in an effort to wreck any chance you may have had at a loving household....hypothetically speaking, of course....), inexcusable, disgusting behavior like that....We can't control it! We can't control what other people do. We can only control our own thoughts and actions. If what you think about and project into a situation intensifies and eventually manifests in real life~ WHY ALLOW POISON TO MANIFEST!??! 

Take your power back, put all of you energy into building that strong, unbreakable bond with your partner and know that one day....the children will grow up and move out and have lives of their own. But, if you dump your partner because you couldn't get through the utter BS that was drummed up by outsiders who hate themselves so much they can't stand to see you happy...you will grow very old...all alone....and die. The end. OR, you control what you can, do the best you can, be the bigger, better person, teach your children well, hold tight to your true love through the tunnel of chaos and manifest this: It's Never Too Late To Live Happily Ever After!  You are The Queen of Your Castle, Owner of Your Feelings, A Work in Progress! xoxo Mrs. G ;)

Just Being A Survivor Is Not Enough...

"The real challenge is not to survive. Hell, anyone can do that. It's to survive as yourself, undiminished."- Elia Kazan.

I LOVE THIS QUOTE! Yes, each and every one of us has survived something, some heartache, or humiliation, some loss, be it a divorce or custody battle; the death of of a partner or spouse. Merely surviving is not enough. When you were taken to a place far beyond your threshold of pain and suffering, were you able to emerge undiminished? That is the true key to survival. Not just being able to survive the hardest of times, but to learn from them and grow from them and make peace with them~ That is the challenge.

Bad, ugly, horrible things happen to good people all of the time. It is our take away that will determine what we are made of and what we can give back as a result. I am not just a survivor. I am a work in progress, always striving to be better, stronger, happier. Always hoping to encourage and empower others to do the same. When you are at your lowest low, remember, someone has been there before you~and did more than just lived to tell~ they lived to share, to teach and to help heal. They survived....undiminished. So too can you!
xoxoxoxo Mrs. G

Fairy Tales Can Come True....

The Next Wives Club
Our Story

Once upon a time in a kingdom not far from here, a Lovely Maiden/Divorce’/Single -mother found her Prince Charming~ Part Deux. 

Although both had children from previous marriages, they seemed to be a match made in heaven & felt certain that their love could overcome all obstacles.

Before too long, an Evil Troll, sensing the utter bliss of the handsome Prince and his next wife, cast a spell upon her stepchildren, alienating them from their father and his bride. Heartbroken, the Lovely Maiden realized she was allowing outside influences derail her mission to live a happy, peaceful life. After being pushed to her limit, she decided to take her power back; so she created, The Next Wives Club, a charity-linked movement that exists to open the lines of communication between people with a common bond: Wanting to learn to live in love, peace & harmony in blended family situations. 

Being a big believer in karma, and knowing that what she was creating was a movement, not a silly tee shirt company, she decided that a portion of all proceeds earned on her website: www.TheNextWivesClub.com would be donated to Colette's Children's Home, helping heal homelessness for women & their children.

Feeling empowered, and having gathered strength in numbers as her movement began to grow exponentially http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Next-Wives-Club-Inc/128231813940588, the Lovely Maiden decided from that day forward she would never to allow anyone to take up space in her mind Rent Free. After all, she was The Queen of her Castle~ Owner of her Feelings ~ A Work in Progress.

If you or someone you know has been harmed by the indecencies that can accompany family blending, The Next Wives Club is for you! You don't have to be a next wife to join our movement, you just have to support the cause: promoting harmony, growth & healing for step families! Be the bigger person, put family first and never use your children to harm a former partner or spouse as that will only harm your child's spirit! 

The Lovely Maiden and her handsome Prince made a commitment that together, as a loving team, they could overcome any and all obstacles that crossed their path. They were a match made in heaven and shared a bond that couldn't be broken by the likes of the Evil Troll. 


The....Beginning ;)

The Next Wives Club, It's Never Too Late To Live Happily Ever After!

The Next Wives Club!~ Promoting Harmony, Growth & Healing for Blended Families. The triple ripple...

"Each time a person stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance." Robert F. Kennedy. The Next Wives Club, helping you to strike out against the injustices that can be associated with family blending (or non-blending). This movement exists to help step families in crisis know that they are not alone and that no matter how hard things can be, how frustrating or maddening circumstances seem ~ someone has been there before you ~ and lived to tell. Be the bigger person, put family first and don't use your children to harm a former spouse or partner, it will only harm your child’s spirit! 

