Read Online ‘What The Hell Was I Thinking?!!’ - Confessions of the World’s Most Controversial Sex Symbol by Jake Brown, Jasmin St. Claire - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jake Brown, Jasmin St. Claire
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family’s house, he pretty much ignored or insulted me the whole time in front of his family. He wouldn’t even hold my hand. So needless to say, that holiday was awful. My mom wasn’t much help, and I didn’t have my father, so I felt almost entirely alone. When New Year’s Day came, the hell was finally raised. Dick basically blew me off New Year’s Eve to go out to some strip club with his friends, ended up hooking up with some gutter-snatch named Barbara, who he ended up leaving me for the very next day. The biggest irony about that one was that for all the shit he gave me for dancing and liking clubs, he met Barbara at a STRIP CLUB! What frustrated me about the whole way the break-up went down was that I had no closure. All he basically said to me was ‘Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.’ So we didn’t talk for like a week after that, and finally told me to come over and pick up my things. So stupidly hoping there might be a final chance for things to work out, plus in an attempt to get my things back, I went all the way out to Jersey in a snowstorm, and he wasn’t even home.The fucker stood me up, and to top it all off, leaving I had a nasty spill down a steep, icy hill and almost broke my head open. I knew he was home too; he just wasn’t answering
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the door. He left me with nothing, I couldn’t even take our little kitten. He was grey with little white paws, for comfort. It was a fitting ending.
I went into his van on my way back, and found all these love notes from Barbara, so it was obvious they’d been seeing one another before New Year’s Eve. Looking back on it now, I count myself lucky, because if I had married him, I’d never have lived out the wild adventures I had in my later 20s, and my life would have been horrible. I would have ended up a battered, Jersey housewife. Two weeks after that, my mom and I started getting all these notices in the mail about tickets for his Child Molester van, and I told my mom that I had put the van in my name. So my mom called Dick and demanded he pay the tickets, which he refused to do, so we had his van towed in immediate retaliation since it was in my name — but the satisfaction was only fleeting. He called my mom after that and told her I was dancing, which I was able to refute thankfully — I guess I did have some natural ability as a litigator, because I had to pull off a Perry Mason-sized moment to convince her that he was lying. Dick left me raped financially and emotionally, with my spirit beaten down to a point that I could hardly recognize myself inside anymore. Everything that my mother had raised me to be in terms of toughness, he had beaten out of me — for the moment anyway. In addition to the emotionally shitty shape I was in, the aftermath of our break-up financially was even worse, because he had stopped paying the bills on credit cards he’d made me take out for him in my name, student loans, his van payments, the works. So I was dancing primarily at that time to pay off those debts, and I’m talking about thousands and thousands of dollars. Even still, I was still paying that debt off to this day. We’d been together for 5 years, and they were to date the most hellacious years of my life. I am still earning back my pride in the pages of this book.
That said, I’m not above admitting I’ve dreamt for years that Dick would die a slow and violent death, and that his soul would burn in some form of eternal hell and damnation, but it never came. Men, by and large, always seem to get away with beating women in this country because the problem is symptomatic. Over 75% of women in prison for murdering their spouses were the victim of domestic battery, and yet congress refuses to pass any sort of shield law regarding sentencing.The system is truly set up as an old-boy network, fearing that if women were given the benefit of a doubt that their violence was retaliatory and justified in
57
5 8 what the hell was i thinking?!!
the door. He left me with nothing, I couldn’t even take our little kitten. He was grey with little white paws, for comfort. It was a fitting ending.
I went into his van on my way back, and found all these love notes from Barbara, so it was obvious they’d been seeing one another before New Year’s Eve. Looking back on it now, I count myself lucky, because if I had married him, I’d never have lived out the wild adventures I had in my later 20s, and my life would have been horrible. I would have ended up a battered, Jersey housewife. Two weeks after that, my mom and I started getting all these notices in the mail about tickets for his Child Molester van, and I told my mom that I had put the van in my name. So my mom called Dick and demanded he pay the tickets, which he refused to do, so we had his van towed in immediate retaliation since it was in my name — but the satisfaction was only fleeting. He called my mom after that and told her I was dancing, which I was able to refute thankfully — I guess I did have some natural ability as a litigator, because I had to pull off a Perry Mason-sized moment to convince her that he was lying. Dick left me raped financially and emotionally, with my spirit beaten down to a point that I could hardly recognize myself inside anymore. Everything that my mother had raised me to be in terms of toughness, he had beaten out of me — for the moment anyway. In addition to the emotionally shitty shape I was in, the aftermath of our break-up financially was even worse, because he had stopped paying the bills on credit cards he’d made me take out for him in my name, student loans, his van payments, the works. So I was dancing primarily at that time to pay off those debts, and I’m talking about thousands and thousands of dollars. Even still, I was still paying that debt off to this day. We’d been together for 5 years, and they were to date the most hellacious years of my life. I am still earning back my pride in the pages of this book.
That said, I’m not above admitting I’ve dreamt for years that Dick would die a slow and violent death, and that his soul would burn in some form of eternal hell and damnation, but it never came. Men, by and large, always seem to get away with beating women in this country because the problem is symptomatic. Over 75% of women in prison for murdering their spouses were the victim of domestic battery, and yet congress refuses to pass any sort of shield law regarding sentencing.The system is truly set up as an old-boy network, fearing that if women were given the benefit of a doubt that their violence was retaliatory and justified in
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