Carmen María Montiel - Stolen Identity

That is something I hated to hear. That meant more money, a lot more? Is it really necessary? But a voice inside of me was telling me that not only was it necessary. It was imperative.

It was now September and even though I was supposed to go to trial in October, I had already been informed that was not going to happen.

Everything I did, whether good or bad, my husband always used against me. I did not realize how much it irritated me. But it did!

I am a practicing Catholic and that, too, was cause for his demeaning comments: “ Te la pasas dándote golpes de pecho, pero no haces nada ” (All you do is beat your chest with your fist). Now look at me. I am really a good man. I am a doctor. I save lives and take care of people every day.”

Whenever he accompanied me to Mass with the children, which he only did if we had one of those abusive fights, he walked out making fun of me, even during the service.

So, the normal happened: I limited my attendance and distanced myself from the church. I went to Mass only on some Sundays just to keep my children within the faith. However, he made fun of it in front of the children.

Alejandro was transformed toward the end of the marriage. I hardly recognized him. He was talking nonsense. He would engage in conversations for a full hour or more, saying things like: “I have killed many people in my previous lives.” Or, “In my next life, I will be an enlightened because I have gone up the whole ladder of progression. I have reached the maximum level.”

Alejandro lost respect for the family and for me. For a while, he was careful to make sure no one knew about his cheating, but I know he really did not care. Eventually, he openly made comments even in front of the children having to do with sex and women. He would talk publicly about the women he had sex with, embarrassing me in front of everybody.

He would say over and over that he had sex with an actress from Venezuela, but his real fascination was going through my magazines from my famous past in Venezuela. As he went through the pages, he would say, “I did this one and this one, ah! Also, this one…” right in front of me and everybody else.

He went as far as bringing women to our garage, hoping to be able to get them inside the house when I was out of town, but the children were there and cut him off before he succeeded.

Alexandra, my oldest, saw one of the women. Her father came back from having dinner one night while we were still married and walked around the house looking for a good time to sneak in the woman, as it turned out. But Alexandra, sensing something was wrong because he had said he was going to the pharmacy after dinner, decided to come downstairs to see what he was doing. She was surprised to see a woman with black hair inside her father’s car. As soon as Alejandro realized Alexandra saw her, he got in the car and left. Even my maid saw this woman.

Toward the end, whenever Alejandro looked at me, he had fury in his eyes, which were disoriented and different. I felt that it was the devil or evil looking at me, not the man I fell in love with. But I wanted this to work for my children’s sake. Maybe I could get my husband back and make him realize that this path of destruction was a mistake.

He played the victim, the person that did not do anything, and made me feel everything was an accident or my fault. He acted like he did not mean anything bad, and I, with my hopes up and trying to protect my family, believed him. Or did I believe him because I wanted to so badly.

I was a woman of faith even against my husband. As a person who believed in evolution, he said there was nothing after life and did not believe in creation, only evolution. Many times, we fought about it and I would end the discussion, saying: “Fine, you come from the monkey, but God made me. You will never convince me that I come from the monkey.” This was my way to avoid conflict, as he meant for these discussions to get heated.

When Alejandro wanted to sound respectful, he used God’s name. His hypocrisy had no limits.

Many times, when I went to Mass, I felt as if the sermon was directed at me. But never like the Sunday after the plane incident. My love for Alejandro was in a free fall as a result of his actions. But in that plane, when he did what he did, it was as if my heart was cut open and whatever love was left within me was surgically removed in a second.

That Sunday I got up and told the children to get ready. We were going to Mass. I did not include Alejandro, but he heard me and hurried up to get ready for Mass. When we got to the church, he laughed and joked, distracting everybody and showing a total lack of respect. I was annoyed but trying to pay attention to the sermon when I heard the priest say: “God sends you messages or warnings and you need to understand them in every situation, whether it is to change jobs, move to another city or end a marriage!”

That got my attention. The priest was talking about divorce, something the Catholic faith forbids. Why?

The priest continued: “You need to be attentive. He can send you a couple of messages. You could miss the first one and the second, but at some point, they will stop coming. It is just like the story of the castaway. You know he prayed for God’s help but died. When he arrived in heaven, he told God: ‘But I prayed for your help, why am I dead?’ God answered: ‘I sent you a tree branch and you did not take it. I sent you a log and you did not take it. And finally, I sent you a ship. I sent you help, but you did not take it.’”

At that moment, I understood! It dawned on me! Alejandro had hurt me and got me in trouble a couple of times. It was getting worse and worse. Why am I trying to fix my marriage? What if the plane incident was the worst? What am I waiting for? What if this is the last message God is sending me?

The sermon that day was directed at me and only me, I thought. I looked around as if people could see and understand the priest was talking about me. I looked at Alejandro to see if he was getting this as I was. In the meantime, Alejandro was trying to distract me from the sermon, asking me to explain the passages of the Bible that depicted every painting in the church. Only evil does that.

I grew ever more silent with my husband. I finally understood that I had to get out for good. I just needed to find a way. My husband became increasingly more abusive with the plane issue and what was going to happen in Colorado. He felt he had me in his hands.

Alejandro mistreated me more than ever, verbally, mentally and physically. I tried to stay away since I knew God’s message could have been the final one.

The last time he hit me, the police took him into custody by himself for the first time. It was as if God put the officers there. The two officers that came to the house were totally different from the ones before. They had never been to our home and they disliked Alejandro. They saw him for who he really is and understood what they were facing. The officers wanted to find more evidence to increase the charges. They looked in his medicine area. But Alejandro, knowing the police were coming, cleaned everything up. I later found a bag with all his prescription medication that he self-prescribed in his own name and that of his alter ego, Eduardo Martínez.

With Alejandro in jail, I was able to refile the divorce for the second time and get ready to take him to court to get him out of the house.

I felt that God was with my children and me. Finally, evil was going to be removed from my house.

Once Alejandro was out of the house, I was able to light candles and put up an altar at the entrance of the house with Saint Michael, Sacred Heart, Virgin Mary and more. I started to pray many times every day and to read the Bible with the help of my childhood friend Gustavo Hernández. I even prayed the rosary every day. I needed to rid my life, my house and my children from evil.