Embrace being a work in progress: ever evolving, ever changing, ever growing, ever empowering, ever encouraging....happily....ever after. There truly is strength in numbers, together, we can overcome all obstacles. It's never too late to live happily ever after! I pinky swear! ;) I'm living proof! The Next Wives Club, banding together to send out a tiny ripple of hope....

Queen of My Castle ~ Owner of My Feelings ~ A Work in Progress

"Unless I accept life on life's terms, I can not be happy. I need to concentrate less on what needs to be changed in the world and more on what needs to be changed in me and my attitudes." Holding on to past hurts, anger and resentments holds us hostage to a time and place that ultimately causes us pain. We can't force people to love us or respect us or be kind to us...just because it's what we want in the moment. Making them "pay", by treating them with hostility only serves to harm our own spirits. Using our children to hurt a former partner or spouse only harms the spirit of our children. It all seems so unneccessary. Wouldn't it be so much nicer to recall the wonderful memories; the times we were happy with the people we are at odds with? I implore you to keep those loving memories locked up in a special place inside of your heart and visit them when you are hurting the most. 

There are lessons that can be learned through pain, sorrow, loss and heartache. I have come to learn something so valuable....that sometimes letting go is the best way to hold on.

If you are content to just be "perfectly you" without making the commitment to yourself to strive for progress; then you are a prisoner of your own inability to grow as a human being. You will only ever be the Queen of Mediocrity, standing alone in your not-so-lucky, narcissistic little world, wishing you could soar but sorely lacking the courage to admit when you are wrong and embrace peace and forgiveness. Never settle for mediocre; be the Queen of your Castle~ your home, not an imaginary place but a loving place where your heart and your family and your dreams all come alive. Own your feelings. The Next Wives Club is a movement that encourages you to embrace being a work in progress; ever evolving, ever changing, ever growing, ever empowering....happily....ever after. 

I wish you peace and the ability to recall the goodness....do whatever you can to keep your precious memories sacred; they are a gift to remind you of a time when things were sweet. You don't have to hold on to ugly memories that will keep you stagnant; the choice, the freedom is yours....you just have to be willing to do the work. xoxox Mrs. G

My Marriage Isn't Perfect...It is The Perfect Work In Progress!

"Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life. I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they're doing it." - Anne Lamott. Truer words have never been written! Perfect can be used to describe a marriage proposal or a wedding day, but not a marriage...especially not a "next marriage." That takes hard work, commitment, loyalty, communication, dedication, matching values, set boundaries and the ability to forgive the sins and hurts of past relationships/marriages so as not to drag that junk into the new relationship. My marriage is not perfect~it’s the perfect work in progress. We are committed to working together, as a team to overcome all the hardships and difficulties next marriages are faced with and to set a higher standard than we did in our past relationships. We are committed to each other and to our love and to making it work because we know that no matter how chaotic family blending and next marriages may be….With a true, loving PARTNER, it’s never too late to live happily ever after! xoxo Mrs. G Baby!

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” Mahatma Gandhi

     Immediately following my divorce from my first husband, I moved away from Las Vegas. Not so much because I was running away, but because I was losing my mind and needed a diversion so that I wouldn't go completely insane and commit suicide. That's the honest to God truth of the matter and I say it shamelessly. I don't share my stories asking for forgiveness or looking for retribution, my mission in life is only to share my experience, strength and hope with people who who may be living in pain. I don't claim to be an expert on any one thing...rather to be a student of life who attended the school of hard knocks located on the wrong side of the tracks and I'm taking continuing ed in survival. I just so happen to have an understanding that by sharing my journey, I am caring enough to help others. Now that we've got that all squared away...

      When I entered the Piero Dusa Acting Conservatory of Santa Monica, I was a nervous wreck. Having suffered a mental breakdown (in the not so distant past) one night after half a bottle of tequila and approximately 54 Xanax, the state of Nevada manditorily hospitalized me for postpartum depression with a dash of suicidal tendencies. They were so clever. I was kept  under surveillance for a period of 82 hours. You'd think that after living that nightmare, trying to get into acting school would be a cinch. After all, I managed to act my way out of the looney bin and even managed to do it with a script for more Xanax...I was good. Now all I had to do was act my way in, easy peasy, right? Little did I know, the exercise my acting coach recommended would serve to exorcize my entire being.

     He was a scary man with slicked back hair and a  cheap, pinstriped suit who smoked a fat stogie and had a thick Sicilian accent. When I burst into his theater I was late and disheveled.

     "Hi! I'm Sonja, so sorry I'm tardy to the party..." I started immediately.

     He looked more than just a little surprised to see me and asked how I had gotten there. So, being the hot mess that I am on any given day, I explained, "Oh...I took the 15 South to the 10 I believe, traffic was a bitch so I got off on..."

     "No. No! NO!" He hollered with his thick foreign accent. "I mean-a how did you get here-a? In my theater? I have a one year-a waiting-a list-a!" Smoke billowed out of his mouth and both of his hands were working the air like an orchestrator instead of The Dusa...Acting Coach Extraordinaire.

     "Oh!" I exclaimed clear on his real question. "Yeah...I know, right? Well...your girl mentioned that on the phone but with your new classes starting, I had this feeling...you know...deep down in my gizzards that before you made any decisions, we should at least meet. I mean...like most big breasted, toasty beige starstruck knuckleheads from VEGAS....I wanna be an actress and when I researched schools, yours was the one I wanted to come to....So I figured..." I trailed off hoping he'd fill in the blanks.

     "You figure? You just-a figure, right-a? You git in yo little-a car anna you drive-a to Da City of Angels anna you just-a figure you gonna be a big-a star-a? Is that-a right?" 

     "No." I answered honestly, spent and just a little desperate. "I just wanted a shot. If you hate me, no harm no foul...but if you give me a shot and you like what you see...you have the opportunity to make room in your upcoming classes and...heck...who knows?" His pause lasted a lifetime. Then...he presented his challenge. A challenge that truly changed my way of thinking...and quite possibly ~ saved my life.

     "Ok-a...fine-a...here's -a what-a I wanna you to do-a.....you go to the coffee a shop-a~someplace...I don really care-a... and you write me a story. Not just-a any story...but I wanna you to put a chair in-a da middle of a da stage-a anna I will wann you to put someone in da chair...I don care who...yo mutha..yo fadda..yo sista..yo love-a...I don care who...but-a...some a one. I will want you to talk to dis some a one-a and tell dem a story...I don care-a you love dem, you hate dem, you kill dem...I jusssss wanna see many emotions...Love-a, Anger, Passion, Disgust...I don care....just show me many  emotions...den...I will a decide if you are in-a or if you are out-a. Anna, keep dis in mine....I been doin' dis for a lone time...I will know if a you story is a real or a fake... you unerstan???"

     Like Michael Corleone in The Godfather...I accepted the challenge and knew instinctively that if I could pull it off..I'd be part of Da Family.

     I got back in my car and drove directly to Gladstones in Malibu. I had always been happy there. My ex-husband and I had had many a happy hour(s) there when visiting my out-laws. It was a good spot for me and I felt as though I could complete my mission there.

     I wrote and I wrote and I crumpled up many a sheet of paper before my final coffee (I didn't want to cloud my writing with cocktails...I must have been growing). When I was certain I'd written the story I wanted to share with the perfect imaginary person sitting in the chair, center stage. I called it a night.

     When I arrived back at the Piero Dusa Acting Conservatory on the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica, I sat in the back at a table reading my self-written script. I was trying to memorize every word and emotion. Once class had finally finished and students scurried about, Piero himself, stinky, fat stogie in hand, came out to greet me. He saw me sitting there in all of my splendor, trying in vein to memorize my own words. He spat at me, "STOP! What are you doin??? You are a da one dat wrote da words...do you really think I will know if you don have it a memorized?"

     Good Point.
  
     I walked into the now empty, homemade theater and stood awkwardly in the center stage. I never felt so naked in my life. I watched silently as Piero took his usual spot in the corner, behind a wonky desk off stage. It was then that he asked me to take an empty chair and place it on a da stage-a.

     He told me to walk off stage and enter when ready. I did exactly as he'd asked, like a robot taking orders. 

     I dutifully placed the empty chair in center stage then walked away, behind the curtain waiting for my cue to enter. I was a professional already, I just didn't know it.

      Before my grand entrance', Piero asked me from his smokey perch, "Who do you have-a inna da chair?"

     "My first lover," I answered numbly.

     "Oh! I like it...very personal-a...okay...when-a you ready...enter, stage left..."

     I inhaled deeply and started onto the stage with a purpose.  I had no idea how empowering the excersice would prove or how the performance I was about to deliver would be more than just a try-out, but a silent forgiveness that would grant me passage to a place I had yet to discover.

     I approached the empty chair with purpose and strength...a false strength that I had no idea I was faking at the time. I stopped shy of the chair that held nothing but emptiness but to me, in my mind's eye, held my very first lover, the stealer of my youth.

     I had promised myself that I would not break character, no matter what. That I would deliver my monologue with all the poise and grace I could muster...then I'd let the chips fall where they may.

     "Thank you for meeting me..." I started, standing diligently before the chair. "I was afraid you wouldn't come. I'm really glad you did. I have a few things I need to discuss with you, a few missing pieces of my life, I am hoping you will be able to fill them in for me." I leaned down, proposing to look straight into the face of the missing person in the seat.

     "I was wondering if you remember the first time we were together...in that 'special' way...you know...not out for dinner our sitting around the house visiting and watching TV...but really 'together' in that 'special' way.... I started to pace the stage nervously. I needed answers but was suddenly afraid to ask the questions. It was as if I had been transported back to that moment in time...a moment that every girl remembers...her first time....

     "We were at the drive-in movies. What were we seeing? Do you remember?" I asked the empty seat that was, at that moment SO filled with my lover.  "Funny, I remember each and every detail of that night, but for the life of me...I can't seem to remember the damn movie." I giggled out loud. Too loudly.

     "Anyway, I remember that we were in the backseat of your maroon Monte Carlo and we were very squished. I had fallen asleep...or at least pretended to be asleep, but you didn't let that stop you, did you, bad, bad boy!" I pointed in his face and scolded.

    " The seat belt was cutting into my right shoulder blade and the weight of you was crushing. I was having such a hard time catching my breath...I was so afraid but you kept reassuring me...as you had in the past but this time, I felt sure we would go all the way and I was nervous and scared and coy and shy...but you were so reassuring and kind and gentle. You told me over and over how very much you loved me and how it was okay because it was between two people who loved one another and that was never a bad thing. You made me tell you how much I loved you and went on to promise that you'd love me forever...." And I believed you.

     When you unzipped my jeans, I shook with fear but you just shushed away my fears, all the while telling me how special I was and how you would love me forever...

     To this day, I remember being so afraid that I just closed my eyes tightly and went away in my mind....I went to a safe place where I was loved. I was a business woman and I came home to my beautiful house where my beautiful children ran to meet me and my handsome, successful husband took my briefcase out of my hand and let me into our kitchen which was filled with the scent of homemade bread and soup and all things warm and kind and loving. My husband held me and asked about my day and told me he loved me and that our children loved me and that I was safe....

     But in reality...I was in the back seat of your Monte Carlo, your boozy breath on my neck, your words of love and encouragement so empty compared to the man in my dream. The man in my dream was my loving husband and he spoke of our loving children and I was safe and happy....In the back seat of the car...I was with someone's husband and father...but it was my mother's husband and my very own father... "

   I paused for effect. But only for my own. It was the first time in my life that I had ever said those words out loud. "You were my father and you forced me to have sex with you. I was a little girl. I trusted you, I believed in you. I wanted you to be proud of me and acknowledge my accomplishments at school....and YOU STOLE MY CHILDHOOD IN THE BACKSEAT OF THE FAMILY CAR WITH MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS SAFELY WATCHING THE MOVIE FROM THE HOOD OF THE CAR YOU WERE RAPING ME IN!"

     I screamed it into the imaginary face of my father who was no longer imaginary to me. My eyes welled up with tears as I spat the words. I was angry and hurt and broken and lost and scared and all I wanted at that moment was to tell him that what he had done had ruined me as a woman! I needed him to know that I had turned to drinking and promiscuity and how I ran away from my first husband becuase I felt that I was used goods and had to leave him before he found out! That I had the self-esteem of a fly on a turd because the first man in my life....my role model...had robbed me of my innocence! But after I'd said what needed to be said, a sudden calm filled me. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at the chair and my father, the man who was supposed to teach me all there was to know about unsavory characters and build my self esteem and help mold me into a woman to be reckoned with; and I realized...he had done all of that and more. By betraying me and using me and breaking my heart, he had molded me into the woman I had become: The Unsinkable, Unbreakable, Remarkable, Caring, Sharing, Loving, Giving Woman That I am Today...The One And Only Sonja Maria Lemos Flaherty (later to become Graff).


     That realization struck me like a ton of bricks. And suddenly all the tears from all the years of hiding that ugly truth...melted away. I felt more free than I had ever in my life. I knelt down in front of the chair that now only held the memory of my sad, sick, pathetic father and I said, "I forgive you. I don't know what happened to you in your own childhood that caused you to think that type of behavior between a father and daughter would be okay...and I don't want to know. All I can do is pray for you. All I can do for myself is to forgive you. I brought you here today to ask you for one small favor...and I have never asked you for anything.....All I ask is that you take a good, long look at my back. I will be walking out of here and that is the very last thing of myself I am willing to give you. Take a good, long look and say goodbye..."

    Then I exited...stage right....

     Behind the curtain, I let out a sigh of relief that was over 30 years in the making. My entire body was shaking, but no longer with fear...with relief...I finally knew that forgiveness is an attribute of the strong and courageous.  I am those things. Forgiving. Strong. Courageous.

    Clap....Clap....clap, clap, clap.....I heard the applause of my future acting teacher but knew instinctively, I didn't need his approval.  I got into the Piero Dusa Acting Conservatory of Santa Monica, cut right past the one year waiting list...and it was a wonderful chapter of my life. Turns out, not only was I an actress...I was a bad actress... ;) But that does not define my experience. To date, I have not lost my mind or committed suicide...Guess that was a necessary part of my journey. I was growing and learning and facing my fears and ultimately....healing...and sometimes...that's as good as it gets. 

     I don't claim to be an expert on any one thing. I only promise to share from the heart and hope that in doing so, I stand as a constant reminder that bad things happen to good people but it does not have to define who we become. That which does not kill us...makes us want to live to kick the shit out of that which tries. I am a survivor. I wish you every happiness and above all else...the courage and strength to forgive.



    
    



































     











     

“Our greatest strength as a human race is our ability to acknowledge our differences, our greatest weakness is our failure to embrace them.” Judith Henderson. Written with love and dedicated to anyone who has ever suffered at the hands of a bully.

People often ask me, "When did you know your son was gay?"

I suppose in hindsight, I always knew. Not just because he asked for ruby red slippers after having watched The Wizard of Oz for the skillionth time, or because instead of actually playing soccer, he skipped across the field holding hands with the other boys and picking dandelions at age four, but because inherently, I just knew. And I didn't care one way or the other; he is my son and I adore him just the way he is. 

I was sitting in my cubicle at Greenspun Media Group when the phone rang. I was an Account Executive for VEGAS Magazine and also had a well read column in The Las Vegas Weekly entitled WINK. Although I was a divorced, single mother of two, I had managed to maintain a strong, reverential relationship with my ex- husband. He respected my successes as they were self earned. The world was my oyster and on any given day, I felt pretty darned invincible. I was self assured that even in divorce, my ex and I were managing to raise our children as confident, poised individuals. But, like anything we think we own, confidence can be stripped away from us in the blink of an eye.


"This is Sonja Flaherty," I answered.


There was a pause on the other end, then I heard the exhale which immediately turned into gasping then sobs.


"Who is this?" I asked, fear filling my body immediately. 


"Mom....Mom..." more sobbing.


"Son? Is that you??? What's wrong? What happened? Are you OK? Where are you?" I was filled with panic but trying to remain calm.


"I did what you said, I just tried to...I can't believe it...Mom..." he broke off.


"Son, I need you to take a deep breath and tell me what happened." I said as calmly as I could muster.


"In the locker room, he threw wet towels at my head...punched me in the face...he called me a homo and a faggot...." he kept speaking but I was having a difficult time concentrating. My blood boiling, my teeth grinding, my hands in tight fists on my desk. My first reaction was to race across town, pick my son up in my arms and hold him and rock him and kiss him and protect him from the cruel, cruel world.

My second: to hunt down the bullying bastard who had hurt my boy and rip his scrotum sack off with my bare hands, hold the bloody, gooey mess up to his face before shoving it down his throat. I'd kick him until his eyeballs popped out of their sockets...then I'd take a not-so-lady-like squat over his stupid face and urinate into his ocular cavities. 

No. But that was bad, vulgar, highly immoral and, against the law. So instead of over reacting, I chilled. 


I asked my son for all of the facts. What events had taken place that led to the locker room beat down?


"Remember when I told you that I had a secret crush? Remember when I asked you what I should do and you suggested I write a letter to my crush and tell them how I felt?"


"Yes," I said cautiously.


"Well, my crush was the captain of the baseball team." he shared shyly. 


Shoot.


I guess I should have asked more questions before counseling him to write a love letter. Not that sharing one's feelings is a bad thing, moreover because it is one hell of a way to "out" oneself.  Shoot. ~ the captain of the baseball team? Like mother like gay son, go big or go home...


"Anyway," he continued shakily, "when I walked into class, a girl was reading the letter out loud...." 


"What girl," I interrupted, making a mental note that her ocular cavities were no longer safe around me either. 

"I don't know, Mom...some girl...anyway, I tried to get the letter but they all laughed at me and passed it around the room, I was humiliated. When class ended, I had to go to P.E. I was in the locker room and this kid, Joe, he's best friends with my crush, started in on me. He called me a fag and threw wet paper towels at my head and was smacking at me. I tried to stand up for myself, I threw a punch...but I missed..." 


"Wait..." I said, "You threw a punch? AND YOU MISSED?" I was disappointed that he felt that he had been pushed to violence instead of using his words, something I don't condone; but a little proud that he had the gumption to stand up for himself, but then a little disappointed that there was a swing 'n a miss.


"Yeah...that's when he punched me in the face. Hard. Twice. But that's not the worst part," he said.


To my way of thinking, getting punched in the money maker is bad enough, what could 'the worst part' be?

As if he were reading my mind, my son answered, "Now Joe keeps calling my cell phone! He wants to finish the fight. He wants me to meet him in the parking lot next to Target! He said if I don't show, it will prove what a faggot I am and he will beat me up tomorrow in front of the whole school! What should I do? MOM! What should I do????"  


It is important to note here that my mother was unconventional at best, but there was always a method to her madness; so too was there a method to mine.


"You're going to meet him." I said.

"WHAT?" screeched my terrified son.

"The way I see it,  if you don't meet him, he will continue to terrorize you, bully you and probably beat you up everyday. If you offer to meet him, hopefully he will at least have respect for the fact that you refuse to just hide out and take any future ass whoopings he feels like doling out. Son, today is a hard day, but it is a day that will teach you what it means to stand up for yourself and for what you believe in. Now, give me his number and I will set the fight up." I felt confident that what I was saying made sense and because he trusted me completely, my son agreed to meet his aggressor and finish the fight. 


After I wrote down Joe's cell number, I asked my son to go home and put on some comfortable clothes, nothing too tight or binding. I also asked him to stretch, I'd hate for him to pull a hammy during battle.


I dialed Joe immediately. I had a gut feeling about something and planned on getting to root of this kid's hatred.

Riiiiiing. Riiiiiiiing. Riiiiiing. Oh, come on you little bullying bastard, answer the phone. Riiii...."Hello?"


"Hi," I said sounding cheery, "Is this Joe?" 


"Yeah, who's this?" he asked.

"Oh, forgive me, my name is Sonja. I believe you punched my son in the face today and called him a faggot?" 

Pause. 


"Hello? Joe, you still there?" I asked.


"Yeah. But do you wanna know what he did?" he asked defensively.


"I know what he did. He wrote a letter to your best friend, the captain of the baseball team, right?"


"Yeah, but it wasn't just a letter..." I cut him off.


"Oh, I know what kind of letter it was, Joe. It was a love letter, wasn't it? He told your bff how he felt about him and wanted to know if he felt the same, right Joe?" I spat his name more than spoke it.


No answer.


"Is that right, Joe?" I prodded.


"Yeah. You know about your son?" he asked quizzically. 


"I sure do, and you want to know what I think? I think my son is the bravest boy in the world. I think it takes a lot of balls to know who you are and what you feel and follow your heart. I also think your friend should feel flattered. My son is very handsome and smart, that friend of yours could do a lot worse for himself." 


"What the???" he said. 


"So, Joe, my son says you want to meet in the Target parking lot near school to finish the fight. Is that right?" 


"Yeah, but if he's too chicken..." he started.


"No,no," I assured him, "He's not too chicken at all. In fact, if I leave my office now I can pick my son up and be at the parking lot in 45  minutes. Does that work for you?" I asked.


"Really?" he asked, obviously caught off guard.


"Really," I said. "You see, Joe, my son refuses to back down to a bully like you. In fact, he thinks you are weak minded and afraid of him because you fear what you don't understand or what you have been taught is different or wrong or dirty, is that what you think of my son, Joe?" 


"Your son is gay!" he spat with obvious disgust, "my mom says all fags should be put on an island and the island set on fire." 


Ah ha! My gut feeling had been spot on.


"Oh," I said, "So, your mom taught you to hate homosexuals, is that it, Joe?" 


"Yeah, so what?" he said indignantly, protecting his narrow minded simp of a mother.


"Just trying to get all the facts. No problem whatsoever. I will see you in the parking lot in 45 minutes."


"Cool," he said.


"Oh, and Joe, there's just one more thing," I said, "I need you to bring your mom to the parking lot with you, OK?" 


"What? Why?"  he asked.


"Because I'm not angry with you Joe. You see, you are a just an innocent product of your environment. You have been raised by a woman who has taught you to hate and bully boys that seem weaker and different than you. She is raising an animal, not a compassionate human being ~ and for that, Joe....I'm going to beat the ever living snot out of your mom. I'm going to punch her in her stupid face so hard that she is going to wish she had never met your father and created such a low-life bully of a son. Oh, then I'm going to pee into her eye sockets," I just had to add it for shock value. "So, 45 minutes you say?" 


Silence.

I gave it a few moments to sink in. Then I said, "Joe? See you at Target?"

"Dude," he said, his cocky attitude seemingly missing, "I don't want you to beat my mom up or pee on her eyes!"


"Yeah?" I asked, "Do you think I wanted you to beat my son up or throw towels at his head or call him a dirty homo?? No. I didn't, Joe. But you did it anyway and you learned that behavior from someplace, I'm guessing from our conversation that you learned it from your mom....now I, like you, have to teach that silly, weak bitch a lesson."


"But..." he was shaken to the core, I could feel it.


"But what, Joe??? The golden rule is to treat people the way you want to be treated. You have thrown down the gauntlet. You obviously want a fight, I'm offering you that fight but I am also going to teach your mother  the same lesson you tried to teach my boy. Or..." I paused for effect.


"Or what?" he asked hopefully.


"Or you can apologize to my son for bullying him, to me for disrespecting my family and to your mom for nearly causing her to spit out her teeth after I take out my anger on her. Then you can make a promise to me that not only will you never lay a hand on my son again, but that you will protect him from anyone else who is stupid enough to bully him. Do we have a deal, Joe?"


Pause.


"Yes. I'm sorry, ma'am. I understand what you're saying and I am sorry I disrespected your family. Thank you for not beatin' my mom up. I promise no one will ever mess with your son again."


I accepted his apology and called my boy to tell him that Joe was just a misguided young man who recognized the error of his ways and that I didn't expect any more trouble from him. I felt his relief through the telephone wires. He exhaled loudly and thanked me profusely. 


The next day after school, my son called me to tell me that Joe had apologized and even went as far as to shake his hand and tell him that if anyone ever bothered him again, he would take care of it. 


"I don't know what you did mom..." said my little man, "but it worked!"

What I had done? I flipped the script. I bullied a bully. Two wrongs don't make a right! I had sunk to an all time low... and I had zero regrets.

What I did was protect my child in the best way I could think of in the moment. Was it right? Was it wrong? I don't believe in right or wrong. I believe there are choices we make and choices we don't make and that those choices come with consequences. I believe it is my duty to teach my children to love and be loved. I believe who they choose is entirely up to them. I believe our children are products of the environment that they are raised in. I believe that if you raise your child to hate and bully others, that you are the hater and the bully....and you'd better believe this: Hell hath no fury like that of the mother of a bullied child.